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Caroline sprinted to the parlor where most of the noise was coming from.
George was beaming at a table laden with every sort of sweet imaginable.
“Young Master George bought out the bakery,” Miss Anderson, the new governess, intoned from the corner. Her face was pinched and pale.
The table heaved under piles of boiled sweets and frosted cakes and quivering jellies and latticed fruit pies. Long loaves of bread stuck out of baskets, and mounds of buns were heaped high on plates. There were clever sugar sculptures and ribbons of bright candy. It was an explosion of color and fanciful shapes everywhere Caroline set her eyes.
Will gasped and threw himself at his brother, hugging him tight. “This is miraculous!” he cried, and grabbed a fistful of cake.
The aroma of sugar, cocoa, and jam was overpowering in the small parlor, even with the window opened. Several interested sparrows hopped on the windowsill, waiting for an opportunity to snatch up breadcrumbs, and Shelley crouched low, tail twitching as he watched the birds.
George was steadily making his way through the pile, taking a bite of a pie here and sucking on a candy there, his entire front sticky. He was either oblivious to the trouble he was in or trying to make sure he had his fill before finding out what punishment awaited him.
Miss Anderson was wringing her hands. “We stopped in for a licorice twist—asinglelicorice twist, mind you, as Master George had been so good with his lessons today—and then the young master strode up to the baker, calm as you please, and said he would take the whole lot! The baker couldnotbe stopped once he started packing everything up—he said he was perfectly aware of the Reeve fortune and was more than happy to guarantee all his sales in one fell swoop for the day, so he packed up everything into wagons and even carried some of it over himself. That’s him outside now, demanding payment. He was overjoyed, miss, saying he was going to close up shop for a few days and take a little holiday.”
She looked as if she might faint.
The boys continued to feast, smeared with powdered sugar and cream and chocolate.
“You cannot eat any more,” Caroline snapped, pulling Will and George away from the table. “You shall be sick. This was a terrible use of money, George Reeve. Other people must do without while you stuff yourself senseless and leave the balance to rot! What were youthinking?”
His eyes were wild, torn between the table that was the culmination of all his boyhood dreams, and Caroline’s face. “I wasn’t,” he confessed. “But, Caro, we can afford it! Easily! Jacob is always saying how much money we have. Betsy and Susan bought enough clothes for a dozen people. Why can’t I spend any of the money?”
“Because you are a child, and it is my responsibility to buy you all that you need.” She thought of what Arabella had said about the boys, and how everything had changed for them overnight with little understanding of what it all meant. She gentled her tone. “You know that I will always take care of you, and I provide you with reasonable treats on occasion. But this is notreasonable, George. It’s wasteful. So much of this food will not be enjoyed by anyone now. The money is gone, and so will the food be, so who is the winner here?”
His eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and trembly, but she heard it all the same. She passed a hand over his hair, rumpling it. He was still so young.
“Now, you are to go to your room.” She called for Maisie, who, like the rest of the servants, was hovering just beyond the parlor, andtold her to give both boys a good scrubbing to rid them of all traces of sugar and flour.
She bit her lip, then thrust a note at the fascinated footman hovering at the door. “Please take this to Mr. Singh and tell him that we shall be happy to provide the assembly rooms with a feast tonight.”
Miss Anderson gripped her arm as she passed by to follow Maisie. “You may wish to pay a visit to the toy shop too, miss.”
Lord above, it never ended. As long as there was a Reeve in the house, trouble was soon to be found.
Caroline sighed, then shook her head as she strode outside to settle the payment with the baker.
* * *
Arabella stabbed at the paper with her brush, slashing a violet swath over the waves. She was hunched over her table in the attic, working on a series of storm paintings. She knew from experience that the drama of the wind-tossed waves and threatening clouds would sell well. She was lucky that Inverley showed to advantage in every type of weather, whether the ocean was tranquil or heaving.
The past few weeks had seen a steady stream of sales. It promised to be a profitable summer, but she still wasn’t sure that she would have enough at the end of it to purchase the cottage that she dreamed about. If she didn’t give so much of it to Matthew every month, she thought she might have enough—but those thoughts were uncharitable. He and Rachel provided so much to her, and contributing to the household in return was fair.
Arabella felt at loose ends as she finished up her painting and set it aside to dry. When the Reeves had lived next door, there was always something to do. If she wasn’t painting or helping Rachel, then she would wander over to the Reeve household and occupy herself there. Caroline always appreciated her company, whether they were doing chores together or walking to town on an errand or brewing up a cup of tea for a comfortable chat.
She hadn’t understood the hole that their absence would leave in her life, even though the Reeves had moved but a half mile away.
But there was more to her life than painting and neighbors, wasn’t there? Her day didn’t have to feel empty if she couldn’t spend the rest of her afternoon next door.
In fact, there was something important that she had meant to find out more about.
Ever since the day in the tea shop with Maeve, Grace, and Caroline, Arabella had been fascinated about the idea that she might not be the only one in Inverley who fancied other ladies. Maeve had certainly seemed to notice Arabella’s interest in Caroline at the assembly rooms last week.
The idea of putting anything into words terrified her. And yet, she had found the courage to pursue Caroline in earnest, and she had even found the words to stand up to James at the assembly rooms. She should be able to find the courage to confess her feelings to a friend.
The rooms Maeve was renting with her mother were located a few streets from Caroline’s new townhouse, and were not in the first state of fashion. It surprised Arabella when she knocked on the door and waited for the maid to bring her outside for a walk, because Maeve was one of the most fashionable women she had ever seen in Inverley.
“My mother fancies that a sea air is healthful, but adirectsea air is ill advised by her doctor. She didn’t dare choose anything too close to the water itself, though she enjoys bathing every day,” Maeve explained as she left the house with Arabella. “The lodgings around here were snatched up so fast that we had the devil of a time settling on a precise location.”
