A Single Thread of Moonlight by Laura Wood

Author:Laura Wood [Wood, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic
Published: 2021-10-06T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

It was rather later in the afternoon than we had anticipated by the time we arrived home. Cassie had guided us to the local tearoom where they made a particularly good pudding-pie, a custard tart filled with nutmeg and sherry-soaked raisins, and we had spent a happy hour there, drinking tea and talking. The only cloud on the horizon had been Agatha, and she was really more of an oncoming thunderstorm.

At first, she had largely ignored us, looking around for people she knew; then she had grown bored and decided to give us a lengthy description of everything she had purchased that day, down to the last pin. This too was not so bad, because I simply let her voice wash over me and focused on the delicious pie in front of me – it deserved my full attention.

My concentration drifted back in, just in time to hear her say to Sophia in a low, musical voice, “Of course, I should be mortified to be seen in it, but you’re so much more resilient! To think how little you care for keeping up with fashion, or what others say about you … well, I think it’s brave, I really do!”

Sophia had no choice but to thank Agatha for her kind words while Agatha smiled like a shark, showing her teeth. I could feel my own teeth grinding, but I forced myself to say nothing, crumbling the remaining pastry in my hands to dust.

I was silent all the way home, simmering with anger – and not only over the tragic waste of a good pastry. Sophia, who had been so bright and full of fun when the three of us were alone, was now once more reduced to a pale shadow, nodding vacantly at everything Agatha said. That was when I had the idea.

Once we got back to the house, I caught her arm.

“Lady Sophia, may I speak to you in your room?”

Sophia looked startled, but agreed at once, showing me up the stairs and down the corridor until we reached the suite of rooms that the Bells had been given. We had called it the green suite, for obvious reasons, but I could only assume that Helena had changed the name, as it was now fitted out in a hundred different shades of pink, from blush to tiny splashes of fuchsia. It felt a bit like being inside a flamingo.

We went into the bedroom assigned to Sophia off one side of their small private sitting room. I noticed that her possessions looked rather shabby and threadbare when contrasted with all the opulence around them.

“Is something wrong, Miss Fox?” she asked nervously.

“Not at all, Lady Sophia,” I replied. “I only wondered if I might take a look at your gown for tomorrow evening.”

Sophia instantly blushed up to the roots of her hair. “W-why?”

“Because my maid is a miracle worker with a needle,” I said briskly.

Sophia laughed. “Your maid?” She shook her head. “Miss Fox, to be blunt with you, I’m

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