by M. J. Haag
“Letters to Mother from an old friend. Do you recall Mother ever mentioning an Elspeth?”
I shook my head.
“Nor do I. Yet, from Elspeth’s letters, it would seem they were close. She apologized for leaving Mother so soon after our births and asked after us by name.”
Kellen seemed intrigued by the idea that Mother had a friend. I could understand why. Although no one had said so, we’d grown up under the impression that Mother had no family. To discover Mother had an estranged cousin and, now, a friend from before our births felt odd. Why would Mother hide letters from us?
“How many letters are there?” I asked.
“A small trunk full.”
“It would seem you found your hobby,” I said, knowing the mystery of who Elspeth was would keep Kellen occupied for a time.
Kellen left me to sit impatiently on my own as I dried before the fire. With nothing to do but run my fingers through my hair, I dwelled on my meeting with Kaven.
I wished I hadn’t met him as I had. That he hadn’t been wearing that cap and crest. But that wish was purely selfish from the treacherous organ buried in my chest. My mind knew better. It was too coincidental that Mother died the day after Kaven had arrived and that he wore the king’s emblem, the same as the boy who’d delivered the amulet. I needed to find the connection between Kaven and the boy; and the best way to do that was to go to the king’s hunting retreat. What excuse could I give for my presence, though?
I thought of the pig and smiled. Tomorrow, the pig and I would go for a walk.
Looking tired, Maeve entered the dining room and joined us at the table. It felt odd taking meals there, but given the possibility of unexpected visitors, we had decided to follow formality for a while.
“How did everything go today?” Kellen asked Maeve as Judith served us bowls of stew.
“Well enough. We had twelve callers. Those whom Anne had pointed out as the most vapid gossips were first. The questions they asked about Margaret’s passing and her place at this estate bordered on unacceptable. They weren’t even trying to hide where their interests lay. Unfortunately for them, the only juicy bit they received was the lemon tartlets. I anticipate we won’t see many guests tomorrow because of it. How did you two occupy yourselves today?”
“I organized the attic,” Kellen said. “There is more room now if any of your possessions do not fit in Mother’s room.”
“Thank you for your consideration.” Maeve smiled warmly at Kellen before looking at me. “What about you, Eloise? Did you find a way to keep busy today?”
“I went for a walk and fell in some mud.”
“A king’s servant startled her,” Kellen added.
I smiled at my sister. She hated when I said anything that made me sound clumsy or incompetent in any way.
“A king’s servant?” Maeve asked. “Out here?”
“This estate sits on the king’s land,” Kellen said. “The Royal Retreat is further along the road through the trees. Several days before you arrived, we heard dogs and learned that the king would be in residence soon.”
Maeve frowned.
“That doesn’t bode well for us.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to suppress my excitement that I might have an ally in my suspicions against the Crown.
“If the king will be in residence, it gives the gossips more reason to return during the mourning period. They will use the excuse of condolences to try to gain information about the king.” She looked at me. “The fact that you’re walking in the woods and running into servants is troubling, too. I wouldn’t dare suggest you refrain from your walks. I believe the fresh air is good for you. However, we will need to see both of you appropriately attired in mourning gowns. We don’t want to start tongues wagging. We shall go tomorrow. Judith and Anne can turn away any visitors on our behalves.”
The idea of going to town did not appeal to me. The trip would mean a regrettable delay in my walk to the king’s estate. Based on the look on Kellen’s face, she was likewise put out by the news. Though, the likely reason for that was due to the band of bullies who’d enjoyed tormenting us.
Maeve didn’t seem to notice either of our subdued agreements.
“Judith mentioned that you lost a necklace because of vermin. Perhaps while we are in town, we should look for a house cat as well,” she said.
Chapter Six
“Some airing will remove the musty smell in no time,” Maeve said, holding a handkerchief to her nose.
I nodded and glanced at Kellen, who sat beside me in our small, seldom used family carriage. She watched out the window as I’d been doing. However, one wouldn’t be able to tell if it was due to the need for fresh air or her interest in the passing countryside. At times, I envied her composure. At other times, I worried for her. She kept so much inside.
Reaching over, I clasped her hand. Her fingers curled around mine, the only acknowledgement she gave the gesture. That she continued to hold my hand was enough to know what she was truly feeling. My other hand clenched into a fist, and I almost hoped that the boys would be at the market again. My anger from my encounter with Kaven remained intact, and if I couldn’t use him as a target, I’d find a substitute. There was no shortage of boorish swine in Towdown.
“I’m at a disadvantage,” Maeve said interrupting my thoughts. “I’m unsure which shops are suitable for producing quality mourning attire.”
“We usually see Madame Thread,” Kellen said. “She’s affordable and adequate.”
Maeve blinked at her.
“Adequate is hardly an endorsement. I shouldn’t imagine she’s very respected with a name like Madame Thread.”
I coughed lightly in the handkerchief I held in my free hand. However, my attempt to hide my humor wasn’t lost on Maeve.
“I sound pretentious, don’t I?” she said ruefully. “I don’t mean to be. I only understand the importance of presentation. While you both are lovely, those who’ve visited us would still judge the cut and quality of the cloth covering you and try to find ways in which it is lacking. Unfortunately, with the King soon to be in residence, I fear we are not yet free of unwanted attention. To protect both of you from the ridicule of wagging tongues, I would like to see you attired by a seamstress of note.”
“We understand,” I said. Maeve’s concern for us was touching. And, I appreciated that she wasn’t attempting to shelter us from our harsh reality.
“Madame Todd’s is well known and frequented by many of the gentry,” Kellen said. “However, I’m not sure we brought enough coin for that.”
Maeve waved away Kellen’s concern.
“Your father’s arrangement with me means you have no need to concern yourself with expenses.”
Kellen smiled in acceptance, a mask to hide what she truly felt, and I struggled to do the same. What had Father been thinking to not only put the burden of two grieving girls on Maeve but also to expect her to cover our expenses while he was gone?
The carriage rolled through town, the wheels grating against the cobblestone that lined the streets of the more affluent districts. I watched the people, and a thought wormed its way into my mind. Would my family still be whole if we’d lived in town like everyone else?
Kellen’s hold in my hand loosened, and I realized the carriage was slowing. I looked out at Madame Todd’s and saw the swathes of prettily colored fabrics in the window.
“What if she doesn’t make mourning garb?” I asked.
Maeve smiled at me. “No one refuses Lady Grimmoire, my darling.”
The door opened, and Hugh offered his hand to Maeve. She nodded regally to him then stepped to the ground to wait for us, so we could enter the store together.
A floral scent, much like spring’s first blooms, wrapped around us. It was a scent I rather enjoyed.
One of the girls welcomed us and asked how she could be of assistance.
“We’re in need of two mourning wardrobes. At least three gowns each. Two suitable for daily wear, which includes
accepting visitors. One for larger gatherings.”
The girl hesitated.
“Will this be a problem?” Maeve asked.
“Not at all. May I have your names, please?”
“I am Lady Grimmoire, guardian to Eloise and Kellen Cartwright.” She gestured to me then Kellen as she made the introductions.
“If you would care to have a seat, you may browse the sketches while I ask Madame Todd to join us.”
Maeve smiled as the girl hurried off, leaving us to find our own way to the chairs placed at the left of the door.
“And that is how it is done,” she said softly. “Note that there is no black fabric on display. Customers don’t want to be reminded of mourning when shopping for pretty things. I’m also certain they do not keep enough fabric on hand for six gowns.”
“Three each does seem a bit much,” Kellen said.
“I promise I am not leading you astray from our goals,” Maeve said. “Presentation and respecting your mother’s memory are foremost.”
She picked up a sketchbook and handed it to us.
“Look through this and find two gown styles you find suitable. I’ll pick the third.”
“Are we really going to a larger gathering while in mourning?” I asked.
“I’m not yet certain. However, it is prudent to be prepared.”
Kellen and I looked through the book. There weren’t many options that were as plain as we were used to. We selected our two dress styles and had just handed the book to Maeve when the girl returned with an older woman.
“Welcome to my shop. Paulette has told me you would like six mourning gowns. Have you any particular styles in mind?”
Maeve encouraged Kellen and me to show the gowns we’d selected, then she took the book and opened to the last page. The dress there had a full, flowing skirt that belled out in an elegant display with lace embellishments. The heartline bodice and trim sleeves looked exquisite and far too formal for anything we could possibly attend while in mourning.
Kellen and I shared a look.
“Are you certain you want this in black and not a soft grey?” the Madame asked.
“Yes, black. My wards are determined to be in mourning for the three months they are allowed. Their dear mother made them swear not to mourn a day beyond that. She was such a selfless woman, our Margaret. She knows these dears are of an age to marry and didn’t want her passing to prevent her children from finding their happiness.”
Madame Todd smiled and gave us an affectionate look.
“You are both lovely. I can see why your mother made you vow not to grieve too long. Black it is, then.” She looked at Maeve. “How soon would you like these completed?”
“The first gown is needed tomorrow. All of the gowns within seven days. You will be appropriately compensated for the rush and awarded more if you can have them done sooner.”
Madame bowed her head in a gracious acknowledgement.
“Come. Let us start with the measurements.”
While Madame spoke in quiet tones with Maeve, two of the seamstresses led Kellen and me to the back of the shop where we stripped down to our underthings and were thoroughly measured.
When we finished, Maeve was waiting alone near the front of the store.
“Just a few more stops, my darlings,” she said as we left Madame Todd’s.
Hugh helped us into the carriage and closed the door. The conveyance bounced as he settled his weight into the driver’s seat. A moment later, he called to the horses, and we started forward.
“Why do we need a dress tomorrow?” Kellen asked.
“And why did you say we’d promised not to mourn more than three months?” I added.
“The answer to both questions is simple. Presentation and appearance. The gossips will now know there is a timeframe for your grieving and will not judge you harshly if there is a slip because it’s your mother’s wish that you not grieve too long. The supposed vow paints your mother in a very gracious and irreproachable light. The request for an immediate gown shows just how deeply you’re both grieving.”
“While I understand the reasons for it, I disagree with lying,” Kellen said.
Maeve quietly considered us before speaking.
“Although your mother did not ask you to make such a vow, do you think she would have if she’d known her time was near?”
“Yes,” I said. “She wouldn’t want us to grieve long.”
The carriage started to slow. When I glanced out the window, I saw we were off the cobbled path on a dirt side street.
“I would like you both to wait here,” Maeve said. “This shop is not suitable for unwed girls.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“An herbalist. I find I need tinctures during my monthly cycle to help control the pain and bleeding. Did your mother speak to you of such things?”
Kellen and I both shook our heads.
“Should your monthly cycles ever cause you issue, please do feel you can come speak to me. I wouldn’t want either of you to suffer when there are remedies.”
The carriage stopped, and the door opened. In the silence that followed Maeve’s departure, Kellen reached for my hand.
“I am not speaking to her about my monthly cycles.”
I giggled.
Kellen and I started bleeding the same time years ago. Our cycles had never caused us much pain. Other than having to deal with extra clothing, it wasn’t something I’d given much thought. But Kellen was right. Speaking with Maeve about monthly cycles wasn’t something I was about to do, either.
It didn’t take long for Maeve to return to us.
“Next stop is the cobbler.”
“I would prefer to return home,” Kellen said.
Maeve frowned.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
I knew that Kellen was feeling fine. However, the best cobbler, which is where Maeve would probably insist we go, was near the market district.
“Kellen is fine,” I said, giving my sister’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s only that our shoes are still in very good condition. It’s unnecessary to purchase another pair.”
Maeve smiled.
“Presentation and appearance, my darlings. Now, who is the best cobbler?”
Kellen answered, her voice carefully neutral.
When the carriage stopped, she and I both glanced out the windows while Maeve waited for the door. Kellen’s fingers twitched in mine, and I followed her gaze. The boys who’d tormented us during our last excursion were leaning against a building not far away. All eyes were on our carriage. As soon as we stepped down, they would see us.
I couldn’t stop the slow grin that parted my lips.
“Please don’t cause trouble,” Kellen said as Maeve stepped out.
“I won’t start it,” I said, moving to the door.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” she answered, making my grin widen.
“No smiling, Eloise,” Maeve said softly. “Please appear suitably aggrieved.”
My humor immediately fled. She was right. Now wasn’t the time, no matter how badly I wished to strike out, to relieve myself of this impotent anger festering inside of me.
Maeve opened the shop door for us and let me step inside first. The cobbler immediately looked up from his work.
“Eloise Cartwright,” he said. His brow lifted in surprise. “Kellen too. I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Is there a problem with the fit of your boots?”
“No, sir,” I answered. “We’re here for a new pair.”
Maeve stepped forward.
“My girls need something more refined to go with their mourning gowns.”
“I see. You’ve come to the right place, miss…”
“Lady Grimmoire,” Maeve said with a small smile. “How long will it take to complete a new pair?”
“I have a few orders to finish but could have them ready by the end of the week.”
“That would be lovely. Do you need measurements?”
He shook his head.
“I took them a few weeks back.”
“Splendid. Would you have time to look at my shoes? I’m afraid the heel has come loose.”
“Of course.”
“Girls, if you would like to look around the market for a set of black ribbons, we can leave as soon as we’re done.”
Kellen nodded and started toward the door before I could come up with a suitable excuse for us to remain with Maeve. Outside, the light blinded me for a moment.
“Where are you two off to?” Hugh asked from the top of the carriage.
“Hair ribbons,” Kellen said.
“Try to stay out of trouble.” The slight shake of his head that accompanied his words said just how much he believed we could.
Side by side, we walked away from the cobbler and headed toward the busy market. The boys watched us pass, their expressions laced with boredom.
“Is there any chance that they will ignore us?” Kellen asked.
“Doubtful.”
“Fighting with them will reflect poorly on Mother's memory.”
“I'm sure Mother would understand.”
Kellen agreed.
I knew the exact moment the boys left their position against the building and started following us. A tingle ran down my back like a sixth sense. They drew closer but did nothing more than follow us.
Pretending not to notice them, Kellen and I stopped at a booth that displayed pretty ribbons.
“Do you have any in black?” Kellen asked.
“We do, miss.” The woman turned her back to us and looked through a small chest she had on another table.
“Didn't expect to see you two so soon,” a familiar voice said from behind us.
“We had rather hoped to never see you again,” I said, without turning.
The woman searching through the ribbons glanced our way. I gave her a small smile.
“How many ribbons are you looking for?” she asked.
“Four please,” Kellen said.
The woman handed us our ribbons, and Kellen gave her a copper. When we turned, the boys were no longer behind us but, instead, were looking at another stall’s wares a fair distance away. They were obviously in a mood to torment us. A pot to the head apparently hadn’t made them any smarter.