Chapter 5 #2
“Then he makes the list,” Cecilia said brightly to counter her internal observation. It was not time yet to think in terms of negatives. “Does he have a wife to invite?” Cecilia asked.
“No.” Mrs. Norcroft frowned.
The hesitation did not escape Cecilia. Either the man was unremarkable—or inconvenient to describe.
“I don’t think he has ever been married,” Mrs. Norcroft said.
“You also mentioned the Kassells?” Cecilia asked.
“Yes, as I said, they have an estate on the back side of the ridge. Squire and Mrs. Kassell. He is also the magistrate for the area.”
A magistrate. Cecilia felt a familiar tightening in her stomach.
Cecilia screwed up her nose and lips. Memories of her recent experience with a magistrate flooded her mind.
“What’s the matter?”
Cecilia drew in a deep, steady breath to shove the past back into the past. “Sir James and I just finished an investigation in the village where we live. The murders involved our magistrate….”
“Murders!?” The sisters exclaimed in chorus.
Cecilia waved a dismissive hand. “We can discuss that case another time. Who else is to be invited? You said sixteen to twenty people. Baron and Baroness Compton are a given.”
“Yes, as is their house guest, Mr. Percival Hawley. He is to oversee the excavation.”
“He is? I thought it was to be Dr. Talbot,” Miss Nieves said.
Mrs. Norcroft shook her head. “Last Sunday, after services, Lady Compton told me Dr. Talbot, Mr. Hawley’s mentor, was to be in charge; however, he recently broke his leg and has sent Mr. Hawley in his stead.”
Another antiquarian. Cecilia noted the growing number with quiet interest. Coincidence was becoming less convincing.
“Told her!” Miss Nieves huffed a strangled laugh. “My sister was like a hunting dog after she saw a stranger with them in church. The fox, the fox!”
“Katherine,” Mrs. Norcroft objected.
“Well, you were,” her sister said.
“So, tell me about this Mr. Hawley,” Cecilia said, repressing a smile. Siblings could often be entertaining. Then her thoughts clouded, thinking briefly of her late brother. Some siblings, she mentally amended.
“He is not at all like any of the antiquarians I have met in the past. He is rather an open, jovial type, quite enamored of Roman remains. Excited at what they might find, here.” She smiled.
“I admit, I quite liked the man. He will prove a lively addition to the guests… And of course, we will invite Rev. Wayne and his wife. They are de rigueur to any social function, and it helps that they are quite nice.”
“Are they interested in Roman remains as well?” Cecilia asked, mentally calculating the number of people with an antiquities interest.
“Not really. They are curious, of course, as all of us are. They are more concerned for the misadventures that have come Gideon’s way.”
“It is nice to hear someone is!” Cecilia said.
“He is not the only one. Mrs. Hargrave is, as are Katherine and I.”
“I met her and Mrs. Johnston yesterday. They gave me a ride back from the cider mill after the fire. I gather she is a neighbor?” Cecilia asked.
“She has a small estate at the far side of Baron Compton’s. She’s been a widow for two years and depends entirely on her estate manager, Mr. George Entwhistle.” His name left her lips like she had tasted something disagreeable.
Cecilia’s brows arched slightly at that, the reaction noted and set aside for later. “By the way you say that I gather you are not as enamored of Mr. Entwhistle.”
“No. I don’t trust him, and I have heard rumors that he has not done well by some of the women in the area.”
Cecilia’s gaze sharpened slightly, though she kept her expression neutral. Rumor traveled easily in the countryside, truth, rather less so. “A ladies man?” she asked.
“Precisely. But… I understand Mrs. Hargrave’s dependency,” Mrs. Norcroft admitted. “He has done well for her—”
Cecilia frowned slightly. Competence and trust were not the same currency, and too often mistaken for it.
“Though not in the same manner, one hopes,” twitted Miss Nieves softly.
Cecilia nearly snorted to have Miss Nieves voice her thoughts, though she hoped they both were wrong in their assumption, for Cecilia liked Mrs. Hargrave.
Her sister frowned at her, but let her sister’s comment pass, telling Cecilia much about the Hargrave and Entwhistle relationship.
“She did sell a swatch of land last year, an area not known for producing well. She said she invested her money in funds and is pleased with the return,” Mrs. Norcroft said.
“With Boney now in St. Helena in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean the funds have no doubt improved,” Cecilia said.
The women were silent for a moment.
“We should include Mr. and Mrs. Falstaf,” Mrs. Norcroft suddenly said.
“You think so?” her sister asked doubtfully.
“Yes,” Mrs. Norcroft said more confidently. “They are still relatively new in the area and could stand to get to know others better.”
“Can you tell me about them? Who they are? Are they antiquities mad as well?” Cecilia asked.
“They are a delightful young couple in their twenties who are from Bath,” Mrs. Norcroft told her, smiling at her own thoughts of the couple.
“A year ago, Mr. Falstaf inherited the property they live on from his maternal uncle, Charles Searle. The uncle, he was antiquities mad, but I haven’t heard anything about what interests Mr. Falstaf.
” She paused for a moment. “Mrs. Falstaf is increasing and could use some friends.”
“Jocelyn, you with a soft spot?” Miss Nieves teased.
Mrs. Norcroft glared at her sister but continued with her list. “And of course we will invite Mr. Lamont. His wife is in London caring for an ailing mother, so he is left alone here. He is a land surveyor and is looking forward to doing surveys for the excavation team. He is a younger son, fourth in line I believe, to Viscount Ashmond. He has a small competence through his family, so he lives well, not depending on his surveyor income.”
“And if there are more to invite, I’ll need to sharpen this pencil,” Miss Nieves declared.
“I’ll ring for a footman,” Cecilia said.
While the footman saw to a fresh pencil for Miss Nieves, the women thought about the invite list.
“When you wrote down Mrs. Hargrave, did you include her companion, Mrs. Johnston?” Mrs. Norcroft asked her sister.
“No! I did not. I will immediately add her. She can get quite snippy if she thinks she is ignored.”
“Not a typical retiring companion,” Cecilia observed, remembering the woman’s sharp manner from the previous day.
“Not at all,” Miss Nieves said with a laugh.
“We could include Mr. Bagnall-Bently. He likes to amble the countryside, who knows what he might have seen,” Mrs. Norcroft said.
“A good suggestion, sister.” Miss Nieves nodded as she wrote his name down.
“He’s a retired banker. Lives here with his wife, Prudence. She takes ill easily, so I don’t know if she would come; however, I believe he would,” Mrs. Norcroft explained.
“That makes twenty,” Miss Nieves said, reading over her notes, “with the Branstokes, us, and Gideon, and if Bagnall-Bently’s wife attends.”
“That seems to be a good number. Can we settle on that?” Cecilia asked. “We need to give Mrs. Duggleston a final count.”
“And I need to get to writing these invitations to get them out as soon as possible if we hope to get them to everyone today,” Mrs. Norcroft said. “Katherine?”
“Yes, I agree. We should leave.”
“You will not stay for luncheon?” Cecilia asked.
“We cannot, not if we are to get out these invitations and see they are delivered today,” Mrs. Norcroft said, rising from her chair.
Cecilia rose as well and escorted the two women downstairs to the front hall where they collected their bonnets, gloves, and parasols.
“We will come early the night of the dinner party. Before then, please send us notice of any new happenings. I do worry for Gideon,” Mrs. Norcroft said.
“As do we,” Cecilia assured her. “I will keep you informed.”
“Thank you.”
She waved after them as their carriage circled the drive to take them back to Mrs. Norcroft’s home.
She considered for a moment what she had learned about the intended guests.
And about Mrs. Norcroft and her sister! There was much the ladies said and didn’t say.
Cecilia decided she needed to make some notes so she could share the morning discussion with James.