“True.”
“Did you discover who was in Miss Inglewood’s thrall?”
“Thrall? Interesting, descriptive word and possibly accurate,” Cecilia mused with a smile.
“Summer delivered messages to Martha Broadbank, Augusta Sandiform, the Cathcart twins, Mr. Vernon, and…Viscount Kendell.”
“The Viscount!”
“Yes. I do wonder about that relationship. A match between them is not out of the realm of acceptability.”
“And might be something her parents would encourage, so why the secret notes delivered by another child?”
“Because it was not a connection either took seriously? It was a youthful game?”
“Possibly; however, one would think that with the example of his father, the Viscount might steer away from such potential entanglements. I’ll have to see if I can’t arrange a discreet word with the viscount.”
“I thought you might. This afternoon, if the delivery wagon returns on time from London, I should receive some fabric for Hugh’s clothes. Mrs. Sandiford said she would have her daughter deliver it. I will try to speak to her about Miss Inglewood and try to learn more about this group and their meetings.”
“I will go by the church today to see how McCurdy is getting on with his work. I’ll see if I can get a feeling on how the vicar is doing,” James said, setting his serviette down on the table. “I hope to be back in time for tea. I missed my time with Hugh yesterday. I don’t want to miss two days in a row.”
Cecilia grinned. “That would not be good, else he might forget you.”
“Minx,” James countered as he walked out of the room.
“Miss Sandiford! Over here!”Cecilia called out when she saw Miss Sandiford approach the servants’ entrance. She’d been enjoying her afternoon tea from the shady back terrace, hoping to see the young woman approach.
The package Augusta Sandiford carried looked unwieldy, more than Cecilia would have considered for five ells of fabric. The young woman looked burdened, her brown hair curling damply around the edges of her bonnet, a sheen on her forehead.
“Daniel,” Cecilia called out to the footman standing by the terrace door, “please take that package from Miss Sandiford and put it on the bench, then fetch her a glass of lemonade.”
Augusta Sandiford looked up, startled, when Daniel reached for the bundle she carried. “Oh, yes. Thank you!” she managed and slowly released her clasp as she stared at the tall, blond footman. She stood stock still, watching him. When he turned to go into the house to fetch the lemonade, she remembered herself and turned toward Cecilia, a blush staining her cheeks beyond what her exertions had given her.
Cecilia pressed her lips against a laugh. Daniel often had that effect on young ladies, and Miss Sandiford was at the right age to take note of his attributes. “Come sit here with me while we wait for Daniel to return,” she told the young woman. “That was quite a large bundle you carried here. I can’t believe my five ells are that bulky.”
“No, my lady,” Miss Sandiford said as she slid into the chair across from Cecilia. “In the shipment we received yesterday was a beautiful, blue-figured heavy cotton that Mama swore would match your eyes. She sent it on with your order to see if you might be interested—no obligation, of course,” she hurriedly added.
Cecilia laughed. “Your mother is an astute businesswoman. I am interested in seeing the material. I haven’t had a new outfit in over a year, and though I have lost the weight of carrying Hugh, none of my old clothes quite fit me anymore as I should like.”
“I’ll show you, then,” Miss Sandiford said eagerly. “I agreed with mother,” she continued as she rose to go to the bench. “The fabric will look wonderful on you.” She pulled on the string holding the wrapped parcel in brown paper. The paper crinkled as the string fell away. Miss Sandiford quickly pushed the paper aside to reveal a beautiful dark-blue fabric. “There are ten ells here. Mother also said you did not have to take it all if youdid not need that much.” She picked up the folded material and brought it to the terrace table.
Cecilia reached out to touch the fabric. It was a beautiful color, though perhaps a trifle darker than her eyes; it would highlight them nicely—something James would like. “I do like this material, though at the moment, I have no idea what I should like to make of it. Too many ideas to settle on one,” she said with a laugh as she felt the thickness and texture of the fabric. “I will take it all.”
“But you don’t even know the cost!” Miss Sandiford protested.
“No matter. A woman doesn’t often come across a fabric that is so suited to her as I feel this is to me. Your mother is a genius.”
The young woman nodded eagerly, then blushed as she saw Daniel come out of the house bearing a large mug of lemonade.
“Miss Sandiford,” he said courteously as he placed the mug before her.
Cecilia raised her brows. Daniel did not habitually address their guests; that he had called her by name was most singular. While Daniel was studiously polite, Cecilia saw he looked longer at Miss Sandiford than was his wont to do.Interesting, she thought as he walked back to his station by the terrace doors.
“Miss Sandiford, I shall have Daniel bring payment to the store by the end of the week.”
“Oh, there is no rush for payment, Lady Branstoke. Father made a ledger page in his account book for Summerworth Park.”
“I appreciate that; however, I prefer to see my debts are paid promptly. You see, my father lived on credit, and I found it embarrassing, especially as he so seldom paid on his accounts. –But I don’t wish to talk about bills and such. I should like to learn more about Miss Inglewood.”
