“Yes. It was on the other side of the meadow in the tall grasses, the clasp broken.”
“The other side? Do you suppose she could have been looking for it and got too close to the edge?”
“And the ground gave way beneath her?” suggested Cecilia.
“Yes.”
Cecilia considered that possibility and nodded. “That might make more sense than someone pushing her, or her throwing herself off the cliff. Both my husband and Lady Aldrich did warn me that the edge was known to be crumbly. I’m sure the men who came to get her body will consider that factor as well.”
Mary Alice gathered herself together and busied herself about the room. She handed Cecilia a clean gown for Hugh.
“Thank you.” Cecilia slipped the gown over Hugh’s head and pulled the garment down. “Are you all right now to take Hugh for a while?” Doubt colored her voice.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Mary Alice, as crisply as she might. She began loosening the top of her gown so she could put Hugh to her breast.
“I’ll take Hugh for the night,” Cecilia told her as she watched her hungry son suckle. “However, I would appreciate your taking him all day tomorrow, I believe I shall be busy talking to people about Mrs. Jones and her death.”
“Yes, ma’am. I can do so… I can’t help thinking about her brooch.” She stroked the fine hair on Hugh’s head. “You know it represents her daughters?”
“Her daughters! I wasn’t aware she had daughters,” Cecilia said, sitting down on the daybed in the room.
Mary Alice nodded slowly. “Yes. Twins. Faith and Hope. They’re a mite older’n me. I didn’t know them well—none of us did, as the vicar and Mrs. Jones sent them to a lady school.”
“You mean like a finishing school?”
“I guess. I asked Miss Faith about it when they come back from their schoolin’. She said it was so they could marry up, but she said it with a laugh like that were a funny notion. They weren’t here long afore they left. Don’t know where they went or what jobs they mighta got.”
“They will need to be notified. When I speak with the vicar tomorrow, I’ll see what we can do to get them here in a timelyfashion. They may need a letter to their employers to verify the need.” Cecilia stood up. “Thank you for telling me about Mrs. Jones’ daughters.”
“Acorse, milady. And I be seein’ you tomorrow. Early like.”
Cecilia waitedin the morning room for James to return home, curled up on the couch with her rust-colored tabby cat, Randy, in her lap. The animal seemed to sense Cecilia’s disquiet and purred quietly, bunting her hand for her to pet him. Cecilia did as the cat requested and found her disquiet ease with the calming, petting motion, though she couldn’t stop thinking about Mrs. Jones and the vicar.–And the fact they had two daughters!
What would that poor man do without his wife to keep him smiling, for Cecilia knew she had.
After her discussion with Mary Alice, she knew there was much she didn’t know about the vicar’s wife. Two daughters! She’d never mentioned them—nor, interestingly, had anyone else. In a village as gossipy and full of tales as Mertonhaugh, how could that be? How were the vicar and his wife able to send them to a finishing school? That was not typically within the stipend of a vicar. Perhaps Mrs. Jones had had money, or another relative had and wished to see benefits bestowed upon the girls. Better in many ways than simply funding dowries.
The daughters were no longer in the area. Where did they go? Were they married now, or did they leave to discover work? She hoped not to London. That was a rough place for two young women from the country to find their way. Too many who went to the city found themselves caught up in the bawdy houses, gambling dens, or simply reduced to begging on the streets.
She paused and laughed humorously at herself for her racing mind. She did not have James’ ability to take all bits of information in stride; instead, she must dissect each bit of knowledge and play with it.
She sighed and rang for Coggins.
“Yes, milady?” he asked from the doorway.
“Could you please light the lamps and close the drapes? I hadn’t realized the lateness of the hour. Ask Cook to hold dinner, please, and in the meantime, as we await James, please bring me a sherry.—Actually, bring the tray with extra glasses…and brandy as well. Sir James may prefer that after his afternoon activities.”
Coggins nodded. “Of course, milady. As you say.”
Cecilia could tell by his solemn, heavy-eyed expression that the news about Mrs. Jones, and where Sir James was, had spread through the household.
Coggins had barelyhanded Cecilia her sherry when they heard a commotion in the front hall.
James was home.
“Quickly, Coggins, have him come in here before he goes upstairs to clean up,” Cecilia said.
Coggins did as she asked, and in another moment, James stood in the morning room doorway. Covered in white chalk dust, he resembled a ghostly shade more than a man.
