Chapter 7
“Lady Vane, this one concerns the tenant at North Field,” Sarah said, speaking slowly as she read the first line aloud.
She held the letter open with one hand and sorted the remaining envelopes with the other, keeping the table neat. Lady Vane listened beside her, offering a quiet comment on the tenant’s request.
Sarah adjusted the letters so their edges aligned, her fingertips pressing each envelope flat.
Lady Vane’s chair creaked softly as she leaned closer to read the next tenant’s request. Sarah moved the page forward, her eyes moving steadily across the ink.
Sarah reached for the next page, ready to continue, when hurried footsteps sounded in the corridor.
Clara rushed into the drawing room, her cheeks warm from the kitchens and her apron slightly crooked from her efforts.
She clutched a bundle of folded napkins to her chest, several ends dragging along the floor as she hurried toward them.
She stopped right in front of Sarah and Lady Vane, breathing quickly, trying to gather the slipping corners back into her arms.
“I helped carry napkins,” Clara announced, her voice bright. “Mrs. Ellis let me. They kept falling, but I carried them anyway.”
Sarah reached out to steady one of the dragging napkins, her expression softening at the sight of Clara’s determined grip.
Lady Vane chuckled softly. She reached out and lifted one trailing corner from the floor before looking back at Clara.
“That is very good,” she said, her tone warm. “Now take them back and thank her properly.”
Clara nodded, tightened her hold on the napkins, and hurried out again, her steps quick and certain as she disappeared down the hall.
Sarah stifled a giggle as she watched the last corner of linen vanish around the doorway.
Lady Vane glanced over, amusement still lingering in her eyes.
Sarah returned the look and for a moment, they simply sat together in the quiet Clara left behind.
They then turned back to the correspondence, finishing the remaining letters.
Once they were finished, Lady Vane reached for her tea, offering Sarah a cup as well. They sat together for a short while, chatting comfortably. When the tea was finished, Sarah reviewed a few notes, then read a passage from a small volume Lady Vane kept near her chair.
After some time, Sarah realized she had not heard Clara’s voice for several minutes. She closed the book and looked toward Lady Vane. “I should see where Clara has gone,” she said softly.
Lady Vane nodded as Sarah rose from her seat and stepped into the corridor. She paused at each doorway, listening for Clara’s voice. When none came, she moved toward the garden doors, pushing them open with her palm.
The sunlight met her as she stepped outside, warming the stone path beneath her shoes.
As she walked along the hedges, checking the corners where Clara often lingered, a maid appeared from the far end of the garden, holding Clara gently by the hand.
Clara’s knees were smudged with dirt, and she glanced back toward the rose bushes.
“I found her crouched among the roses,” the maid said. “She was watching a ladybug.”
Sarah leaned forward, gently brushing a bit of dirt from Clara’s sleeve. “A ladybug,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Was it red or one of the brown ones?”
Clara brightened at her mother’s question. “Red. It was walking on a petal. I wanted to see where it went.”
Sarah smoothed Clara’s apron. “Next time, tell me where you are going. I did not know you had come out to the garden.”
“Yes, Mama,” Clara said, her voice quieting as she looked down at her shoes.
Sarah touched her daughter’s cheek lightly. “Perhaps the ladybug went back to its family,” she said. “They might have been waiting.”
Clara let out a small giggle, the sound quick and bright. She lifted her free hand, showing a small leaf she had carried with her. Sarah took her daughter’s other hand as they turned back toward the house.
As they walked, Sarah glanced toward the hedges and noticed a pair of birds shifting through the branches.
A light breeze moved across the path, carrying the faint scent of the roses Clara had been exploring.
The house ahead stood calm and familiar, its windows bright in the late morning sun.
The peacefulness of it all settled around her, and Sarah realized she felt more secure than she had in a long time.
I cannot let myself grow too comfortable, she thought, catching the feeling before it settled too deeply. This position will not last forever.
Clara walked quietly beside her mother, likely still thinking about whatever she had seen among the flowers. Sarah guided her up the steps and into the house.
In the corridor, she helped her daughter straighten her apron and brush the dirt from her sleeves. When she lifted the hem of Clara’s muslin frock, she saw a streak of mud across the fabric. Clara looked up at her with a small, apologetic tilt of her head.
“We will change your gown,” Sarah said gently.
Clara nodded, and Sarah led her upstairs to the small room. She helped Clara out of the soiled frock and into a fresh one.
The new dress was a simple pale blue with short sleeves and a gathered waist. Sarah fastened the ties at the back and smoothed the skirt so it fell neatly. Clara stood still as Sarah brushed her hair and straightened her ribbon.
Once Clara was tidy again, they returned to the drawing room. Lady Vane looked up from the embroidery frame resting on her lap, her expression warm.
“You both look quite refreshed,” she said kindly.
Clara gave a small curtsey before settling at a low table with her slate and chalk.
Sarah resumed her seat beside Lady Vane, once again picking up the book she had been reading.
The room settled into a comfortable scene.
Clara’s chalk tapped lightly against her slate, forming small shapes in careful strokes.
Lady Vane’s needle moved through the fabric with steady precision, and Sarah’s voice read the lines without rushing. Sarah shifted her chair slightly, moving herself into the light from the window as she continued reading.
The peacefulness remained until hurried footsteps could be heard in the corridor and a servant appeared at the doorway.
“Lady Spencer, His Grace, and Master Henry have arrived, My Lady.”
Lady Vane looked up from her embroidery frame, her expression composed but touched with mild surprise. “This is unexpected,” she said, laying the work aside. “But not unwelcome.”
Clara’s head lifted at the announcement. “Henry is here?” she whispered, her voice brightening.
Sarah felt a small flutter in her chest at the mention of the duke, but she quickly dismissed it and forced her eyes back to the book she had been reading. Clara’s excitement made her smile, but she would not let her thoughts wander any further.
The visitors entered the room a moment later. Lady Spencer stepped forward first, her chin raised and her gown arranged with deliberate care. She offered Lady Vane a polite smile.
“Lady Vane,” she said, giving a slight nod of her head.
Lady Vane rose just enough to acknowledge the greeting. “Lady Spencer. Your Grace. Henry.”
The duke returned the courtesy with a slight bow. Henry gave a small, earnest nod toward Clara, who smiled at her friend.
Lady Spencer glanced around the room, taking in the embroidery frame, Sarah’s book, Clara’s slate, and the general order of the household. Her eyes lingered briefly on Sarah before shifting back to Lady Vane.
“It is a pleasant afternoon,” Lady Spencer said.
Lady Vane lifted her head. “It is. Clara and Mrs. Shaw spent a short time outdoors earlier.”
Clara’s face brightened, holding her slate a little closer to her chest.
“The afternoon has been clear. We had no difficulty on the road,” the duke added.
Lady Vane gave a small nod. “I am glad to hear it, and I am glad you came to visit. Shall I call for some tea?”
Lady Spencer nodded. Tea would be delightful,” she said, her tone composed. “Perhaps since the day is fine, the children may take advantage of the garden while we enjoy the tea.”
Her tone left little room for interpretation.
Lady Vane’s reply was calm. “If that is your preference, Lady Spencer.”
Sarah closed her book, rising with quiet composure.
Of course I must go with the children, she thought. Lady Spencer does not see me as one of the adults in this room.
Clara moved to her mother’s side, her slate tucked under her arm. Henry stepped toward them, waiting for Sarah to lead the way.
Lady Spencer gave a brief nod of approval. “Yes. They will be more comfortable outdoors.”
Sarah guided Clara and Henry toward the garden doors, keeping her expression neutral. Clara walked with a small bounce in her step, pleased by Henry’s presence, and Henry followed with polite restraint, glancing back once toward the adults.
Outside, the air was mild. As they walked along the path that curved gently through the hedges, Henry attempted a Latin phrase he had been practicing, stumbling over the last word. Clara listened with interest, her hands folded behind her back.
Henry tried again, slower that time. Sarah stepped closer. “You are nearly there,” she said. “You only need to practice a little more.”
Henry nodded, encouraged by Sarah’s words, and repeated the phrase with better confidence. Clara giggled at his success, and the three of them continued walking.
The garden opened before them in soft curves of hedges and bright summer beds. Clara stepped ahead, her eyes already fixed on the nearest cluster of blooms.
“Henry,” she said, pointing toward a row of tall white flowers, “what is the Latin name for those?”
Henry straightened, pleased to be asked. “Lilium candidum.”
Clara tried to repeat it. “Lili…um can…di…”
She stumbled over the last part, and Henry let out a small laugh.
“Try again,” Sarah said gently, smiling at the children.
Clara lifted her chin. “Lilium… can…di…dum.”
Henry clapped once. “Yes. That is it.”