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“Miss Berry!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“Good afternoon, Miss Doyle.” The seamstress’s smile fell from her lips as she caught sight of Elizabeth’s face. “Forgive me for saying so, but it appears that you’ve experienced a nasty injury.”

Elizabeth clasped her hands together and forced herself to breathe. What was Miss Berry doing here? Nothing good could come of the villager knowing that she was at Langton Manor, and everything bad could come of it should she mention their meeting to Elizabeth’s father or Mr. Cummings.

“It looks far worse than it is,” Elizabeth said, even as her cheek pulsed with pain from her forced smile.

Miss Berry seemed unconvinced, but she turned to Lady Langton. “Where would you like me to start, my lady?”

The viscountess pointed to the gowns littering the bed. “These are all gowns that the Duchess of Kelbrook no longer wears. She wishes Miss Doyle to have them.”

Elizabeth’s gasp carried across the room, but Lady Langton ignored it. Miss Berry was too polite to show that she’d heard and did a remarkable job at hiding her astonishment at this bewildering announcement.

“Miss Doyle is slightly shorter and narrower than my daughter,” Lady Langton continued. “A few tucks and a new hem should do the trick.”

Elizabeth gazed at the bed helplessly. The gowns were stunning, but what would she do with them? Someone in her position had no need of such fine clothing. Unfortunately, neither could someone in her position refuse Lady Langton.

“If you’d be good enough to allow Josephine to help you into the first gown and then stand on the stool, Miss Doyle, I shall have it pinned in no time,” Miss Berry said.

The young maid stepped forward, looking as uncertain as Elizabeth felt.

“Of course,” Elizabeth said, and with a grateful smile, the maid moved closer and set to work.

Almost two hours later, Elizabeth was exhausted. She had been dressed and undressed, pinned and tucked until she wished for nothing more than a burlap sack to wear. Instead, Josephine helped her back into her old blue dress and Miss Berry folded the other gowns into a tidy pile on the bed.

“I shall have them sent to your shop directly, Miss Berry,” Lady Langton said. “How soon can you have them completed?”

“I can have half of them ready for you tomorrow afternoon, my lady. The rest on Monday, if that suits you.”

“Indeed, it does,” Lady Langton said. “I appreciate your willingness to see to them so quickly. We shall need them before week’s end.”

Elizabeth turned startled eyes on the viscountess. Week’s end? Did Lady Langton truly anticipate Elizabeth would be her companion to the garden party at Finley Park? That could be the noblewoman’s only possible motive for having her so finely attired. She ran her hands down the sides of her familiar, well-worn dress.

It was not so much that she wanted to be gone from Langton Manor but rather that she felt completely misplaced. She did not know how she had come to be in this position—or even what her position was exactly. It was all very confusing, and she did not know how to extricate herself from it. If only Reynard would return soon, perhaps she could see her way forward.

After gathering her measuring tape, pins, and needles, Miss Berry bobbed a curtsy to Lady Langton. “Good afternoon, my lady.” Then she turned to Elizabeth. “And to you, Miss Doyle.”

“Thank you, Miss Berry.” Elizabeth watched her walk out of the room, and with each step the seamstress took, her heart beat harder. Despite the discomfiture attendant in bringing up the subject, she could not let the older woman return to the village without saying something. Hurrying to the door, Elizabeth caught up to her on the landing. “Miss Berry?”

The seamstress turned.

“Could I ask that you not mention my presence at Langton Manor to my father or Mr. Cummings?” Elizabeth asked.

If Miss Berry was surprised by the request, she concealed it. “Of course, Miss Doyle. I rarely see either gentleman.”

Elizabeth released a tense breath. “Thank you. I’m most grateful.”

Miss Berry offered her a small smile. “’Tis nothing.”

Chapter 16

Over the next three days, Elizabeth’s life fell into a fairly predictable routine. Every morning, she and Lady Langton spent time feeding the birds in the rose garden. The weather stayed pleasant, with clear skies and a mild breeze, so they usually sat in the shade of the rose arbor for over an hour, enjoying the smell of the new blossoms and the sounds of the birds. Every day, Lady Langton learned to recognize a couple new bird songs, and by Monday, she was greeting her feathered friends individually, with no assistance from Elizabeth at all.

When the breadcrumbs were gone, Elizabeth would guide Lady Langton to the stables, where they would check on the swallow family, or if the viscountess was feeling up to it, they would walk a little farther toward the pond. There, Elizabeth would describe the various waterfowl and their activities to her.

The afternoon was usually spent in the drawing room, where Elizabeth read to Lady Langton. Sometimes, she shared portions of Mr. Edwards’s book, which gave interesting details about the birds they’d seen earlier in the day; on other days, she read poems or a chapter or two from books the viscountess requested. It was a marvelous time of discovery for Elizabeth, as a whole new world of literature opened up to her.

After the evening meal, Lady Langton always requested that she sing at least one song, and Monday night was no exception. After they retired to the drawing room, Elizabeth stood before the pianoforte and sang her solos unaccompanied before joining the viscountess by the fire.