Read Online Sorcery & Cecelia: Or the Enchanted Chocolate Pot by Patricia Collins Wrede - Free Book Online Page B

avoid her first wrath. But now we are no better off, for I am confined to my room and we cannot send anyone to search for Oliver without giving the entire business away.
    It’s all the most dreadful muddle, and I’m sure I have quite a thousand other things to tell you but I can’t think of a thing but poor Oliver. I’m so worried I could scream, and I can’t betray more than faint concern lest I set Georgina off into tears again.
    I can’t help but wonder if Aunt Charlotte allowed me to have a bedroom all to myself expressly so she could lock me up when I was disobedient. Only think how difficult it would be for her to confine me to my room if I still shared with Georgy.
    Believe me, I shall write the instant I have any news. Meanwhile, do try not to go mad with concern. It would be quite foolish for all three of us to fuss ourselves into fits when none of us can do anything.
    Love,
    Kate

13 May 1817
    Rushton Manor, Essex
    Dearest Kate,
    Miranda Griscomb is just as dreadful as Dorothea says she is, and though I am not perfectly certain she is your Miranda, I do not have the least difficulty in believing that she would try to poison people with chocolate.
    She arrived yesterday while I was taking tea with Dorothea and Lady Tarleton. They were awaiting her arrival, of course; in fact, she was two days later than her letter had led them to expect. When we heard the carriage drive up, Dorothea turned quite white. A few minutes later, the footman threw open the sitting room door and announced Mrs. Griscomb.
    She swept into the room, Kate, looking for all the world as if she were returning to her own house after a morning’s shopping instead of arriving at Tarleton Hall after goodness knows how long in a traveling coach. I do not know how she achieved such an effect, for she is quite short and, considering matters dispassionately, not at all imposing. When she is present, however, it is not possible to consider matters dispassionately. I believe it is because she has what Aunt Elizabeth refers to as a forceful personality. It does not hurt in the least that she is so prodigious elegant that she makes even Lady Tarleton seem a dowd. I cannot picture her with her hair powdered, but her eyes certainly fit your description—hard and cold and very dark.
    In any case, there she was, looking down her nose at all of us. Lady Tarleton presented me, then asked if Mrs. Griscomb would like a cup of tea, in the sort of polite tone that means one would really rather she didn’t. Mrs. Griscomb, of course, accepted. I was strongly tempted to ask whether she wouldn’t prefer chocolate instead, but I restrained myself. Under the circumstances, it would have been an entirely goose-witted thing to do.
    “Rushton,” murmured Mrs. Griscomb as she seated herself on the sofa, where she could watch all of us at once. “Surely I have heard that name before. Did we meet in London?”
    “I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” I said politely. “I have never been to London. Perhaps you are thinking of Papa; his histories are very well thought of in certain circles.”
    “I daresay.” Mrs. Griscomb turned to look at Dorothea, apparently dismissing me from her mind as unworthy of notice. (I must own, Kate, that I felt unreasonably relieved.) “Are your trunks ready, my dear?” she asked Dorothea.
    “N-no, Mama,” Dorothea said in a scared little voice.
    “Miranda, you can’t mean to carry the child off at once!” Lady Tarleton said, sounding shocked. “It is quite impossible.”
    “Nonsense,” Mrs. Griscomb said coolly. “Go up and finish your packing, Dorothea, and don’t dawdle. We will not reach Brentwood tonight as it is.”
    “My dear Miranda, you cannot be serious,” Lady Tarleton said sharply. “You must stay the night, at least.”
    “Are you concerned with what the local gossips will say?” Mrs. Griscomb asked. “I assure you, it does not concern me in the least. And Dorothea will be in London, making her curtsey to