She didn’t turn to look at Mungo, who was now behind her, only a foot away. Nor did she reply. Eliza focused on Mr. Greedy instead.
“Do we have any new people participating today?”
“We do,” Theo called. “Miss Downing is attending her first games.”
“Hello, Miss Downing. We’re grateful to you for helping return our Mungo to us!” Mr. Greedy called to her.
Several loud greetings and thanks followed this. Bemused, she nodded and managed to smile.
“If I can offer you one piece of advice.” The Scottish burr was closer now. “Do not tell anyone your secrets. The people in this street have an uncanny ability to ferret out information.”
She didn’t turn to acknowledge his words.
“We have Louis and Melinda Alvin here as well. They are spending a few days with their aunt and uncle!” Mr. Greedy added.
Everyone greeted them, and Eliza wondered what kind ofmadness she’d stepped into. Her second thought was for Sylvie and how much she’d enjoy this.
“I will now call the teams. Mungo, Miss Downing, Theo, Ivy, and Cambridge Sinclair.”
“He came with me,” Charles Thomas said as he arrived. He was a cousin of the family, married to the wonderful Violet, and was often found here at Crabbett Close, along with all the other members of this large, boisterous family. “Couldn’t shake the man once he heard what was happening.”
A tall dark-haired man with green eyes was with him. Eliza saw similarities to Captain Sinclair.
“Go with Ellen.” A large hand on her back nudged her to the right.
She did as Mungo asked because she had no other option.
Always take direction without argument from senior household staff.
Trestle tables had been set up around the street, outside a few of the houses in the close. People stood behind them, and on the tables were an array of items.
“You will eat and drink suspicious things, but nothing will make you ill—we hope,”Matilda Nightingale had told her while explaining about the games yesterday.
“Come along, Miss Downing,” Mrs. Fletcher said. Beautiful with pink cheeks and excitement in her eyes, the woman was stunning in a long, sable velvet jacket.
“Hello, Miss Downing, I have sugar plums!” Lottie shrieked as she ran by, eating the delicious treat.
“We shall have some of Nancy’s sugar plums after. Right now, we have a relay to win. Now let me explain the rules,” Mrs. Fletcher said as they stopped at a table. Behind it stood a woman wearing so many layers of clothing, it was hard to see her face.
“I’m Miss Alvin,” she said through her scarf.
She’d met some of the neighbors when she’d gone out for a walk, but wrapped up as they were, she didn’t recognize anyone.
“The men and Mavis go first,” Mrs. Fletchersaid, “as they can apparently hold their spirits better. I’m not sure about the validity of that statement, however,” she added. “My husband always ends up reeling by the end of the relay.”
“And what is it we are to do?” Eliza asked, feeling as if she was standing untethered in a field while strong winds buffeted her.
She’d thought life had settled into a routine at Crabbett Close, but it seemed she’d been wrong there. Odd things were still happening.
“You see the tables, even in this godforsaken gray gloom.” Mrs. Fletcher pointed farther along the road. “At each, the team members must drink, eat, or do a task, then move on to the next, gathering other members as they progress. The team who reaches the end first together, wins.
Keep to your own rooms whenever not actively teaching or supervising charges. A governess should not linger in family spaces, or with family.
Yet another rule from Mrs. Holton’s book she’d broken from day one of her employment.
“If you’ll look to the right, you’ll see the men and Mavis ready to start.”
She did as Mrs. Fletcher asked and saw men lined up. Her eyes went to Mungo, who looked large and intimidating. Beside him was Mavis, who looked the same. Then there were the other men, most of whom she’d met today.
