Chapter 1
“Mrs. Swinton, oh, Mrs. Swinton!” called Adelaide Sculthorpe, the Duchess of Tolware. The Duchess’ beautiful round vowels and perfectly enunciated consonants could easily be heard throughout the Dower House of Tolware Estate.
“Yes, Your Grace?” Evelyn Swinton replied. “I will be right there.”
Evelyn hurried in, carrying a stack of books and papers. Her fair skin was flushed with effort, a strand of brown hair had escaped her becoming black lace cap. A smudge of dust adorned one side of her small, well-shaped nose.
“Did you find it?” the Duchess asked.
“I did,” Evelyn replied. “It was with a stack of old school papers and copybooks. I found these books, as well. His Grace must have been very fond of travelogues.”
“Oh, he was, poor man,” the Duchess agreed. “He always became terribly ill when traveling, however. We often rode horseback because he found the swaying of a carriage unendurable. And boats... Oh, boats were right out. Poor George would be hanging over the railing heaving up his toenails before we had even left the dock.”
“Dear me,” Evelyn commented, using a napkin from the tea table to dust off a worn copy book. The legend on the front read,George Sculthorpe, His Book.“That must have made life terribly difficult for both of you.”
“Oh, not so much as you might think,” the Duchess replied. “We both liked staying at home and reading, so it was not so very terrible that he truly had a difficult time traveling. When little Darrius came along, we spent hours doting on him. We were both sad when we learned that we would not be able to give him a little brother or sister.”
“I am so sorry,” Evelyn replied comfortingly. “That must have been difficult.”
“Perhaps not as difficult as actually having another child,” the Duchess winked one eye at Evelyn, roguishly. “Or raising a second one, for that matter. Darrius kept us fully occupied, sometimes from daylight till dark. He was quite the apple of his father’s eye.”
“No doubt that is how it should be,” Evelyn commented. “It is quite tragic when parents do not love their children. It is perfectly clear that you still dote on His Grace.”
“Oh, my, I suppose I do. It seems strange to hear you call Darrius‘His Grace’.I always look about for his father. How I do miss him.”
“I understand,” Evelyn said, soothingly. “Even after time has passed it is difficult to be parted from a loved one.” Evelyn could not prevent a little sigh from escaping her lips.
“Oh, my dear, I did not mean to remind you,” the Duchess instantly looked contrite. “How are you holding up?”
“Well enough,” Evelyn replied. “Much better since I have been here. Everyone is so kind, you most of all.”
“Think nothing of it, my dear,” the Dowager Duchess waved one plump hand, well-bejeweled with rings. “It is only fitting that two widows should help each other. My days had become quite dreary. You make them far more interesting. Now, let me see if we have the right notebook.”
Evelyn handed the notebook to the Duchess. She opened the notebook at once, held up her lorgnette, and began scanning the pages. “Ah, yes, this is the one. We went on a walking tour through the upper meadows and on up into the hills. It was quite educational.”
“Was it, indeed?” Evelyn asked with interest.
“Oh, ever so, my dear. It was spring and we got to see the birds with their little chicks. Once we caught a glimpse of a fox, and we saw tracks of a family of deer, although we never saw the creatures themselves.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Evelyn said.
“It was glorious,” Her Grace rhapsodized. “Of course, I would find it sadly difficult to take such a walking tour now.”
“I understand,” Evelyn replied.
The Dowager Duchess shifted her bulk in her wingback chair. “Oh, you need not mince words, Mrs. Swinton. I am old and fat, barely able to totter from bed to table and back again.”
“I would never have said so, Your Grace. Besides, I saw you dance at the last cotillion.”
“Oh, yes, you did. After all, what is life without dancing? But you also heard me groan and complain for the next three days. It is a good thing that our country life is relatively uneventful or I should be crippled up like an old spavined mare needing to be put out to pasture.”
Evelyn laughed. “Oh, never say so, Your Grace. You are young at heart, and lively when it counts. I daresay you shall live to see all the rest of us out to pasture. But you said you had something for me to look at?”
“Indeed I did. Now let me see if I can find it. Oh, here we are. My eyes are not what they once were, my dear. See if you can read it out.”
Evelyn took the copybook, seated herself on a hassock that stood near the Duchess’ chair, and obligingly began to read,
“Today we trod the grounds of Hillsworth Estate, a fine county home, well-appointed with lanes, fields, and vistas.”