Part 47 (1/2)

”Perhaps.” Helpless, Heather glanced at Era.

Em shook her head. She had originally thought Heather too young, too immature, to sense Lucinda's silent woe. Over the last few days, she had realised that Heather both saw and understood, but with the confidence of youth ha~l'imagined matters would work themselves out somehoW.

Now, even Heather's confidence was flagging. She was as concerned as Era, which worried Em all the more.

The door opened; Fergus appeared at Em's side and presented a silver salver.

”The mail, ma'am. And there's a letter just hand- delivered for Mrs Babbacombe. The boy didn't wait for a reply.”

Em picked up the white, sealed packet, painfully aware of the sudden tension that had gripped Lucinda.

One glance at the scrawled direction was enough to tell her it wasn't from Harry. Helpless to do otherwise, she handed it over without comment, trying not to watch as, the seal broken, the expectation that had momentarily lit Lucinda's face died.

Lucinda frowned as she read the short missive, then, grimacing, laid it aside. She looked down at her toast, now stone-cold. With a tiny sigh, she reached for the teapot.

Em was beyond social niceties.

”Well?” Lucinda glanced at her, then shrugged.

”It's an invitation to some houseparty in the country.” ”Whose?”

Lucinda frowned.

”I can't immediately recall the lady.” She sipped her tea, glancing down at the note.

”Lady Place.”

”Martindale?” Em started to frown, then her face cleared.

”Oh--that'll be Marguerite. She's Elmira, Lady Asterley's daughter. She must be helping out. But that's wonderful!”

Em turned to Lucinda.

”Just the thing! Some fresh air and genteel fun is precisely what you need.

Elmira is one of my oldest friends although we haven't met in ages. She'll be getting on, now. When's this party to be?”

Lucinda hesitated, then grimaced.

”It starts later today--but the invitation's just for me.”

Em blinked.

”Just for...?” Then she blinked again, her face clearing.

”Ah--I see!”

Lucinda looked up.

”What is it?”