“Good boy, Henry,” Mrs.Digby said, petting him.“Keeping us safe.”
Henry grumbled in agreement, clearly enjoying the attention he was getting from all three ladies.
Mrs.Digby stood and dusted off the seat of her dress.“I think we can get through 1770 before supper,” she said.
The three women said farewell and Sophia followed in Mrs.Digby’s footsteps, a winding path between boulders.Henry trotted ahead, while Enid and Marshall brought up the rear.The air became cool and still as they entered the cave, though Sophia could still hear the waves, quieting with every step away from the shore.Daylight quickly faded as they followed a curving path.Sophia stumbled before she realized the ground sloped upward, but no rocks impeded her passage.Almost as though the path had been swept clean.
No torches were lit but Mrs.Digby’s footsteps did not slow, nor did the clicking of Henry’s nails on the stone floor.Sophia traced her hands along the cave wall as they walked, noting the horizontal stripes here and there in white chalk on either side that marked the path.Sounds echoed as the space closed in, but now and then it changed.
“What’s over there?”Sophia asked when they passed a spot that didn’t echo.
“It fills up at high tide,” Enid quietly said behind her.“Probably has bones.Skeletons of people what drowned.”
Sophia suppressed a shudder.
Darkness briefly engulfed them until they made another turn and a faint light became visible up ahead, almost like they were climbing a spiral staircase.Soon they were in a chamber about the size of a drawing room, with a lit torch beside a heavy wooden door.Amid crates filled with apples, potatoes, and other stores were shelves laden with wheels of cheese, bottles of wine, and other kitchen supplies.Brooms and a dustbin leaned against the wall near the door.
Marshall darted ahead and opened the door, which swung on silent hinges.Three steps up and they were in the kitchen.The entire trip from the beach had taken less time and effort than the gentle path that zigzagged up the bluff farther from the house.
Sophia wanted to ask about the cave and trail, but Mrs.Digby winked at her and put her finger to the side of her nose, before she turned to the maid.“Enid, please bring us tea.”
Enid bobbed a deep curtsy.“Right away, ma’am.”
Mrs.Royston was sitting on the window seat when they arrived in the library, her legs folded and tucked under her skirt, a sketch pad balanced on a small easel before her.“What lovely timing,” she said.“I did not truly wish to sketch another gull just yet.”
Sophia cast a curious glance at Mrs.Digby before addressing Mrs.Royston.“What subject matter has drawn your interest?”
“You.”Mrs.Royston flipped through pages of her sketchpad as Sophia looked over her shoulder, showing drawings of everything from waves rolling ashore during a storm, to Henry chasing a seagull, and Mrs.Digby in her armchair by the fire with Henry sleeping on her lap.
“Quite remarkable likenesses,” Sophia said.She could practically hear the crackle of the fire and Henry snoring contentedly.She gaped.“And now you want to drawme?”
“Only if you’re agreeable.Gertrude writes in her journals to record her life; I sketch and paint.In oils, of course.My watercolors are abysmal.”
“You paint in oils?”Sophia couldn’t keep the shock from her voice.All genteel ladies were expected to sketch and paint, but only in watercolors.She’d always thought it rather unfair that it was considered proper only for men to dabble in oil paints.
“Once you’re a widow or past forty, no one gives a rat’s a—, er, bum what you do.”Mrs.Royston winked at her.
Sophia chuckled as she took her seat at the desk.“Then by all means, sketch away.”
They got through another year in Mrs.Digby’s journal before stopping for the day.Mrs.Royston sketched for over an hour, then napped in the armchair.
As Sophia was putting her supplies away, Mrs.Digby picked up the top sheet of paper and stared at it, frowning, then fanned them as she looked at other pages.“I’ve never seen writing like this before.”
“It allows me to keep up with your conversation.”
Mrs.Digby pointed at a section in the middle of page two.“What does this part say?”
Sophia read over Mrs.Digby’s forearm.“‘We soon learned how much sound carried from one tent to another at night, and how little privacy—’”
“That will do, that will do.”
“This is just the rough dictation.I will copy it into the same writing I used when I responded to your advertisement.”
“Yes, I will definitely be sending to London for more paper,” Mrs.Digby murmured as they left the library.
* * *
After dinner, Mrs.Digby invited Sophia to join her and Mrs.Royston in the drawing room.“Of course you’re welcome to go up to your room or for a walk.But we would appreciate your company.”
