Chapter 1 #2
“I know, I know. I only worry about her so. Makes me wish I had eyes in the back of my head too! I want to get out the picnic things so we may enjoy lunch. I’m looking forward to your estate ale,” Elinor told Cecilia and James.
“Simon, would you follow after Charlotte for me, please? Do not let her out of your sight! Toddlers are quick when they want to be.”
“I should be delighted to!” her husband said, sweeping Charlotte up in his arms and giving her a tiny toss in the air. The child giggled delightedly.
Simon set her down, and she ran a few steps away from him, then turned to look back.
“Oh, you want me to chase you?”
Charlotte giggled and ran ahead, and Simon pretended to run after her. Suddenly, Charlotte stopped and plopped on the ground to pick up something.
Her father squatted next to her. “What did you find, Charlotte?” he asked.
Charlotte picked up what looked like a brooch from the grass. She studied it carefully, then she waved it in front of her as if expecting it to make noise.
“You found jewelry,” her father said. “May I see?” he asked, putting his hand out to her.
She shook her head and held the brooch closer to her dress. “Mine.”
“They learn that word quickly enough, don’t they?” James observed as he walked toward them.
Simon laughed. “Yes, they do. Please?” he asked, extending his hand to her.
She pouted and pushed the brooch down between her legs.
“What you need is a distraction,” James suggested.
He unhooked his pocket watch from the chain that kept it secure.
“See this?” He showed Charlotte the watch.
She reached out a hand to take it. He pulled it back, barely out of her reach.
“Do you want to trade? The watch for the jewelry?” he asked, pointing to where she had put the brooch.
Charlotte’s little face screwed up tight. Then she brought out the brooch and threw it toward James. He laughed lightly, but he handed her his watch.
“Are you sure you want to give that to her?” asked Simon.
“A deal is a deal. And it is not a valuable watch.” He stood up as he studied the brooch. It was a carnelian cameo of two women dancing. The carving was well done, the color of the carnelian rich and dark. It was set in a simple gold rope-style bevel setting.
Simon picked up Charlotte, who held tight to James’ watch. “It looks familiar,” Simon observed.
“Bring it here,” Cecilia suggested, holding out her hand. “Perhaps Elinor or I might recognize it.”
James returned to where he’d been sitting on the blanket and handed the brooch to Cecilia.
“I do recognize it! Look, Elinor, it’s Mrs. Jones’ brooch! She wears it nearly every day,” Cecilia said as she passed it to Elinor.
“Yes.” Elinor came up beside Cecilia and gently rubbed her fingers over the raised relief.
“I often see her trace a finger over the design when she is stressed, as it relaxes her,” Elinor said with a relaxed, remembrance smile.
“I asked her about the carving one time, as typically, cameos are of one person in profile. She said the dancing girls represented sisters.”
Cecilia looked at it again closely. “Probably lost it during her last painting session,” she said.
“Pity about the clasp being broken. That’s likely how she lost it.
I can take it to her tomorrow,” James said, “as I promised the vicar I would consult with him on the upcoming church repairs.” He took the brooch from Cecilia and tucked it in his waistcoat pocket before lowering himself to sit on the blanket again.
“Lunch is ready,” Elinor said. “Looks like our respective cooks have filled our baskets. We shall not go hungry!” she said as she passed around a platter full of various meats and cheeses, followed by a basket of bread, while James poured them mugs of ale.
“Oh, I dare swear I ate far too much of your cook’s delicious fare,” Cecilia said when all that remained of the picnic food were crumbs.
Elinor wiped her daughter’s face as the toddler swayed and her eyes drooped. Elinor laid her down in the shade. Charlotte tried to fuss but too quickly succumbed to sleep. The parents laughed.
“Charlotte has the right of it; a nap right now is in order,” Simon said. “I’ll lie down beside my little darling,” he yawned.
Cecilia stood up. “I need a walk to counter all that food.”
“I’ll join you,” Elinor said. “We’ll let the men watch the children.”
“Don’t I get a say?” James teased.
“No,” the women said together. Laughing, he raised his mug of ale in salute.
Cecilia and Elinor walked to the edge of the meadow where shade and sunlight played together through the trees.
“I wonder when Mrs. Jones was last up here?” Cecilia mused.
“She tries to come a couple of times a week when the weather is favorable,” Elinor said. “I believe she has been up here several times recently.”
“I can’t see her walking up here.”
Elinor laughed. “No, not at all. She has a one-person pony cart she drives, or sometimes she rides. But it is a peaceful place, and she has been terribly depressed since Georgia Inglewood died, you know.”
“No, I didn’t. I haven’t seen her since the night of your dinner party,” Cecilia said.
Elinor compressed her lips. “She took the young woman’s death personally.”
Cecilia looked at her inquiringly.
“Miss Inglewood was increasing,” Elinor said softly, as if they were in a crowd with others around to hear.
“Oh dear,” said Cecilia.
“Precisely. And she approached Mrs. Jones to help her get rid of the child.”
“Why would she come to the vicar’s wife, of all people?”
Elinor shrugged. “I have no idea, but she did, and Mrs. Jones said she couldn’t help her.
She tried to counsel the girl to tell her young man the truth, but she got angry with Mrs. Jones and launched all manner of nastiness at her.
I only know this because she was so loud I could not help hearing part of the conversation through the open vicarage window as my maid and I walked the lane to the drygoods store.
After the girl was done spewing vitriol at Mrs. Jones, she ran off.
I went to see Mrs. Jones. She had her face in her hands and was silently crying.
She told me all that had happened, not only the bits I’d heard.
I consoled her until the vicar came home, then she got up and practically threw herself at the poor man, knocking him back against the wall. ”
“Gracious! And you saw this?”
“Yes, and you know our vicar is a slender fellow,” Elinor said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Surprising she didn’t knock him to the ground.”
“Indeed.”
“She didn’t mention any of this during the dinner party two nights ago, though we all were rather subdued, as we’d recently heard the news of Georgia’s passing. She was quite pleasant that night,” Cecilia observed.
“She may be a bit of a gossip; however, as a vicar’s wife, she understands what to gossip about and when to remain silent. She entreated me to silence over what I’d heard and learned, as I entreated my maid as well.”
Cecilia nodded. “When the girl died, it was given out as she died of something to do with her gut…something called an iliac passion. Do you believe that is the truth?”
Elinor shrugged. “I don’t know; however, I know Mrs. Jones feared the girl committed suicide, and if that were the verdict, she could not be buried in the family graveyard, or be prayed over.”
“As Squire Inglewood is now our local magistrate, do you suppose he paid off the coroner to espouse his explanation?”
“I don’t know, though what I do know is that Dr. Patterson was not allowed to see the body.”
“How strange. Elinor! Charlotte’s up!” Cecilia exclaimed, seeing Charlotte running across the other side of the meadow.
“Oh no! The escarpment is that way!” Elinor cried, running after her daughter.
Cecilia followed, veering slightly to the left in case the child did one of her lightning-fast swerves that way.
Luckily, Elinor caught her daughter before she reached the cliff. Charlotte thought it was great fun and giggled and squealed with delight at the catch-me game.
Out of breath, Elinor sank to the ground, holding tightly to her happy child.
Cecilia let her breath expel. She smiled at her friend and her daughter. On the picnic blanket, Hugh was stirring. It wouldn’t be long before she, too, was as worried for her child as Elinor, she mused as she watched James pick up Hugh and walk toward her, no doubt to change his nappy.
He handed the fussy baby to her.
Suddenly, he stepped closer to the escarpment, then turned toward Cecilia. “Take Hugh back to the blanket,” he said, his tone low and urgent.
“What?” she asked, startled by her husband’s change in manner.
He did not answer her; instead, he turned toward the picnic area. “Simon! Simon,” he yelled.
Cecilia turned to look down the escarpment to see what had suddenly caught James’ attention.
Gleaming white chalk bands showed through bits of grass and shrubs in a near-vertical descent to the shallow valley some sixty feet below.
A dangerous place for anyone to get too near, as attested by the sad, crumpled body of Mrs. Jones lying on a ledge more than halfway down the cliff.