“Letitia,” Isadora warned.
“I’m just?—”
“Tea,” she said firmly. “Come inside.”
Letitia followed her inside, wearing the expression of a woman with a great deal to say and the patience to wait for the right moment to say it. Which, in Isadora’s experience, was never very long.
“Briggs looks less…” Cecily trailed off, handing her coat to the butler with one hand and steering Thomas away from the umbrella stand with the other.
“Less what?”
“He looked very stressed the last time I was here.”
“He is considerably less stressed now,” Isadora confirmed.
* * *
Tea arrived before anyone sat down, and Violet was brought down by Mrs. Plum, who delivered her into the center of the room.
The room reorganized itself around the baby immediately.
Eleanor was on the floor beside her within moments, introducing herself with great seriousness. Thomas had abandoned the biscuits, which indicated the strength of the competition, and was sitting cross-legged across from Violet. He had discovered that she found sneezing hilarious and was conducting experiments.
“Thomas.” Cecily did not look up from Violet. “One more sneeze, and we are going outside.”
His nurse hurried towards him with a napkin, and he retired to the window with a biscuit.
Letitia, who had been draped across the settee, looked between them both. “I want to say that I think Ashbourne is beautiful, and that I am deeply annoyed that Isadora gets to live here while I am still at Blackmoor, enduring the east wing in winter.”
“The east wing is perfectly comfortable,” Isadora stated.
“The east wing,” Letitia said, “has a window that rattles every time the wind comes from the north, which meansalwaysin August, and everyone has decided that the solution is additional curtains rather than actually fixing the window. I have woken up three times this week to what sounds like a very small, very angry ghost.”
“Have you mentioned it to William?”
“William says it builds character.”
Cecily pressed her lips together.
“It builds nothing,” Letitia scoffed. “It builds irritation and a strong desire to live somewhere with modern windows.” She looked around the drawing room with appreciation. “These windows, for example, look entirely competent.”
“James had them assessed in September,” Isadora said, and then stopped because she had said it with the casual familiarity of someone reporting a fact that she simply knew, and because Letitia was already looking at her.
“Did he?” Letitia asked.
“The whole south wing. It was a routine check.”
“I’m sure it was,” Letitia said pleasantly.
Cecily was looking at Violet with a smile.
Eleanor looked up from the floor. “Archibald needs a story,” she announced.
“He has one,” Isadora said, grateful for the interruption. “He belongs to a princess named Eleanor.”
Eleanor stared at her.
“A different Eleanor,” Isadora clarified. “But equally brilliant.”
