Mrs. Garvis smiled, her green eyes reflecting the light from the fire. “I see.” She looked back and forth between Mr. Harrison and Lucy. “And how long will you be here?”
Thank the heavens—an uncomplicated question. “Another two-and-a-half weeks.”
“Then you will be here for the festival!”
“What festival?”
“Fenswallow has one every spring. We all bring food to share, and there is dancing in the town square. I’ve been trying to talk Mr. Scarper into going.”
Mr. Harrison shrugged. “I’m not much of a dancer.”
Lucy doubted that. She’d seen the man scramble up and down a cart, chase geese, and lift loads she couldn’t budge. He would have been well trained in dancing, and he obviously was physically talented.
Mrs. Garvis put a hand to her hip. “So you’ll be sitting in your room reading while the rest of the town is having a lovely time?”
“I’m certain I’ll be having a lovely time myself.”
“We’ll have to see about that,” Mrs. Garvis said. “One way or another, we will get you to the festival. You can’t live in Fenswallow without at least coming out of your room for a mince pie.”
Mr. Harrington looked up. “Your minced pie?”
Mrs. Garvis smiled, but before she could answer, Mandy burst back in the room and Mr. Harrison rose like a springboard to his feet. Lucy smiled. His manners with Mandy were the most baron-like thing about him. She admired the way he treated Mandy with such overdone respect, even if he only did it because he saw the enjoyment his antics brought her. Perhapsespeciallybecause of that.
“Thank you for the blue.” Mandy said breathlessly. “It was perfect.”
Mr. Harrison pushed forward the rows of scraps he’d pulled out of the box. “Are you going to show me what you are working on?”
“When it’s done.” Mandy held up some of the string she’d left behind. “This is nice, too.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
Mrs. Garvis leaned over to Lucy. “Mr. Scarper was delivering a package here once when Mandy came running out of the house, showing off one of the creations she had made with grass and a few flowers from outside. She loves to paste them together on paper to make patterns, people, or animals. She was crying because her pretty red flowers had gone brown, and the next time Mr. Scarper came, he brought her some scraps from the milliner’s shop. Now her projects never lose their color.”
Lucy smiled as she watched Mr. Harrison and Mandy holding up ribbons and threads, imagining what they could become.
Mrs. Garvis reached over and squeezed her hand. “He really is a good man.”
Lucy sat up straighter. She had been caught staring. Again.
Mr. Harrison announced that it was time for them to leave, and with only the slightest bit of pouting, Mandy let them go.
Mrs. Garvis and Mandy followed them outside and waited while they climbed into the cart. Mr. Harrison clicked his tongue and Marge started forward.
“Mr. Scarper!” Lucy turned. Mandy was running after them. Mr. Harrison pulled Marge to a stop. “Bring me some brown ribbon next time.”
“Brown?”
“Yes. I need some.”
Mr. Harrison bowed his head in her direction. “Consider it done.”
CHAPTER 9
The next day,Lucy sat next to Mrs. Tucker during Mr. Victor’s sermon. Mr. Victor was much more animated than the vicar in the Bridgewater parish, but still she struggled to concentrate on the message he was preaching. Lucy kept her lace cap pulled low under her bonnet. Miss Creighton, the milliner’s shopkeeper, sat one row behind her on the opposite side of the room. Thus far she hadn’t caught the young woman looking in her direction, but she couldn’t relax knowing the one person in town who would associate her with Lady Bridgewater was sitting in the same room as her.
Nearly as bad as Miss Creighton was Mr. Miner. He sat one row in front of her, twisting in his seat periodically to glance at Mrs. Tucker and her. She hunched down to deflect glances from the two people she would rather avoid.
Mr. Victor threw his hands in the air and made a loud proclamation about protecting the innocent. Mr. Miner turned back to face the front, as did everyone else in the congregation who might have been looking elsewhere. If Lucy weren’t mistaken, the vicar’s eyes narrowed at a spot a few rows behind her—the spot she’d seen Mr. Harrison sit with the Garvis family.Mr. Victor’s eyes went to hers next, and his demeanor shifted from fiery wrathfulness to concern.
