“As am I. But come into the parlor. Mrs. Hester is here for tea, and since you’ve walked here from Summerworth, you should join us. You as well, Sarah,” Mrs. Hull said.
When they walked into the parlor, Mrs. Hester looked like she was preparing to leave. “I—I should go,” she said to Mrs. Hull, “now that Lady Branstoke is here.”
“Not at all,” Cecilia said. “Please, you were here before me and enjoying a comfortable coze with Mrs. Hull. Far be it for me to disturb that.”
“But you are a lady and I?—”
“Pshaw. I wasn’t always, you know. For eight years, I was married to a merchant. I am no longer comfortable with society’s class rules. Let me introduce you to Sarah, my lady’s maid, companion, and friend. She has seen me through some wild experiences.”
“That I have,” Sarah agreed. “I could tell you some stories…” Her voice shifted to a shared secrets tone as she sat down next to Mrs. Hester.
“How was the vicar this morning?” Cecilia asked as she accepted a cup of tea from Mrs. Hull. She kept one ear tuned to hints of the conversation occurring between Sarah and Mrs. Hester.
“Very well, when I arrived here this morning and practically giddy after breakfast when he received a note requesting he come to Mortlake House for the day.”
In the background, Cecilia heard Sarah commiserating with Mrs. Hester over the loss of Miss Inglewood and now Mrs. Jones.
“Did he tell you how it came about that they are talking?” Cecilia asked Mrs. Hull.
“Something about rearranged seating cards at dinner?”
Cecilia laughed. “Yes. Before dinner, I snuck into the dining room and did some careful seating rearrangement. Lady Mortlake was quite put out with me when she discovered what I’d done.”
“I imagine so. She is an amiable woman, for a countess, but a bit starchy.”
Cecilia reached over and patted her hand. “Comes with the title.”
“I know. So tell me exactly what you did.”
“I put the vicar in the middle of the table with one of the girls on either side of him, and on either side of them, I placed Lord Aldrich and my husband. Then I coached Lord Aldrich and my husband to ask them questions about childhood memories of growing up at the vicarage. This forced them to recall happy times with the vicar as their father, and had the vicar entering into the conversation, recalling events. There was soon a great deal of laughter from that side of the table, I am happy to relate. Soon, everyone became involved in listening to the tales and laughing all around the table—quite against society dinner protocol, but something beneficial for the Vicar as well as his daughters.”
“Well done, my lady!” Mrs. Hester enthused as they heard from the sofa where Sarah and Mrs. Hester sat, “She found it?! Where? What did it say?”
“I have not read it. You will have to ask Lady Branstoke,” Sarah encouraged, just as she and Cecilia had arranged.
Cecilia winked at Mrs. Hull, hoping she would take the hint to be quiet for a moment as she sipped her tea.
“Lady Branstoke?” Mrs. Hester said, her voice high and uncertain. “Lady Branstoke, Sarah tells me you found Georgia’s diary?”
“The one she hid in the old gatekeeper’s cottage? Yes,” Cecilia said, hoping to draw her out to ask more questions. Next to her, Mrs. Hull looked like a bright little bird, her dark eyes jumping from her to Mrs. Hester and back.
“Where? I looked everywhere. I was afraid…” Her voice trailed off.
“What? That the magistrate would find it?” Cecilia asked.
“Yes— No! Worse…” Color suffused her cheeks. “That someone else would find it.”
“Why would either circumstance be a concern?” Cecilia asked in a calm, gentle, manner.
Mrs. Hester licked her lips. “The squire and his daughter did not get along,” she finally, carefully said. “She may have written things that would make him angry or make others gossip.”
“You mean like the fact that he beat her?” Cecilia asked, leaning forward.
Mrs. Hull inhaled sharply.
Mrs. Hester’s lips quivered. “You know,” she whispered. She looked down.
“Yes, and I surmise he beats his wife as well, which is why we so seldom see Lady Alfred Inglewood at church on Sundays.”
