Sophie was delighted to discover Mrs.Digby believed in breaking her fast with a full meal.The grande dame sat at the head of a dining table that could easily accommodate a dozen diners.Yet the room felt cozy, with cream and green striped wallpaper and several strategically placed potted plants and vases of flowers.As in the entry and hall, paintings of landscapes adorned the walls, showing mountains, jungles, and deserts, as well as seascapes.
“Always had to send Digby off with a full belly,” Mrs.Digby said, accepting a plate from the butler filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, kidney pie, and ham.“Thank you, Sergeant.”She cut into the rasher of bacon and took a bite.“If I was going to cook a meal for him, why would I restrict myself to just toast and a cup of chocolate?”She spread marmalade on a slice of toast.
“What is your preference this morning, Miss Walden?”The butler gestured at the dishes on the sideboard.
“Sergeant?”Sophia momentarily ignored the sumptuous display of food to eye the butler more closely.She hadn’t considered until now how much the rigid posture and impassive face of a butler and soldier had in common.
“Yes, Miss?”
“Sergeant Kendall was Digby’s batman,” Mrs.Digby said.“I don’t know what I would have done after Digby’s funeral had Kendall not insisted on looking after me.”
“It has been my honor, ma’am,” Kendall quietly intoned.
Sophia took another glance between Mrs.Digby’s plate and what was on the buffet.“I’ll have the same, thank you.”She didn’t trust herself to load her plate, as there was more food on the sideboard than she’d seen at one time since leaving the Academy.
As soon as Sophia was seated, the butler served her toast and chocolate, and a bit of everything else Mrs.Digby was eating.It tasted so good, she barely kept from moaning.
“A full meal, that is, only when we had enough food.Rations were often scarce.”Mrs.Digby dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.“The troops would be so much better off if women were in charge of victualling the troops.I can’t tell you how unreliable the chain of command was in fulfilling requisitions if the requested items didn’t go ‘boom.”
When they finished eating, they went directly to the library, Mrs.Digby keeping her refilled cup of tea.She took a chair by the window so she had plenty of light for reading her first journal, written decades ago.Her little white terrier jumped up beside her and rested his head on her lap.
After a furtive glance at the chairs by the fireplace, both empty, Sophia settled at the desk.She slipped her spectacles out of her skirt pocket and put them on, got out paper, used a penknife to sharpen a pencil, and prepared to write down everything Mrs.Digby read to her.
“Soon after our wedding in the spring of 1768, the Army transferred Digby’s regiment to Boston in the American colonies…”
Chapter 3
Fortunately for Sophia’s hand, Mrs.Digby paused frequently to sip tea, squint at her journal, or stare into the middle distance as though pondering if a particular detail should be shared with posterity.Sometimes she added a splash of brandy to her teacup.Sophia wrote as fast as she could to capture every word, knowing she would copy it later in penmanship that others could read, and used the pauses to sharpen her pencil or flex her fingers to prevent cramps.
By the time the clock struck eleven, Sophia found herself wishing she had a cup of tea of her own as well as a chance to get up and walk about a bit to stretch.Mrs.Digby was staring into space when the bookcase left of the fireplace swung open and a woman with a cloud of grey hair escaping its bun stepped out, carrying a tea tray.
Sophia snapped her jaw closed.
Different dress, but it was definitely the same elderly woman from the night before.She gave the bookcase a slight bump with her hip and it swung back into place, and the woman set the tray on the low table.
“Dear Agnes, you have marvelous timing.”Mrs.Digby set down her journal, open facedown to mark her spot.“I had just decided my throat is parched.”
In short order, Mrs.Digby introduced Sophia to Mrs.Agnes Royston, who was the sister of Mr.Digby, and widow of Mrs.Digby’s younger brother.
“I came for a visit shortly after Gert and my brother Horatio moved here,” Mrs.Royston said, adding two lumps of sugar to her tea.
Sophia tried not to stare at the smear of blue paint on her nose, or colorful splashes of paint on her sleeves and the back of one hand.
“Three months later we still hadn’t tired of one another’s company.”Mrs.Digby selected several of the little pastries.
“And more than twenty years on, I’m still visiting.”The two ladies chuckled.
No one said anything about Mrs.Royston’s nap in the chair last night but at least now Sophia knew how the woman had disappeared from the room.When she looked closer, to the other ladies’ amusement, she discovered the books in the bookcase nearest the fireplace were actually just a painted illusion.Had she tried to touch the leather spines last night during her search, as she had considered doing, she would have realized it was a one-dimensional image rather than actual books.Whoever had painted them was quite talented.
She opened the concealed door and peeked in.Though the light in the narrow passageway was dim, she caught a whiff of something delicious baking and heard the cook, Mrs.Bickford, giving instructions to the scullery maid.
“Yes, there are other secret passages,” Mrs.Royston said softly when Sophia returned to the sofa, the older lady’s eyes twinkling with good humor.
“You could have rang the bell pull instead of carrying a tray yourself,” Mrs.Digby admonished as she refilled her cup.
“But then I would have had to rely on the maid’s choice of which treats to put on the tray.”Mrs.Royston selected two of the little tea cakes.
They chatted a bit longer before Mrs.Digby resumed dictating.Mrs.Royston started mending a stocking from the basket beside her chair.Soon she dozed, her head lolled back, her sewing abandoned on her lap.
