Page 72 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal

“You look quite well,” Vera murmured, answering Candace’s unspoken question. “One would never be able to tell you were just crying. Your eyes look luminous, not red at all.”

She nodded her thanks, but there was no time to verbalize one as James, Arthur, and Seamus walked through the door.

“Good morning, ladies,” James said. He winced and nodded at the dog. “Apologies for bringing Seamus, but we went for a ride to get out of the house, and Seamus chews the upholstery if we leave him in the carriage.”

“He’s not a bad dog,” Arthur was quick to interject. “He just doesn’t like the thunder. He never chews anything unless he’s left alone, I promise.”

James nodded. “That, at least, is the truth.”

As if to prove how excellently behaved he was, Seamus huffed and flopped to the floor, half on top of James's boots. James rolled his eyes.

“Hello, Seamus,” Vera said cautiously.

She approached the dog slowly, watching him, while the others watched her instead. When she was about two feet away from the dog, he cracked open one eye, took Vera’s measure, then rolled slightly to the side and lifted his paw in invitation.

Vera smiled and squatted down, rubbing the dog’s belly. “You are a good boy, aren’t you?”

Seamus huffed his agreement, and Vera laughed as she stood. James gave her an encouraging smile.

“We’re delighted you came,” Candace said. “Vera and I were just talking about how boring the rain can be.”

“Yes.” Arthur sighed and sprawled on the leather sofa. “I’ve done all my puzzles, and I’ve only been able to visit the stables three times.”

“Three times this morning,” James muttered.

Candace grinned at him.

“Then there’s nothing for it,” Vera said. “We will have to play a game that my brothers dearly loved when they were your age. With four of us, there are barely enough players, but perhaps we can round up some of the staff to join us.”

At this proclamation, Benson, who’d been standing at the wall, looked vaguely alarmed.

“What’s the game?” Arthur leaned forward with an eager smile.

“Hide and go seek.”

The young boy whooped with joy. Seamus stood and crossed over to him, tail wagging.

James shook his head, though he smiled. “Now you’ve done it, Vera. You cannot take such a suggestion back.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Candace agreed. “I’ll go and see which of the staff would like to play. Vera, Arthur, you must hammer out the rules between the two of you and be prepared to present them upon my return.”

Several minutes later, a respectable gathering of staff had joined them in the parlor. When she’d entered the kitchen, Candace had been delighted to find Thomas sitting at the table across from Hortense. He had readily accepted Candace’s invitation, flicking a wink at Hortense when he thought no one else was looking.

In addition to Hortense and Thomas, they’d been joined by two floor maids, the entire kitchen staff, the stable boy, the footmen from London, and Mrs. Penn herself. Vera announced the rules, color high on her cheeks as she cast her voice loud enough to be heard over the low murmur of voices.

“The seeker shall stand in the main hall and count to sixty at a loud volume. No fast counting, and no peeking. The others shall hide as best as they can.”

“If I might add, Miss Vera?” Mrs. Penn asked, her eyebrow raised. At Vera’s nod, she announced, “No entering bedrooms—common rooms only. No servants’ quarters. And if you find dust in a hiding spot, you must remember where so you can report it to me afterward.” There was a murmur of laughter as Mrs. Penn gave a pert nod to punctuate the end of her instructions.

“Very sound, indeed,” Vera said.

“How will we decide who is the seeker first?” Candace asked.

James sketched a faint bow. “I thought it only fair that I go first.”

“Well, everyone to the main hall, then.”