Tomorrow. Thank heavens.She had time to work out how best to present herself.
She took off her pelisse, and Ruth pulled a face at the gray gown beneath. “I know we’re all dressing soberly, but complete gray?”
Kitty didn’t want to tell Ruth she’d been in half mourning forever. “It’s practical for traveling.”
“You, being practical?” Ruth teased. “But it’s true. Let’s see what else you have. Unlock your trunk.”
“Bossy boots.” Kitty said it with a smile, however, and found the key.
Ruth flung back the lid. “Violet,” she said, putting that aside. “And fawn with black trim. Ah-ha!” She pulled out the blue and cream stripe. “This will suit you.”
“Is it too bright? I hadn’t realized until the journey how many people are still wearing somber colors.”
“I know, and I hear it’s worse in London. Very bright colors are looked at askance everywhere. Andrew and I think it’s gone beyond reason, but what to do? The blue is quiet enough, and this russet brown, too.” But then she sniffed. “Camphor?”
“I hoped that would fade. They’ve been stored away.”
“Do you mean you’ve been wearing half mourning all this time?”
There’d never been hope of keeping secrets from Ruth. “It seemed easier. I’ll spread them around the room to air.”
“Better to hang them out—and most of the rest. The smell has spread.”
“Foolish of me.”
Ruth rolled her eyes, but Kitty hadn’t been as foolish as Ruth thought. She couldn’t have aired the colorful clothes before she packed them or Lady Cateril would have heard of it.
“There’s an hour or two of daylight left and a breeze.” Ruth lifted out an armful of clothing. “Come along.”
Kitty grabbed the rest of the clothing, called Sillikin, and followed downstairs, feeling both happier and more anxious. It was wonderful to be with Ruth again, but the only way to hold on to that was to present the perfect appearance to Viscount Dauntry—definitely without the pungent odor of camphor!
Chapter 4
They passed through a cheerfully busy kitchen, and Ruth introduced her to the two women and the lad there. But then Sillikin saw a cat and trotted over to a new friend. The cat hissed, and Sillikin escaped under the table, tangling in the cook’s feet. The woman yelled and waved a chopping knife.
Kitty dumped her burden on top of the one in Ruth’s arms and went to her knees, coaxing the dog to come out to her. The kitchen lad scrambled under the table and brought Sillikin out, caught in the act of eating a dropped piece of meat.
“Bad dog!” Kitty scolded as she stood up with Sillikin firmly in her arms, knowing she was hot-faced and hair was escaping her cap. It was as well no one here would be asked to give her a reference as a suitable viscountess.
She apologized and hurried to catch up with Ruth. “You’re going to spoil everything!” she scolded. The spaniel showed no sign of contrition.
“Round here!” Ruth called.
Kitty walked round the house and through a gate in a hedge to find a grassy area crossed by laundry lines. The area was edged on one side by a waist-high lavender hedge, over which sheets could be spread in the best weather to gather the fragrance as they dried.
“She’s usually better behaved,” Kitty said as she closedthe gate behind her. “But she’s been cooped up in the coach for most of the past two days.” And in Cateril Manor for so much longer. Perhaps Sillikin was feeling the same giddy relief as she was.
Ruth had draped the clothing over one line and was pegging the first garment in place on another. “You can let her run about in here. The hedge is dense and the gates are closed.”
There was a second gate into the lane that ran beside the parsonage. As Ruth said, it was closed, so Kitty let Sillikin free. Once she was sure the dog was content with snuffling around the area, she helped with the pegging.
The sun was low in the sky and a breeze flapped the clothing on the line, but after her misadventure in the kitchen, the crisp air was welcome. The embarrassing moment hadn’t been her fault, but she must avoid any more, especially where Lord Dauntry might hear about them. She paused to tuck hair back under her cap and then pegged her blue linsey-woolsey gown securely to the line. This was a good time to learn more.
“You wrote that Lord Dauntry is fashionable. My brighter gowns are years old.”
“He’s not expecting a peacock of fashion.”
“What is he expecting? What did you tell him?”
