Joy for Mourning. Dorothy Clark
Her grin turned into laughter. “I’d better give him a double serving.” She turned to the stove. Thad’s mouth watered as she picked up the long fork and poked around in the iron pot again. He pivoted on his heel and headed for the little room. He’d been so busy, he hadn’t eaten for twenty-four hours and he’d be horsewhipped if he wouldn’t scrub Sam himself for a plate of Betsy’s pot roast!
Chapter Three
“Why, Trudy, it’s lovely.”
Elizabeth’s maid smiled. “I’m pleased you like it, mum. Will there be anything else?”
“No. That’s all for now.”
“Very good, mum.” Trudy put the hairbrush down on the dressing table, bobbed an awkward curtsy and left the bedroom.
Laina turned her head from side to side, studying her new hairdo in the mirror. It looked wonderful. Whoever would have thought that clumsy young woman possessed such a talent? Annette could take instruction from Trudy. Laina laughed at the thought of her French maid’s reaction to that scenario and lifted her hand to touch the dark brown curls that tumbled from the knot of hair at the crown of her head to her shoulders. The style would take some getting used to, but it was definitely flattering.
Laina pursed her lips and leaned closer to the mirror. Without the fringe of bangs Annette had insisted were all the rage, her face looked more…more what? Dramatic? Yes, that was it. Her eyes seemed larger, more luminous, their dark blue color striking, their long, thick lashes arresting. And her high cheekbones appeared more pronounced. Her full lips more noticeable. Oh, dear, that wasn’t good!
Laina frowned and rose to her feet. Her mouth was too wide, and with the natural wine color of her lips it looked enormous! She sighed, snuffed the candles and headed for the door. At least she had good teeth. She was thankful for that. And for the borrowed dress. She smiled and brushed her hand over the pale green velvet fabric that whispered softly as she walked. Today she would choose the fabrics and patterns for her new gowns. After she visited with the children.
“And who is this?” Laina stared down at the huge black dog looking up at her. The monster’s white-tipped tail wagged back and forth like a metronome.
“My dog—Mr. Buffy.” Sarah wrapped her arms about the animal’s neck.
The wagging tail increased speed. Laina laughed. “How do you do, Mr. Buffy? I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
The dog gave one short bark and sat down. Sarah plopped down beside him, giggling as he licked her cheek. “Mr. Buffy loves me.”
“I can see that.”
“Doggy.” Mary toddled over and patted Mr. Buffy’s neck, then giggled and stuck her finger in his ear. The dog gave a shake of his great head, toppling her to the floor. She let out a startled cry and lifted her arms.
Laina scooped her up. “You’re all right, Mary.”
“Doggy.” Mary’s lower lip pouted out and she pointed an accusing, pudgy little finger at the big black brute looking up at them.
Laina laughed and squeezed her tight. “Mr. Buffy didn’t mean to knock you down, precious. You tickled his ear…like this.” She feathered her finger along the toddler’s tiny ear. Mary giggled and ducked her head, sliding her little arms around Laina’s neck as far as they could reach and holding on tight. Laina’s heart swelled with longing.
“Tory.”
“Tory?” Laina shot Elizabeth a wordless plea for help.
“She wants you to read her a story.” Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. “The little extortionist asks for one whenever she thinks someone feels sorry for her.”
“Oh.” Laina grinned down at the toddler in her arms. “Aren’t you the clever one?”
“They all are.” Elizabeth rose from the rocking chair, handed her sleeping son to Anna Hammerfield and took Mary into her arms. “No story now, Mary. We have an appointment at the dressmaker’s. We’ll read a story later.” She nuzzled the ticklish spot at the base of the toddler’s neck.
Mary giggled and squirmed. “Mama.” She hugged Elizabeth’s neck, then twisted around and pointed down. “Doggy.”
“All right.” Elizabeth put the toddler down. “Watch her, Mr. Buffy.”
The dog barked once and turned his massive head toward Mary. Laina felt a tug on her hand and looked down. “What is it, Sarah?”
“Do you like licorice?”
“Licorice? Why, yes, I do.” The little girl beamed. Laina laughed and looked at Elizabeth. “Let me guess—a polite extortionist?”
“Exactly.” Elizabeth grinned and reached down to rest her hand on Sarah’s hair.
Laina went down on her knees and took hold of the little girl’s hands. “I think I shall bring some licorice home. We could share it. Would you like that?”
Sarah nodded, gave her a shy smile, then turned and buried her face in Elizabeth’s long skirt.
The afternoon sun was trying its best, but there was still a decided chill in the March air. Laina shivered. The blue velvet coat and matching “jockey’s hat” bonnet she’d borrowed from Elizabeth didn’t fully protect her from the cold.
“I hope you aren’t overdoing it, Laina.” Elizabeth’s brow creased with concern. “Perhaps we should have listened to Justin and had Madame Duval come to the house. Shall I tell Daniel to return home? We—”
“No, no, Elizabeth!” Laina turned toward her sister-in-law. “It was only a momentary chill. I’m fine. And it’s so wonderful to be going out among people again it’s well worth a few shivers.”
Elizabeth laughed at Laina’s vehemence. “As you wish.”
“Oh, look.” Laina leaned closer to the carriage window as they rode by Twiggs Manor. “Abigail’s house looks so lonely and…and sad.”
Elizabeth glanced at the stately, three-story brick mansion. “It is sad. Justin hasn’t decided what to do with it. He can’t bring himself to sell it to strangers, so it sits empty.”
“What a shame. It’s a beautiful house. And the furnishings are wonderful. Abigail had impeccable taste.”
“Yes, she did.” Elizabeth leaned back and blinked tears from her eyes. “I still find it hard to believe she’s gone from us. She was such a strong personality, the memory of it lingers.”
“Strong?” Laina shot a sidelong look at Elizabeth and smiled. “Don’t you mean acerbic?”
Elizabeth laughed at Laina’s dry tone. “Abigail would be pleased by that description. But she was also kind, generous and very wise.”
Laina recognized the sorrow in Elizabeth’s voice too well. “You miss her.”
“Yes…very much. I only knew her a short time, but Abigail was the best friend I’ve ever had. She believed in me when your brother thought me an adulteress and murderer.”
Laina shook her head. “To see you and Justin together today, one would never think your relationship had such a stormy beginning.”
“It was stormy, all right. Justin went around looking like a thundercloud most of the time, and I shivered and shook, waiting for lightning to strike.” Elizabeth’s smile died. “And then it did strike—in the form of Reginald Burton-Smythe.”
She shuddered, then looked at Laina. Her smile returned. “But God turned what Reginald meant for evil to good—exactly as His word promises.”
Laina held back a frown at the mention of God and changed the subject. “And now you have James Justin.”
“Yes. Now we have James Justin.