Stranger at the Dower House (Strangers Book 1) by Mary Kingswood

Author:Mary Kingswood [Kingswood, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sutors Publishing
Published: 2020-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

17: Luggage

On Saturday, Louisa and Esther visited Miss Cokely, the milliner, to collect a bonnet Louisa had ordered. While Esther exclaimed over it and tried on a number of very fetching confections, entirely unsuitable for the wife of so sober a man as Dr Deerham, Louisa went to talk to Miss Cokely’s very elderly mother. Mrs Cokely was the widow of a former parson in the village, and on his death had moved with her daughter from the parsonage into a tiny cottage just across the road. On her first visit to the milliner’s shop, Miss Cokely had told her in a whisper that her mother had not been herself since Mr Cokely’s death.

“She’s never been quite the same, Mrs Middlehope,” Miss Cokely had said. “Like a poor lost soul, she is. She sits in that front window all day, watching who goes by and noting every wagon and walker who passes. ‘The mail carrier is seven minutes late today,’ she’ll say. ‘Yesterday it was only two minutes late.’ That is how she goes on, but quite harmless. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Ask her about things that happened forty years ago, and she’s perfectly sensible, remembers it all as clear as if it was yesterday, but as to what actually happened yesterday, well… you see how she is. Poor Mama! I keep my display of bonnets in the same room so that she gets a bit of company from time to time. Not that she’ll answer to the point if you ask her a question, but it would be a kindness if you were to pass the time of day with her.”

Louisa sat on the chair conveniently placed for visitors beside Mrs Cokely. “Good morning, Mrs Cokely. How are you today?”

“Mr Exton went by at seven minutes past noon.” At her side was a small table with a clock and a notebook, and she tapped the clock with her pencil as she spoke the time.

“Did he so? I have never met Mr Exton. What is he like?”

“Mags passed here at eight minutes before noon.” Another tap.

“Mags… from the Hall?”

“Parson’s maid scrubbed the front steps of the parsonage from twenty minutes before noon until two minutes after.” Again a tap.

It was very sad, for she seemed lucid enough, just somewhat disconnected from the world.

Three of the Miss Saxbys arrived just at that moment, and in the flurry of greetings, Louisa found her arm being touched gently.

“Miss Agnes?” she said, smiling at the girl’s anxious face.

“I wondered… do you know anything very much about… about the gentlemen staying at the Grove? Miss Beasley knows very little about them, but they are friends of yours so—”

“Not friends,” Louisa said quickly. “I heard of their exploits through my sister-in-law’s family, that is all.”

“But you have talked to them… dined with them. Do you know if any of the gentlemen is married? I met them at church, but naturally one cannot ask directly.”

“Oh.” Louisa tried not to smile at such a question. Poor Agnes! And she was not in the least abashed by her own forwardness.

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