Richard expelled a sigh. "Good. Tea in half an hour, madam. Shall I undo your buttons?"
Emily submitted. She told him of the maid and her own confusion, and he made small jokes that
cheered her sufficiently to wash and dress. He had engaged a footman to leave a trail of crumbs, he said
solemnly, so they could find their way to Lady Clanross's withdrawing room.
* * * *
Elizabeth awaited her guests behind a battery of tea things. Maggie came in full of laughter. She
had revisited the schoolroom and found their sisters and the three new inmates absorbed in a marathon of
spillikins at which young Tommy seemed especially adept.
"It's kind of you to see to the children, Maggie." Elizabeth was amused. Something was bringing
out Maggie's domesticity with a vengeance.
"Matt and Amy want to go riding in the morning and my sisters have promised to join them. I
may have Jem saddle Joybell, too. A sedate plod round among the ponies would suit me."
Elizabeth touched the brewing teapot. Still very hot. Fisher and a footman were waiting her call
for hot water. "Be sure to ask Jem Fosse to accompany you, at least until he can form a judgement of the
other children's skills."
"May I ask Johnny?"
"Certainly. And Jean."
Maggie nodded, resigned to be tactful. Elizabeth did not really object to Johnny and Maggie
taking a morning ride round the park together, but neither she nor Maggie wished to offend Jean's
sensibilities, which were still tender.
As if cued, Jean drifted in looking vague.
Elizabeth greeted her in tones she knew were over-hearty. "You may take charge of the bread and
butter."
Jean sighed. "Very well."
Elizabeth was about to favour her sister with a crisp lecture on the perils of self-induced
melancholy when Tom entered, followed almost at once by the Falks and Johnny. She saw everyone seated
and served, and set herself to make Mrs. Falk feel at home.
Emily Falk was prettier than Elizabeth had expected her to be, small-boned and only a little
plump. She had speedwell blue eyes and a humourous look about the mouth that promised tolerance.
"Maggie says your three eldest and my sisters have taken to each other."
"That's a comfort." Mrs. Falk smiled at Maggie, who blushed and offered her a plate of
cakes.
"What think you of Brecon?" Elizabeth ventured. This question was her private test of a guest's
mettle.
Emily Falk took a sip of tea. "I was thinking I'm happy not to have charge of the servants. You
must keep a regiment."
Elizabeth smiled. Not a witty answer but commend ably frank. "Thirty-seven, indoors."
Mrs. Falk shuddered.
"However, I'm fortunate in my housekeeper. Mrs. Smollett was trained by my stepmother, and
maman
was both exacting and experienced. I daresay Mrs. Smollett will desert me someday to
open an hotel in London."
"Like Grillon's?"
Elizabeth laughed. "In that rococo style, yes. I'll show you the Dower House one of these days. I
daresay you saw it as you passed the gate house."
Mrs. FaIk admitted to having dozed as they passed the lodge.
"Then I shall certainly show you the Dower House. My father left me the use of it, and it's much
more to my taste than Palladian palaces. Before Tom and I went to Italy, I thought we might live there and
close Brecon. However, that was not practicable. My sisters and their governess are happy there."
"I'd like to see their establishment. Tom tells me Miss Bluestone is a notable educationist."
Elizabeth leaned toward her. "And a delightful woman. I wish she might stay here forever..." She
had meant to produce a schoolroom of misses for Miss Bluestone.
"She's a first-rate botanist," Tom offered. The men had been talking politicks. "Keeps the
gardeners on their toes."
Maggie said boldly, "And she never fusses one about one's failures. Jean and I think she's splendid,
don't we, Jean?"
Jean deigned to agree.
"She's the only one of our governesses to make real use of the book room," Elizabeth added. "I
wonder why."
That led to a discussion of governesses who looked upon learning as an unnecessary encumbrance
to young ladies and thence to the general state of education--deplorable--and what could be done about
it--very little so long as the Church and the dissenters disagreed.
"Is the book room catalogue finished?" Colonel Falk asked in a lull.
"My word, I've not met the poet!" Mrs. Falk exclaimed. "I should like to. I thought he was living
here."
Her remark, which was grossly tactless or wholly innocent, had the effect of a brick crashing
through a window.
A silence fell.
Jean leapt to her feet and ran from the room.
Elizabeth jerked her head at Maggie who excused herself and followed her twin. "I beg your
pardon, ma'am. Jean is not usually so rag-mannered. The thing is she feels she had formed an attachment for
Owen Davies and now that he must leave the country..."
Mrs. Falk's wide blue stare persuaded Elizabeth that the colonel's wife had not been told of recent
developments. Richard Falk, it would seem, had strict notions of honour. She glanced at him and he rolled
his eyes heavenward. His ears were red. Elizabeth did not envy him. If she had been his wife she would have
dissected him before dinner.
"It's rather late for discretion, Colonel," she said dryly, "though I thank you for it. Ma'am, a
double apology. For Jean's manners and for leaving you in the dark. I ought to have writ you of our political
adventures but I couldn't trust the mails." And she launched into an account of the smuggled poem.
She made no attempt to conceal her sisters' infamous conduct, though a mild protest from
Colonel Falk caused her to soften her language. It was clear that Mrs. Falk was appalled by the danger the
girls stood in of being called as witnesses, perhaps even as accessories, but she did not seem disposed to
make harsh judgements.
If she had been, Jean and Maggie had able defenders. Johnny and Colonel Falk praised their spirit
and excused their naiveté until Elizabeth wanted to shake the two men. Tom said little. In the long
run, he would probably be the chief sufferer. When she considered that Owen's poem might undercut
Tom's political efforts, Elizabeth's blood was still inclined to boil. However, Maggie returned before she
could express herself forthrightly.
It was clear from Maggie's blushes that she knew her conduct had been under discussion.
Everyone rushed into speech with alternate topics of conversation and Maggie's blushes faded. Nevertheless
Elizabeth was glad when the tea was cold and the cakes a few scattered crumbs.
As she rose to leave, Elizabeth turned once more to her bemused guest. "I go up to the nursery
every day at this time. Do you care to join me?"
Mrs. Falk agreed. She was nursing the infant Sally herself, and had been afraid she would wander
for hours vainly seeking her child.
Elizabeth was a little surprised to hear that her guest did not employ a wet nurse, though she
knew quite respectable ladies sometimes preferred to nurse their own babies. That led to a discussion of the
nursing of infants, tooth-cutting, and the colick, which continued up the stairs and down the long corridor
to the wing that housed both the nursery and the schoolroom. By the time the babies had been bathed and
fed, Elizabeth felt almost at ease with Colonel Falk's wife. She even offered. to show her guest the new
telescope.
* * * *
"Time to dress for dinner."
"I can't, Maggie!" Jean lay facedown, so her wail was muffled.
Maggie sat on the bed. "I know it's hard, but you ought to. The sooner the better."
"But that dreadful woman..."
"Mrs. Falk is not dreadful," Maggie said firmly. "She's a pleasant lady and you embarrassed her
horribly. She knew nothing of Owen's exile."
Jean sat up. She looked crumpled but her eyes were only little red and not swollen at all. "Truly?
Then Colonel Falk--"
"He didn't tell his wife. I think he's on our side."
Jean cocked her head, considering.
Maggie wondered if she ought to explain that she hadn't meant Colonel Falk would connive at
private meetings between the lovers.
Jean slid from the bed. "I daresay I ought to get it over with. Lisette--"
"I'll help you dress. Like old times."
Jean gave a wavering smile. "All right."
As they were leaving to descend for dinner, Polly, the chambermaid Elizabeth had delegated to
wait on Mrs. Falk, burst into the room. "Oh, my lady..." She broke off when she saw Maggie.
Maggie raised her eyebrows as she had seen Elizabeth do any number of times. The maid
blushed.
Jean said casually, "I shan't need you, until after dinner, Polly. Thank you."
Polly stared, then bobbed a curtsey and vanished. Maggie said, "Lisette will be glad to wait on
you, Jeanie. It's her duty."
Jean bit her lip. "II you must know, Polly carries messages for us."
"For you and Owen?"
Jean nodded, defiant.
"I wish you wouldn't," Maggie said unhappily.
"It's my turn to sit by Amy!" Georgy had tied the bow of her bonnet unevenly. A great loop hung
on one side.
Fanny's lip trembled. She was a weepy child. "No, it's mine."
"She wants to sit by me," Caro sniffed. She was the eldest of what everyone thought of as the
Three Little Sisters. The Three Bears, Maggie reflected, listening to the girls bicker. Maggie's sisters had
taken to Amy Falk. After two weeks' constant companionship, the girls were inseparable.
"Amy and Matt will sit between Mr. Dyott and me," Maggie said. "You may sit with Jean, facing
us so you can talk to Amy."
Grumbling, the girls permitted themselves to be handed up into the first of the two carriages that
were bound for the church in Earl's Brecon. Amy gave Maggie a saucy grin. Her elder brother was
inspecting the horses.
"Can you deal with them?" Elizabeth smoothed her gloves.
Maggie nodded. "I think so. Johnny will sit on anyone who misbehaves." Giggles from the coach
told her the girls had heard. Elizabeth smiled.
Jean was handed up, then Maggie. When she had tidied her skirts, Maggie patted the place beside
her and Amy settled in. She was a bright-eyed child, much prettier than the Conway sisters, but she seemed
unconscious of the fact.
Johnny persuaded young Matthew to leave off admiring the near leader's gleaming coat and they,
too, climbed in. A footman closed the door. Gravel crunched as the heavy equipage began to move.
Clanross's carriage would pull up before the main entrance to load the rest of the party.
"Where's Tommy?" Amy piped.
"He decided to ride with your papa."
The little girl nodded, satisfied. She was protective of her small brother, but in other ways a
compleat minx, full of mischief. She made a comic face at Fanny. Fanny giggled, and that set the others
off.
Jean looked resigned.
Johnny was describing for the enthusiastic Matthew a pair of matched chestnuts Clanross had
lately acquired. Johnny was wholly at ease with children, a quality Maggie thought suitable in husbands.
Smiling to herself, she settled back for the ride.
As it had the previous two Sundays, the size of the Brecon party would cause a stir at church. The
little girls and Miss Bluestone usually walked to church from the Dower House, no very great distance, and
Elizabeth ordered the carriage for such of the party at the great house as were churchgoers. She and the
twins attended regularly. Clanross did not. His presence for the first time in months would cause a real stir.
A number of the neighbouring gentry were convinced he was an atheist. They didn't like his Levelling
tendencies, either.
The weather threatened rain, but it had been lowering for a week. Maggie hoped the expedition
to Hazeldell Clanross had planned for the afternoon might not be rained out. He wanted to show Mrs. Falk
the house and lands once more, before he had to go down to London to attend the queen's trial. Charles
Wharton meant to break the entail and move his family to London where he had the promise of a lucrative
surgical practice. Colonel Falk apparently wanted to purchase an estate. He and Mrs. Falk had already
inspected Hazeldell twice. Maggie thought they would prove good neighbours, though she would miss the
Whartons.
"I don't think I'll come to Hazeldell this time," Jean said over the hubbub. Sometimes their minds
ran on the same subject at the same time.
"Why not? There's Cecy's baby to admire, and we haven't seen Mary Wharton in an age. She's
back, you know."
Jean made a face. "I don't feel up to it."
Maggie sighed and decided not to try wheedling in a carriage full of giggling brats. Later.
Although Mrs. Davies glowered at Clanross throughout the opening hymn, and Jean and Owen
gazed at each other and sighed during the collect, the service went smoothly enough. Mr. Davies's catarrh
made itself heard in the homily.
Maggie was conscious of being watched. At first the sensation was satisfying. She knew she looked
handsome in her chip-straw bonnet and ivory muslin, and Johnny's presence beside her gave her confidence
these days. She no longer shrank from publick view. During the latter part of the service, however, as the
handful of communicants approached the altar, she sensed rather than saw that someone was staring at her
particularly, and that was discomforting. So discomforting the hair prickled on the back of her neck.
The concluding hymn came to a full-throated close and everyone began groping for prayer books,
reticules, hats, and gloves. As they started to file out, Clanross and Elizabeth first as became their rank,
Maggie turned to view the congregation.
She spotted the stranger immediately. He was a small man, soberly dressed like a clerk or a
shopkeeper, but he had overgrown side-whiskers and sported a flashy stickpin, and his face was a map of
London. He was staring directly at Maggie. His small, shrewd eyes did not blink.