“One is mazarine blue,” Lady Gigi said patiently. “The other is cornflower blue.”
He aimed his gaze heavenward. “Get dresses made in both colors. And whatever else you need.”
“This is why you are my favorite brother!”
When Lady Gigi went to a dressing room to have her measurements taken, Xenia hovered nearby, hoping to speak with Mrs. Sommers when the lady had a moment. As she waited, a frock caught her eye. It was cut from taffeta the shade of tender spring leaves. The dress had a modest square neckline and puff sleeves, the fitted bodice flowing into full skirts. A bit of lace at the sleeves and hem finished the creation.
It was probably the plainest dress in the shop, but Xenia loved it.
“See something you like?”
Ethan’s deep voice startled her. She snatched her hand away from the dress.
“I don’t need anything,” she said.
“That is not what I asked.”
The look in his eyes ruffled her, and her cheeks warmed. To be caught wanting what she couldn’t afford embarrassed her. She was poor, but she had her pride. Of course, he wouldn’t understand because he was a man who could buy whatever he wished.
She was saved from replying by Mrs. Sommers, who emerged through the back curtain.
Ethan took the lead. “Mrs. Sommers, if I might trouble you for a moment?”
“Certainly, my lord.” Mrs. Sommers’s manner was obliging to her well-paying client. “How may I be of assistance?”
“I am interested in some local history,” he said. “Mrs. Pettigrew suggested that I speak to your grandfather. Is Mr. Walford available?”
“He usually is, but he’s gone to stay with my sister in Manchester for a month. Is there anything I might help you with? Having lived in Chuddums all my life, I’m quite familiar with its history.”
“It has to do with my property,” he said. “Certain rumors about a ghost have made the retention of staff difficult. Thus, I would like to understand more about the local lore.”
Xenia admired his tact.
“I see. Well, rumors about Bloody Thom have been around longer than I have,” Mrs. Sommers said matter-of-factly. “They seem to have worsened in recent years, much like the fortunes of the village, I suppose. If you ask me, it’s a bunch of nonsense. There is no such thing as ghosts.”
“On that, we agree,” Ethan said.
“But there are plenty of superstitious folk in the village, and the reports of so-called sightings don’t help. Especially when those reports are, shall we say, embellished.”
“You have heard Daisy’s account?” Xenia guessed.
“Who hasn’t?” The dressmaker snorted. “If you ask me, you’re better off without her.”
Xenia sighed. “It does leave the staff shorthanded, however.”
“If you are looking to hire maids, Mrs. Wood, I have a gaggle of nieces in the next village looking for work. I’m certain they’d jump at the opportunity.”
“I’d be much obliged,” Xenia said gratefully. “And even more in your debt if you can think of anything to tell us about Bloody Thom beyond the rhyme and curse.”
“I don’t know if this will help.” Mrs. Sommers pursed her lips. “But once, when I was a girl, my older sister decided to play a trick on me by dressing up in a tattered sheet stained with berry juice. She woke me in the middle of the night, and I screamed so loud I woke the house. I was scared to sleep for days. Finally, my grandpapa took me aside and asked if I could keep a secret. He told me I needn’t be afraid of Bloody Thom. While others believed that Bloody Thom was a ghost story, he said that it was actually a love story.”
“A love story?” Xenia echoed. “How can that be?”
“According to Grandpapa, the witch of the story wasn’t a terrifying hag but a beautiful young woman. He said that she and Thomas Mulligan were in love.”
“I don’t understand. What about the curse?”
“I’m afraid that is all I can recall. It’s possible that my grandpapa made this up to soothe me, but you can ask him when he returns. Hopefully, he will remember.” Mrs. Sommers’s smile was poignant. “He is the last of his generation in Chuddums, and when he goes, so will much of our village’s history.”
