“LikeObliviatefrom Harry Potter?” Reese muttered to Jem.
“Miss Clarisse will mind what she says,” he assured the man.
“As you say, sir.” Walter nodded, but his expression made it clear he would be watching.
“We’re going ahead to visit the village, Lady Ellen,” Reese said. “Do you want to come with us?”
The girl shot Jem a quick glance before saying, “I would love to.”
They urged their horses forward, and in a few minutes, they entered a small village with its double row of neat little cottages with their charming thatched roofs. Reese wondered where they did their shopping. There hadn’t been an opportunity to visit any of the surrounding towns yet, so she had no idea how long it took people to travel there.
Curious women came out of the cottages, and a small group of children who had been playing outside gathered in the middle of the lane, almost like a welcoming committee. They practically danced with excitement at having visitors.
Like a masterful senior servant, comfortable in his position and in the work, Walter nodded at some of them and said, “Lady Ellen Hildebrand of Kellworth. The two accompanying her ladyship are guests of Aunt Nellie’s from America, Mr. Jamison Taylor and his cousin Miss Clarisse Hamilton.”
Everyone either bowed or curtsied, including the children, which Reese found adorable. She smiled and waved at them, making eye contact with as many as would meet hers.
“I want to meet them all.” She swung her right leg over the saddle and slid off. Some of the women gasped at the split riding habit. When Reese shook out her skirts so it looked like a dress, they stared, fascinated. Reese patted her palomino, whispered to her, and let Walter take the reins. Jem and Ellen had dismounted and joined her.
“Tell us your names,” Reese said to the children. When they all cried them out at once, she laughed.
“Why, they are charming,” Ellen whispered, like she was surprised.
“One at a time,” Jem said. “Start with you.” He pointed to the tallest boy, who looked about ten.
“Billy,” he said. “Can you tell us about America?”
“We live in a big city,” Reese said, “but we can answer your questions once everyone has given us their names.”
After they had finished, the children started calling out questions again. Jem pointed to a shady area with a small grouping of tree stumps set around a fire pit. It must be their social gathering place.
“Let’s sit over there,” he said.
Reese and Ellen started to follow them, but a light touch on Reese’s sleeve made her pause.
“Miss.” The middle-aged woman gave a timid curtsy, glancing nervously at her ladyship.
Sensing intimidation in the cottager about being close to the Earl’s sister, Reese waved for Ellen to go with Jem. When the girl did, Reese turned and extended her hand to the village woman.
“How do you do?” Reese said. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Mary Smith, miss.” She looked uncertain, so Reese clasped her hand in a firm grip and shook it. The woman curtsied again. “Might I ask about your unusual dress?”
“Sure, though I’m not the one who made it.” Reese held up her hands and turned both ways. “Aunt Nellie’s dressmaker did.”
“She does beautiful work.” Mary examined the dress. “I hear them Frog ladies sometimes wear habits like yours. ‘Tis very clever.”
Reese opened her mouth to ask what a “Frog” lady was, and then she remembered the English called the French that.
“Are you a seamstress?” Reese asked.
“Aye, I am.”
“Have you ever made dresses for Lady Ellen?”
“The Earl ain’t likely to have someone as lowly as me make his sister’s fine gowns,” Mary said matter-of-factly.
Reese could believe that. “Did you do the needlework on your dress?” She pointed to the intricate embroidery. “It’s beautiful.”
