“I have indeed made you a promise, and follow-through is the heartbeat of integrity!” Elin clasped her hands, genuine in her regret. “But as the daughter of a lord, ought I not concern myself with higher matters? Soot clings so dreadfully and does not come off without that horrid-smelling soap, and the water is frigid this time of year…” She gestured at the table where the cards lay under the cloth. “I am practicing for future gatherings.”
“Elin.” I was unable to keep the poison from my tone. “You are lucky I have not asked you to scour the countryside for the dog droppings the tanyards would buy. Youwillgo round and collect the ashes from every hearth. Youwilltake them to town and bring them to the rag shop. Youwillcollect the earnings and bring them straight back to me.” I gathered the red cloth in my hands and twisted it, fightingthe desire to bloody Elin’s pristine knuckles the way Agatha had once bloodied mine. “I do not care how you manage it.”
Her eyes grew. “You would not ask Rosamund or Mathilde to do these things.”
“Because they have earned their keep in one hundred other ways.” My voice pinched and my jaw clenched with a seething anger. “You will do as I say, and you will do it promptly and without hesitation.”
I didn’t bother to wait for her reply. My anger stayed with me as I left the drawing room and went down the hall to Rosie’s room and then after to Mathilde’s, giving both the same message: “Ready yourself for a picnic in the morning,” I said. “Wear your best flattering day dress and do your hair.”
“Why?” asked Mathilde.
“A mother may command as she likes,” I rebutted.
“And a daughter may comment when her mother does something out of the ordinary,” Mathilde observed. “We have hardly any days left to finish our dresses for the ball thatyouhave deemed so important.”
I turned on my heel. “Thenyoushall work in the nights.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The following day was blustering and crisp. The sky had turned a clean, bright kind of blue, and the light felt long and sharp, as if intending to bestow upon each leaf and blade its very own shadow. My daughters and I were sandwiched into the bench of the chaise, along with a stack of quilts, a rolled carpet, two easels, paints, the half-finished canvases, and a basket of biscuits, tarts, fruit, and three loaves of bread.
“It is not entirely fair that Elin must repay you, when you used the apple money from apples we all picked.” Rosie had twisted herself into a small degree of concern for her stepsister and sat, eyeing Mathilde and I, with a look of mild reproach.
“She picked one apple for every five I got down. Every ten!” Mathilde, sitting on my other side, was distracted by retying the ribbons of her hat.
“Rosie.” I bent toward her, adding some slack to the reins in my hands. “We have been selling your embroidery bits for years to buy what we can. Both of you have worked and worked.” I shook my head. “It’s so much more than apples. I am done compensating for her indolence.”
Mathilde finished her bow and leaned forward to look at Rosie, across the bench. “Why do you suddenly care?”
Her question was ignored. “Why are we going out today of all days? We need to work on our dresses.”
“Today is more than a picnic.” I peered into the bushes at the side of the road, looking for the right spot to pull over.
“It’s because she complimented your hat, isn’t it,” Mathilde said, more to herself than her sister.
Rosie ignored her and bent forward to nudge the cloth off the top of the food basket. “How do you mean it’s more than a picnic? There is nothing but bread and fruit!”
“Any half-wit would know she isn’t talking about thefood, Rosamund.” Mathilde sighed. “She has a plan.”
“If I am a half-wit, then you are a crotcheteer—”
“Better a grouch than a popinjay.”
“If you two would pause your debate for one moment…” I held the reins aloft. “We are nearly there.”
We were close to the Enrights’. Another half a mile and we would see the fence for their enclosure. I clicked at Arno and directed him to pull over to the side of the road.
“Here?” the girls asked, in unison. There was not much around us but a field of high grasses, and a ditch that edged the thoroughfare.
“Here,” I confirmed.
My daughters unrolled the carpet and arranged our picnic while I unhitched Arno and led him to the shade of a small sapling.
“Make it look perfect,” I called, watching them orchestrate the food. “Put the biscuits into a pyramid on that silver platter. When you’ve finished, set the paintings upon the easels and spread some fresh paint on the pallet and mix it around. You must make itlooklike you are painting.”
Mathilde gave me a questioning glance, but did as I requested, holding the brushes away from herself so as not to dirty her dress.
When it was all arranged as I had directed, I had them sit. “Mathilde, go next to your sister. No, not there, the other side. Now, turn your body to face me.”
