Joy for Mourning. Dorothy Clark

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wants you to read her a story.” Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. “The little extortionist asks for one whenever she thinks someone feels sorry for her.”

      “Oh.” Laina grinned down at the toddler in her arms. “Aren’t you the clever one?”

      “They all are.” Elizabeth rose from the rocking chair, handed her sleeping son to Anna Hammerfield and took Mary into her arms. “No story now, Mary. We have an appointment at the dressmaker’s. We’ll read a story later.” She nuzzled the ticklish spot at the base of the toddler’s neck.

      Mary giggled and squirmed. “Mama.” She hugged Elizabeth’s neck, then twisted around and pointed down. “Doggy.”

      “All right.” Elizabeth put the toddler down. “Watch her, Mr. Buffy.”

      The dog barked once and turned his massive head toward Mary. Laina felt a tug on her hand and looked down. “What is it, Sarah?”

      “Do you like licorice?”

      “Licorice? Why, yes, I do.” The little girl beamed. Laina laughed and looked at Elizabeth. “Let me guess—a polite extortionist?”

      “Exactly.” Elizabeth grinned and reached down to rest her hand on Sarah’s hair.

      Laina went down on her knees and took hold of the little girl’s hands. “I think I shall bring some licorice home. We could share it. Would you like that?”

      Sarah nodded, gave her a shy smile, then turned and buried her face in Elizabeth’s long skirt.

      The afternoon sun was trying its best, but there was still a decided chill in the March air. Laina shivered. The blue velvet coat and matching “jockey’s hat” bonnet she’d borrowed from Elizabeth didn’t fully protect her from the cold.

      “I hope you aren’t overdoing it, Laina.” Elizabeth’s brow creased with concern. “Perhaps we should have listened to Justin and had Madame Duval come to the house. Shall I tell Daniel to return home? We—”

      “No, no, Elizabeth!” Laina turned toward her sister-in-law. “It was only a momentary chill. I’m fine. And it’s so wonderful to be going out among people again it’s well worth a few shivers.”

      Elizabeth laughed at Laina’s vehemence. “As you wish.”

      “Oh, look.” Laina leaned closer to the carriage window as they rode by Twiggs Manor. “Abigail’s house looks so lonely and…and sad.”

      Elizabeth glanced at the stately, three-story brick mansion. “It is sad. Justin hasn’t decided what to do with it. He can’t bring himself to sell it to strangers, so it sits empty.”

      “What a shame. It’s a beautiful house. And the furnishings are wonderful. Abigail had impeccable taste.”

      “Yes, she did.” Elizabeth leaned back and blinked tears from her eyes. “I still find it hard to believe she’s gone from us. She was such a strong personality, the memory of it lingers.”

      “Strong?” Laina shot a sidelong look at Elizabeth and smiled. “Don’t you mean acerbic?”

      Elizabeth laughed at Laina’s dry tone. “Abigail would be pleased by that description. But she was also kind, generous and very wise.”

      Laina recognized the sorrow in Elizabeth’s voice too well. “You miss her.”

      “Yes…very much. I only knew her a short time, but Abigail was the best friend I’ve ever had. She believed in me when your brother thought me an adulteress and murderer.”

      Laina shook her head. “To see you and Justin together today, one would never think your relationship had such a stormy beginning.”

      “It was stormy, all right. Justin went around looking like a thundercloud most of the time, and I shivered and shook, waiting for lightning to strike.” Elizabeth’s smile died. “And then it did strike—in the form of Reginald Burton-Smythe.”

      She shuddered, then looked at Laina. Her smile returned. “But God turned what Reginald meant for evil to good—exactly as His word promises.”

      Laina held back a frown at the mention of God and changed the subject. “And now you have James Justin.”

      “Yes. Now we have James Justin. Another blessing from the Lord.”

      The smile Elizabeth gave her radiated happiness. Laina forced aside the envy that flooded through her. “And Sarah talks.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe she’s improved so rapidly she no longer speaks with a lisp. And Mary blackmails everyone. Justin’s stepdaughters, well, rather, your new daughters are a delightful handful.”

      Elizabeth laughed. “I’m afraid so. Mary is a bit like Abigail in her personality. She’s very strong-minded and does not like to be thwarted.” She glanced out the window as the carriage rolled to a halt. “Here we are.” She smiled at Laina. “Prepare yourself. Madame Duval, also, is strong-minded.”

      Laina looked down at the velvet gown she had borrowed from Elizabeth. “No matter. Her designs are lovely. I shall look forward to the challenge.”

      “Elizabeth, look at these fabrics!” Laina followed Madame Duval into a large room and stopped dead, gazing at the bolts of cloth filling the shelves along the side walls. She glanced at her sister-in-law and laughed. “I feel like a starving man released at a feast. I don’t know what to choose first.” She moved forward, touching the materials, feeling the cool smoothness of satins, the softness of velveteens. But it was the colors, the wonderful splash of varied colors that enchanted her.

      “Oh, I must have this one!” She paused in front of a soft sateen in a deep shade of bronze that seemed to glow with light. “And this!” She stepped to the next shelf. “Look, Elizabeth, it’s the very color of spring.” She pointed at the apple-green pongee in front of her and moved on to choose a midnight-blue linen as the shopgirl following in her wake placed the indicated fabrics on a large table sitting in the middle of the room.

      “An’ theees, Madame Brighton?”

      Laina gave a soft gasp of pleasure and hurried forward at sight of the cherry-red watered-silk fabric Madame Duval pulled from a cupboard standing against the back wall.

      “I have been saving theees for the right woman.” The modiste looked down and ran her hand over the shimmering fabric. “Theees must be worn by a woman of style…of verve…of élan!” She tipped her head to one side and smiled up at Laina. “You, Madame Brighton, are such a woman. You wish a gown of theees fabric, oui?”

      Laina smiled. Judging by the gleam in the modiste’s eye, the gown would cost her a small fortune, but she didn’t care. The fabric was food for her beauty-starved soul. “Oui, Madame Duval.”

      “Bon! And now we talk the designs for your new gowns. If you will be pleased to come with me?”

      The little woman had turned all business, her fake accent evaporating, as well. Laina exchanged a wry glance with Elizabeth, then gave an eloquent shrug as they turned and followed the designer into another room.

      “Would you ladies care to join me in the library for an after-dinner game of checkers?”

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