Page 54 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

Beneath Agatha’s honeyed talk I could hear the calculating tone. So that’s what the friendly act was about … she was on the lookout for weaknesses, and I needed to remember that I should have none.

“No kinder than anyone else, I assure you.”

“Always so modest,” Agatha smiled, her eyes wide. “Sometimes, Miss Fox, I think you seem almost too good to be true.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I was still mulling over Agatha’s choice of words while she pored over the display of gloves in the dressmakers’. Was it simply a chance phrase – or was she more astute than I had given her credit for?

I chewed my lip. I was being paranoid.

“What do you think, Miss Fox?” Agatha asked, holding up two pairs of gloves in front of a mirror.

“The lemon kid ones,” I replied. “They’ll go better with your gown.”

“Now, how do you know that?” Agatha asked, her eyebrows lifting.

Damn. “Cassie mentioned you were wearing yellow,” I said, as easily as I could manage. “I asked her – I wanted to make sure what I had was suitable. I haven’t been to many balls.” I was laying on the innocent country girl act as thick as possible now, and Agatha shot me a sharp look.

“I’m sure that whatever you have to wear will be perfectly suitable,” she said. “You haven’t put a foot wrong since you arrived.”

“You’re very kind to say so,” I murmured.

“Cassie,” Agatha turned away from me and called to her sister, “you should try on your gown.” I felt my shoulders slump in relief.

Cassie yawned elaborately. “Why bother?” she said, with a tiny wink in my direction. “No one will be looking at me, Agatha, not with you there.”

Agatha’s smile of satisfaction curved in the mirror. “I suppose that is true,” she said. Then, like a cat lazily sharpening her claws, her eyes settled on Sophia.

Sophia was perched uncomfortably on the edge of her seat, trying and failing to look relaxed. Her face was all too easy to read. This shop in Rochester might not be as elegant as Madame Solange’s, but Sophia still stood out like a sore thumb in her dingy grey dress.

“Dearest Sophia,” Agatha purred. “I hope you have something suitable for tomorrow night. Perhaps we could pick up something to go with it? A new fan, some gloves, a new pair of stockings?”

“I-I don’t think so,” Sophia said.

“Are you sure?” Agatha asked, her voice all kindness. “I hope you won’t mind me saying, but as a friend I think I must warn you that you’re in danger of becoming something of a dowd.” As she spoke, she ran her eyes appraisingly over Sophia. “I know how modest you are, but there would be no harm in a few pretty touches, I assure you. I’d hate for you to be embarrassed.”

“I-I can’t… That is, I’m not…” Sophia stuttered, a deep red flush washing over her face.

“Actually,” I said getting to my feet, “Sophia and I were going to join Cassie at the bookshop. I believe Cassie has some things to collect?” I widened my eyes at Cassie.

“Oh – yes!” she exclaimed, pulling a watch from her pocket. “And look at the time. We’d better go before … before they close.”

“Close?” Agatha’s nose wrinkled. “It’s barely lunch time. These country hours are so provincial.”

“Will you be all right with your maid?” I asked sweetly. “Unless you’d like us to wait so that you can join us? I understand from Cassie that one can spend hours in the bookshop here.”

“Ugh,” Agatha sniffed. “If you want to spend all your time in a dusty old bookshop, that’s fine with me. I have several new things to get, ribbons and a new shawl, and that hat in the window was rather sweet…”

With Agatha sufficiently distracted, Cassie and I hustled Sophia out of the shop, Matilda following a half-step behind.

Once out on the street I released my vice-like grip on Sophia’s arm. “Spiteful cat,” I said, forgetting myself for a moment.

“W-what?” Sophia asked, startled.

“Agatha,” I said smiling ruefully. “I know I shouldn’t say it, but … really!”

Cassie snorted. “You’ve got that right. Don’t take it personally, Sophia. It’s just a game to her. She’s like my mother – enjoys watching people squirm.”