brought a satchel, which she set on the floor next to her after withdrawing a rather small sketchbook. I’d seen people of leisure sitting in parks with such books, sketching away at the scenery.
As she flipped to a clean page, I saw that part of the book had already been filled. Faces jumped out at me, one of them Cynthia’s, but the pages moved too fast for me to study the pictures. I saw large flowers skim past and ordinary things like chairs and windows, all very lifelike.
“Quite beautiful,” I said. “If you don’t mind my saying, miss. Very skilled.”
Miss Townsend acknowledged this with a small nod. “You are kind. Thank you.”
“And she is modest,” Cynthia broke in. “Overly so, I’d say. Monsieur Degas praised her work, and he is notoriously hard to please. And has little use for the female sex.”
I agreed with this difficult-to-please man that Miss Townsend’s work—what I could glimpse of it—was indeed worth praise.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Cynthia said. “Mrs. Holloway’s a good sort, so if you have any need, simply ask her. She can provide you with food and drink that tastes of heaven.”
“Hardly heaven,” I said in mild rebuke.
“Now you are the modest one.” Cynthia laughed at me and strode off, calling a greeting to Mr. Davis as she went.
That man entered the kitchen, radiating disapproval. He took in Miss Townsend, who settled herself and quietly took out a pencil, but pinched his lips together and said not a word. He and Mrs. Redfern had been told to expect Miss Townsend’s presence, and both had expressed disapprobation.
However, Mr. Davis would never air his grievances in front of a guest. He only gave me a look and glided out again.
Miss Townsend had been sharpening her pencil with a knife, but I saw her flash of eyes that told me she’d taken in Mr. Davis’s admonition.
“What do ye want us to do?” Tess asked Miss Townsend in eagerness.
“Nothing at all,” Miss Townsend replied. “Go about your business. I will keep out of your way.”
Tess looked a bit disappointed, but she returned to her task of rolling out dough for this evening’s tarts. She couldn’t cease glancing every few seconds at Miss Townsend, especially when that lady’s pencil began to whisper across the page.
Miss Townsend proved so unobtrusive, however, that after a time, even Tess forgot she was there. I sautéed pears for the tart, adding in the last of the dried berries in the larder. Soon spring would arrive, and with it, delicate vegetables tasting of sunshine and rain, a promise that winter’s hold had loosened.
Not long later, Mrs. Redfern, who’d come into the kitchen to fetch a pot of tea for Mrs. Bywater, glanced out of the high windows.
“It’s that Mr. McAdam,” she said stiffly. “With a delivery, it seems.”
I wished I hadn’t raised my head so quickly at the mention of his name. Mrs. Redfern gave me a frown, as though to remind me of her scolding the night before.
“He can’t help making deliveries,” I said, wiping flour from my hands. “It is his job. I do need the things he brings.”
“You do indeed.” Mrs. Redfern fixed me with a gaze. “But he should not linger.”
“Never mind, Mrs. Redfern. As I told you, I am not rushing to elope with him, or even walk out with him. We are friends.”
“Be ever so fine if you did elope,” Tess put in, not helping matters. “He’s sweet on you, Mrs. H.”
“Hush,” I said sternly. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
“Afternoon, Elsie, Tess, Mrs. Redfern.” Daniel entered on the heels of this comment, moving with his usual briskness through the scullery, a sack across his shoulders. He lowered the sack to the kitchen floor, making a show of rubbing his back. “Good day, Mrs. Holloway. A bit wet out, and your order of potatoes has nearly done me in. Can I beg a bit of coffee from you before I must face the elements once more?”
His face was damp, his cap dripping water on to my clean floor. Mrs. Redfern humphed and marched out with a teapot and cup on a tray. Daniel grinned after her then turned to me.
“Save any scraps for me, Kat? I mean, Mrs. Holloway.”
His dark blue eyes glinted, his smile as charming as ever. He dragged his cap from his head and wrung it out with exaggerated care, making Tess laugh and Elsie giggle.
He cast his gaze about the room as he always did when he entered one, no matter which persona he