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“How delightful; a summer ball,” Pearl gushed. “It is a long time since we have been to one of those, isn’t it Mabel?”
“Oh, yes. It’s so exciting.” Mabel nodded enthusiastically and recounted the occasion of the last ball she attended. “We will have to hurry and arrange our outfits won’t we, dear? This date is next week. Oh my, that is not much time, is it?”
“Yes, well,” the Squire coughed uncomfortably.
Sophia smiled when she realised the Squire had probably handed out the invitations so late in the hopes that nobody would be able to go. He was doomed to disappointment though when the assembled guests accepted their invitations right there and then. By the time the acceptances had dwindled, the Squire seemed to be positively morose.
“Next week?” Delilah gasped. “I must purchase a new outfit.”
“Don’t you think you have enough already?” Sophia snapped without thinking. The glare she levelled on her aunt was withering, and enough make Delilah fall silent. “The back room is positively bursting with new outfits as it is.”
Sensing acrimony between Sophia and her aunt, Mabel and Pearl looked at each other. Mabel then leaned forward in her seat and patted Sophia’s hand in a motherly fashion that was just plain awkward. Sophia tried to smile, but failed miserably.
Jeb’s gaze sharpened at the uncharacteristic display of ill-temper from Sophia, and wondered what was going on. Sensing trouble within the family, he turned his attention to Delilah.
“It’s been so long since I had a new outfit. I cannot imagine such a thing,” Pearl gasped.
“I know. Purchasing a new outfit when you already have a room full of them is a wasteful scandal, isn’t it?” Sophia replied, aware that her aunt was glaring at her evilly.
In spite of the fact that they had spent some considerable time changing the outfits Delilah already owned, her aunt clearly had no intention of using them. The prospect of having a new dress was just too much temptation for her aunt to ignore.
Instead of taking her aunt to task over it, Sophia decided to allow the weight of public opinion to make the point for her. The scandalous amount of clothing her aunt already possessed was beyond excessive and was nothing short of greedy.
Picking up on the Harvell’s penchant for gossip, Sophia leaned toward them conspiratorially.
“You should see Delilah’s spare room. It is stuffed to the rafters with all sorts of dresses and paraphernalia that Delilah could never hope to use.” She landed a look on her aunt that was as displeased as she could make it. “I do not consider that yet another trip to the dressmakers is called for. Not even for the Squire’s ball. I am sure the Squire hasn’t seen half of the outfits my aunt possesses.” She didn’t give Delilah the opportunity to protest and turned to Morwenna Banks and Mavis Arbuthnot, who were scandalised at Delilah’s apparent greed and not afraid to say so.
“There are some people’s selfish endeavours in this village that are completely beyond the pale,” Mavis replied. “It is a scandal that some people are working all the God given hours to be able to put bread on the table while others are frittering away money left, right, and centre. It is just not right, I tell you. Why, I cannot remember the last time I had a new outfit. There is nothing wrong with the ones that I have, and I intend to use them.”
“Yes, we can see that,” Delilah sniped as she ran her condemning gaze over the older woman.
Sophia watched Mavis’ cheeks flush beneath the withering glare Delilah landed on her. For the first time in her life, Sophia was horrified to be related to the rather ugly creature her aunt had turned into and threw an apologetic look at the object of her scorn.
“It is safe to say that excess is a sin, do you not think, Mrs Arbuthnot?” She turned to glare at her aunt as she spoke.
Mavis Arbuthnot nodded energetically; an unholy glint of piety in her eye. “It is; excess is a sin.”
“Speaking of taking away,” the Squire declared loudly. “Has anyone caught the thief yet? I want my damned snuff boxes back.”
Sophia shook her head. “No, but it is only a matter of time. After all, it is a question of conscience for the thief to realise the seriousness of what they have done and stop. If they don’t then they deserve to have the magistrate to catch them and lock them away.”
Jeb knew then that she knew something about the thefts.
“Quite,” he said quietly.
He had yet to take his eyes off her mainly because was enthralled by the way the deli
cate curve of her cheek was porcelain smooth, and tinted a perfect shade of pink that emphasised her youthful beauty. His fingers itched to stroke that alabaster expanse of flesh to see if it was as soft as it looked.
“Well, it is a matter of conscience of the person who helps themselves to things that don’t belong to them to stop isn’t it? It is also a matter of conscience for anyone who may know about the thief to do something about it. I don’t know why the magistrate doesn’t just search the homes of everyone who was present at these gatherings to look for the missing items,” she replied.
“Good point,” Jeb murmured, and watched her cheeks stain a darker shade of pink.
To see this kind of agitation in Sophia warned him that the topic was more personal than he would have liked to see. He suspected from the stiff way she held herself that she was coldly furious about something. However, he doubted she was put out at Delilah’s sniping at Mrs Arbuthnot. Delilah had done something to offend her niece. That led him to wonder whether the ill feeling between the two was because of something she had learned since she had been in the village; something Delilah had done.
Having said that, why would Sophia want to remain in Framley Meadow if the relationship with her aunt was so frosty?
He frowned when the thought of Sophia leaving the village left him wanting to force her to stay. He was a member of the Star Elite. A worker; a fighter; whose work involved long hours, plenty of travelling, and not much in the way of a home life. Why, then, was he suddenly considering asking Sophia to stay in a village he didn’t intend to remain in once his investigation into Tabitha’s disappearance, and the thefts, was over? Not only that, but he had instinctively considered the village to be his ‘home,' not the house he owned in Worcestershire.
