The visit to Jennifer Gregory's dress shop on Monday morning, with Polly, was successful. The pattern was chosen and measurements were taken, and Jennifer delighted them with tea and tarts as they perused the patterns.
It was as they were leaving, they saw it happen. Phebe, outside the General Store, frowning heavily, had taken a step off the walkway and been jerked back by a young man in chaps and a leather vest. His mouth was flattened in a frown and he began lecturing her, holding on to one arm with what appeared to be a tight grip. Phebe was trying to pull away, unsuccessfully.
"It's Nicholas," Cicely whispered.
"You are quite right." The deep voice that spoke behind them took them both by surprise. Geoffrey Francis Wellington gave them a gallant bow and grinned.
"Good morning, ladies. It appears my brother has his hands full with your friend. But my money's on him."
Polly turned to grin at him. "I'd keep your money in your pocket, Mr. Wellington, if I were you. You don't know Phebe Watson."
He raised a brow. "No, but I know the two little girls whose company she keeps. Tell me. Who is who?" He looked from one to the other.
"I'm Cicely," said Polly.
"And I'm Polly," said the real Cicely.
Geoffrey stared at them. "Little liars."
Polly jutted out her chin, crossing her arms and tapping her toe on the walk. "How do you know?"
"It was a hunch. But you always change places. Cicely, I hear you are marrying Judge Carter. Congratulations." He was looking down at the correct twin this time.
"Thank you. I'd love for you to be here for it. October seventh." Another glance toward Phebe revealed that Nick had taken her by the arm and swatted her bottom before taking her toward the house. "Oh my," she said, surprised.
Geoffrey winked at Polly. "Told you he'd win. May I escort you ladies home?"
Polly began to protest, but before she knew it, he had turned her toward the house. Cicely fell into step.
"I believe I'll still be here during that time. I have a few weeks between projects and thought I'd come home. Nick, turns out, did the same. It's good to catch up. So, Miss Pollyanna, what are you going to do after your twin gets married? And Miss Cecily, are you going to be all right without her here?"
Polly sighed, ignoring the use of the name he'd called her since she was a child. "I guess I'll go back to school. It's hard. We're going to miss each other terribly. My heart's not in it. But…" she said, and trailing off, did not finish. She only shook her head.
When he looked toward Cicely, she nodded. I'm very happy about getting married. But it's going to be hard not to have Polly here to finish my sentences for me."
He laughed. "You two have no idea how disconcerting that is for others. And how comical." He paused, watching his brother, who had stopped in front of the house with Phebe in tow. She jerked away from him and turned to run but didn't get far. Nick reached around her and suddenly put her over his shoulder and took her around the side of the house.
Cicely gasped. "He's taking her to the stables?"
"Ah. You sound as if you've been there before. My brother wins again. Aren't you glad you didn't bet?"
Cicely grinned as she watched Polly turn to him with a frown. "Your father would be furious with you if he knew you were a gambler, Geoffrey Wellington."
"I don't gamble." He was grinning down at her. "I just know my brother. He doesn't put up with sass. And—" He raised brow and look down at Polly, "Neither do I."
Cicely suppressed a giggle and looked away. They had neared the house and she turned toward them after a moment.
"I'll go inside, I think. Mr. Wellington, would you like to come in to say hello? Father will be home in a moment."
"I'll stay just long enough to do that but then I need to get back to the house. My father is making an attempt to get one of us to help with the running of the estate. He wants to take Mother and do some traveling. Nick is the prime candidate for it, but whether or not he can be talked into it remains to be seen. And if he refuses, I suppose it'll fall to me. Lizzie could, but she has no interest at all in learning. Right now, she's too busy turning heads of all the suitors she can find."
Cicely led them indoors and went toward the kitchen. But just then, the back door flew open and Phebe rushed in, in tears. She said nothing, but ran through the kitchen and to the staircase, racing up the stairs as fast as she could.
Cicely stood there, staring at her mother, who watched Phebe go in astonishment.
"Where has she been? I didn't know she was even outside."
"Mother," Cicely said softly. "Geoffrey Francis is here. I asked him to come in and say hello. He's in the drawing room."
With a final look toward the staircase, her mother followed her toward the front. At the same time, her father came in through the front door with Nick.
"Cinderella? We have a guest for lunch."
"Oh, no." Nick was grinning. "Besides, I hardly think Miss Watson would consent to sit at the same table with me right now. Another time. I just wanted to say hello to the troublemakers." He bowed to Cicely and then to Polly. "But I believe," he said, looking around to see if Phebe was nearby. "Miss Watson has you beat. My word."
Cicely glanced up at her father, who was trying his best to keep a straight face.
But Nicholas continued. "But I see my brother is already here. We need to go, Geoff."
Geoffrey rose to his feet. "Indeed. We promised Mother we'd be back for lunch and we're already a bit behind."
"Perhaps this Friday evening? We'd love to have both of you for dinner. Abel will be here."
"Ah, the judge. I stopped to see him but he was in court. I only waved my hat at him and stepped back out. He looked buried in cases. We'd be delighted, Mrs. Andrews."
"Dinner will be at five-thirty. Come whenever you like. But I have a question, Geoffrey. I was wondering if you'd seen Thomas recently."
"We do cross paths occasionally, ma'am. But not recently. Will he be coming home for the wedding?"
"We're still waiting to hear. If he doesn't, I'm going to be one unhappy mother."
Cicely watched as Geoffrey bowed and left the room. Nick followed, with a mischievous wink at her, and left.
When Phebe didn't show for lunch, Cicely went up to check on her. Phebe wasn't in their room. She looked around and then moved back to the blue room her friend had previously occupied.
"Phebe?"
"Go away." The sniffling voice was choked with sobs.
"Phebe, tell me what happened." Cicely entered the room and swiftly moved to the settee where Phebe sat, looking out the window and dabbing at her face with a handkerchief. "Was it Nick?"
A nod answered. "He's horrid. He spanked me and called me a brat and said I'd better not ever misbehave again. A choked sob followed. "And, he said I'd better not leave the house without telling someone, or he'd spank me again and bring me back home and tell Sheriff Andrews."
"Phebe." Cicely leaned back. "Now you know exactly how I felt last year."
"You couldn't possibly have." Phebe refused to look at her.
"Yes. Remember last year before we left for school, when you talked me into playing a prank on Mrs. Emmons? And Abel dragged me behind the church and did the same thing to me? That's exactly how I felt. I was miserable the whole school year, just thinking about how disappointed he'd been in me."
Finally, Phebe turned to face her. "Oh, Cicely. I'm sorry. I didn't know you would feel like this!"
Cicely nodded. "I did."
"I've always thought Nicholas Wellington was such a handsome man," she sniffled. "But now, I never want to see him again."
"I'm sorry. You may not have a choice. He may be moving back, according to Geoffrey Francis. All of us were standing only a block or so away when Nick stopped you from stepping out into the street."
Phebe closed her eyes in dismay. "Oh, blast. How much worse can it get?"
"I'm sorry, my friend." Cicely put an arm around her, and Phebe leaned against her shoul
der.
"Thank you. I think I'll be all right now."
Things seem to be looking up, Cicely thought to herself as she watched the exchanges between Polly and Geoffrey on Friday night. She felt Abel's hand on hers and turned to look up. He was smiling, his eyes full of fondness. A minute later, he nodded slightly toward Geoffrey and grinned. Geoff and Polly had their heads together and were laughing at each other's stories.
Cicely was delighted. Was it too good to be true?
Phebe was well-behaved that evening, too. She seemed subdued and well mannered. Nick seemed gallant. When he asked if he could take her riding on Sunday afternoon, she appeared delighted.
But the next afternoon, when Phebe mentioned that Nick had promised her he would take her out to Pembroke to introduce her, Cicely became slightly suspicious. Polly must have had the same thought. Their eyes met, behind Phebe's back.
What did she have up her sleeve?
Cicely, however, decided not to say anything at all, and a few moments later, it had disappeared from her mind.
Time Together
The weeks before the wedding were rough ones for Cicely. Deadlines were being met, and things were progressing well. But the Andrews house was plagued with its own set of third story trials.
She and Phebe were not getting along, and it was wearing on everyone. She found herself cross, more often than not. Abel had given her a warning look once or twice and she calmed down, but one afternoon, she openly snapped at him.
"Come with me, young lady," he said, marching her out toward the stables. Thirty seconds later, he had her by the waist and she was standing between his knees.
"What's troubling you? You've something going on in that little head and you're becoming a grouse. Not just to me, but to everyone else in your family. It has to stop."
She sighed. "It's Phebe. Again. Abel, I have only a few days to spend with my family and I feel like I'm being robbed of the joy of being with them, because she's so negative."
"Negative about what?"
"Everything. The wedding. My dress. My ring. The ceremony." She threw up her hands. "And I guess I'm tired."
She found herself settled in his lap within seconds.
Abel was looking down at her. He was close; incredibly close. His wonderful, musky scent that smelled of soap and sandalwood made her want to close her eyes and bask in it.
"Would it help if we postponed the wedding? To give you more time? She'll go back to school soon."
"But so will Polly. And I want so much for her to be in the wedding."
He nodded. "Sweetheart, I don't know what to tell you, except that Phebe is jealous of your happiness so she's trying to rob you of it. It's sad but there it is. I know you're worried and have much on your mind. But only you can control your reaction to her, and if you can't let go of it, I'll have no choice but to spank it out of you."
Her eyes widened. "You're not serious."
"I'm entirely serious."
She stared at him.
"But first," he said firmly. "Tell me what I can do to help you. Can I help you plan? Send invitations? What needs to be done?"
"Everything is done. I don't know of anything you could do right now."
"Shall I go to your father and ask him to speak to Phebe about her attitude toward you?"
She looked down. "He's already done that. It didn't change. And she's moved into our bedroom now, so it's impossible for me to avoid her."
"So you're telling me everything has been done. Everything is on schedule. And the only problem you're having is between you and Phebe."
"Yes."
When he spoke, his voice was deep and ominous. "Cicely Allison, I'm going to tell you this only once. This is affecting us. You've gotten sharp-tongued, even with me. I've ignored it because I understand you have many things on your mind. But I won't continue to put up with it. Consider this a warning."
She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again.
Abel lifted her chin, making her look at him. "You have a decision to make, my darling. You can either control your tongue around others—and me—or I can put you over my knee and control it for you. Make your choice."
Tears pooled in her eyes. "I'll try to control it. I'm sorry, Abel. I never meant to take this out on you. Or anyone."
He enfolded her in his arms. "All right. But the next time this happens, I won't give you an option. I'll bring you out here and correct your behavior. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
He kissed the top of her head. "There is only one week to go, sweetheart. Then you'll be mine. You'll have your own house, and you won't have to put up with Miss Watson anymore." He grinned, suddenly. "You'll only have to put up with me."
She turned and put her arms around his neck.
"Oh, Abel," she said softly. "I love putting up with you."
"Mother, have you heard from Thomas?" Cicely looked up during breakfast.
Her mother blinked and shook her head. "No, and I'm beginning to worry."
"Don't, sweetheart." The sheriff put his hand on hers over the table. "If we don't hear something by tomorrow, I'll go to Leesburg and drag him home. He'll be here."
"Could you send a wire this morning?"
He nodded. "I can. And I will. Relax."
She shook her head. "Thank you. It's just that so many things can go wrong."
Cicely looked from one to the other of them; her father winked at her. Her mother looked down, pushing food around on her plate, and sighed as Phebe spoke up.
"I'd like to go to the post office and mail some letters back home," she said brightly.
Cicely studied her mother's face as she looked up thoughtfully. "Of course, Phebe. Take the girls with you. I'm sure they'd love to get out for a while and walk."
Cicely glanced at her. "I can be ready to go in a half-hour. Polly?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
Phebe looked from one to the other. "I'll wait down here for you, then."
However, when Polly looked out the window from the upstairs, a few moments later, she turned, frowning.
"I thought I smelt the rat. Look. She's gone." Polly's mouth was flattened.
Cicely moved to the window. "Where's she going?"
Polly continued to watch. "It looks as if she just went into the post office. Maybe she really did want to mail some letters."
Cicely moved to the window. "Then why didn't she wait on us?"
Polly rolled her eyes. "Who knows? I certainly don't. That girl has gotten strange." She looked up at her sister.
Cicely grinned. "Well, then. It might be our last chance to have an outing with just the two of us. Or perhaps Mother can go with us. I worry about her. She seems quite vexed with all this wedding stuff. What do you think?"
Polly's face transformed into a wide grin. "I suppose all mothers do that when their first child gets married. Let's go ask her—"
"If she wants to go to the Tea Room, perhaps?"
"Perfect."
Cinderella caught them at the base of the steps. "Where's Phebe?" She looked upward toward the top of the stairs and then into the drawing room.
"Lord knows, Mother. We don't." Cicely shook her head.
"But," Polly added. "We thought we'd go to the Tea Room. Would you like to go with us?"
Cinderella hugged them both at once. "I can't. I'm spending the morning giving the arrangements for the cake and food a final check. Go. And enjoy yourselves. When the wedding is over, perhaps the three of us can go, before we lose Polly to another school year. But be back by lunch?"
"Yes, ma'am."
It was a relaxing morning. Cicely enjoyed Polly's company and felt free to talk as she hadn't in a long time. They laughed. They chatted about old times, and they enjoyed the hot, sweet tea that was refilled before them, along with cucumber sandwiches, scones, and clotted cream, served on the crisp linen tablecloth and the chintz china.
It was with regret that they both paid and gathered their things.
"Polly, let's
go down and say hello to—"
"Absolutely. It's almost time for lunch, anyway."
They turned right and headed toward past St. Mary's, past the General Store, and a moment later, were opening the door at the sheriff's office.
Cicely's eyes opened wide. Two local ladies, Amelia Martin, and her neighbor, Emma Harper, were standing there in the office, shouting at each other, while her father was trying to separate them. She caught a glimpse of Josh Killian in the back, looking amused. The prisoners in the jail cells seemed to be quite enjoying themselves.
Cicely caught her father's eye, who suddenly held up a hand to silence the ladies from their shouts. "Tell your mother I may be late for lunch," he said quietly.
"Yes, sir."
Then he turned back to them. "Ladies, you've been arguing all morning. It's time to resolve this."
"I want my chickens back!" said tiny little Amelia Martin.
"I'm telling you, it wasn't my dog that got them!" Mrs. Harper's voice was the last thing Cicely heard before she closed the door.
She looked toward Polly and rolled her eyes. "Those two have been at it longer than we've been born, you know that?"
Polly laughed. "And they'll end up hugging each other and stopping on the way home and having tea together."
"Yes!"
A familiar voice was heard as they entered the house. And the twins took off running into the drawing room.
"Thomas!" Cicely ran to him, jumping into his arms and nearly knocking him over. He swung her around in a circle before setting her down. Polly, however, held up a fist.
"I was prepared to sock you if you didn't make it," she said with a mock scowl.
"Relax, Pollywog. I would never have missed the chance to see one of my mischievous little sisters marry a judge. It's worth its weight in gold. And if you ever have to stand before him in court, I'll travel across the country to witness it." He winked down at her and grinned.
"Well, trust me, big brother." Cicely tilted her head and made a face at him. "That's never going to happen. Polly and I are the souls of discretion now."
He raised a brow. "And when I believe that, I'll have it printed in the newspaper."
Judging Cicely Page 7