Joy for Mourning. Dorothy Clark

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Joy for Mourning - Dorothy Clark


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no longer speaks with a lisp. And Mary blackmails everyone. Justin’s stepdaughters, well, rather, your new daughters are a delightful handful.”

      Elizabeth laughed. “I’m afraid so. Mary is a bit like Abigail in her personality. She’s very strong-minded and does not like to be thwarted.” She glanced out the window as the carriage rolled to a halt. “Here we are.” She smiled at Laina. “Prepare yourself. Madame Duval, also, is strong-minded.”

      Laina looked down at the velvet gown she had borrowed from Elizabeth. “No matter. Her designs are lovely. I shall look forward to the challenge.”

      “Elizabeth, look at these fabrics!” Laina followed Madame Duval into a large room and stopped dead, gazing at the bolts of cloth filling the shelves along the side walls. She glanced at her sister-in-law and laughed. “I feel like a starving man released at a feast. I don’t know what to choose first.” She moved forward, touching the materials, feeling the cool smoothness of satins, the softness of velveteens. But it was the colors, the wonderful splash of varied colors that enchanted her.

      “Oh, I must have this one!” She paused in front of a soft sateen in a deep shade of bronze that seemed to glow with light. “And this!” She stepped to the next shelf. “Look, Elizabeth, it’s the very color of spring.” She pointed at the apple-green pongee in front of her and moved on to choose a midnight-blue linen as the shopgirl following in her wake placed the indicated fabrics on a large table sitting in the middle of the room.

      “An’ theees, Madame Brighton?”

      Laina gave a soft gasp of pleasure and hurried forward at sight of the cherry-red watered-silk fabric Madame Duval pulled from a cupboard standing against the back wall.

      “I have been saving theees for the right woman.” The modiste looked down and ran her hand over the shimmering fabric. “Theees must be worn by a woman of style…of verve…of élan!” She tipped her head to one side and smiled up at Laina. “You, Madame Brighton, are such a woman. You wish a gown of theees fabric, oui?”

      Laina smiled. Judging by the gleam in the modiste’s eye, the gown would cost her a small fortune, but she didn’t care. The fabric was food for her beauty-starved soul. “Oui, Madame Duval.”

      “Bon! And now we talk the designs for your new gowns. If you will be pleased to come with me?”

      The little woman had turned all business, her fake accent evaporating, as well. Laina exchanged a wry glance with Elizabeth, then gave an eloquent shrug as they turned and followed the designer into another room.

      “Would you ladies care to join me in the library for an after-dinner game of checkers?”

      Laina followed Elizabeth through the dining-room doorway and glanced back at her brother. “There’s no one to make a fourth.”

      Justin grinned and joined them in the hall. “We don’t need a fourth player. I shall gain the victory over one, then take on the other.”

      “You believe so?”

      His grin widened. “I do.”

      Laina grinned right back. Justin knew very well she wouldn’t refuse such a challenge—they had been adamant checkers adversaries since childhood. She glanced over at Elizabeth, who had taken Justin’s arm. “What is your wish, Elizabeth?”

      Her sister-in-law smiled and gave her husband a saucy glance. “I wish to give this overly confident gentleman a sound drubbing.”

      Justin threw his head back and laughed. Laina drank in the wonderful sound, storing it in her heart to cheer her when she returned to the loneliness of her home in New York.

      “And how did you find Philadelphia, Laina?”

      “Different, yet much the same.”

      Justin smiled as he held chairs for her and Elizabeth at the game table. “Now, there’s a remark I’m unable to follow. Would you care to explain?” He pulled the checkerboard from the drawer, took his own seat and grinned at them. “Which of you ladies wishes to be my first victim?”

      “That would be Laina.” Elizabeth laughed. “I fall prey to your skill far too often.”

      Justin rubbed the palms of his hands together and waggled his eyebrows, giving Laina what was supposed to be a diabolical look. “So be it! Prepare to meet your fate at my hands, fair damsel!”

      Laina laughed and picked up one of the small cloth bags holding the checkers. “Do not expect me to swoon in terror at your threats, good sir. My fate rests in my own hands—prepare thyself!” She returned his challenge with a cheeky smile and placed her checkers on the board.

      Justin chuckled and did the same.

      “But to answer your query, dearheart, there are many new shops in Philadelphia. It’s quite exciting to see how much the city has grown in the ten years I’ve been gone. But it’s much the same in its cleanliness and friendly atmosphere.” She wrinkled her nose. “New York does not clean its streets daily as you do here. It can become most unpleasant, especially in the heat of summer.”

      Justin nodded agreement. “Your move.”

      Laina slid a checker forward.

      He countered her move. “And what is your opinion of Madame Duval?” His gaze shifted to Elizabeth and he chuckled. “My wife found her a little avaricious on their first encounter.”

      Laina laughed and moved another checker. “I can well understand that. There is a definite gleam in Madame’s eyes. And that French accent she puts on! I’m so thankful Elizabeth warned me, or I know I would have laughed.”

      Laina looked down to hide the gleam she was afraid shone in her own eyes as Justin moved his piece exactly where she wanted him to. “But there’s nothing fake about the designs Madame Duval creates. And the fabrics she imports are simply beautiful.” She moved her sacrifice checker into place, then glanced at her brother. “It was so sad driving by Twiggs Manor today. It looks woebegone. Elizabeth said you’ve not decided what to do with it.”

      Justin nodded and made the forced jump. “I will sell it eventually—it’s too fine a house to sit empty—but not yet. I’m not ready to face strangers living in Abigail’s home.”

      “I quite understand.” Laina looked away from the sorrow that clouded her brother’s eyes—she saw enough of it in her own eyes every time she looked in a mirror. She shook off the gloom threatening to overtake her, jumped two of his checkers and smiled across the table at Elizabeth as Justin growled low in his throat and countered her move. “He’s running from me, Elizabeth, but it will do him no good.”

      She moved her next checker into place and grinned when Justin groaned. “Methinks someone has walked into a trap.”

      Elizabeth giggled. “And straight into a drubbing!”

      Thad halted the horse and stared into the darkness. Had a child run behind that building or not? He drew in a breath, then frowned and drove on. There was no sense in calling—the poor hapless children of the night were too frightened of people to answer. They either crouched silent and still in a hiding place, or crept away in the dark.

      He shook his head and guided the horse onto Spruce Street. “Well, Lord, I’m sure You have a solution for this problem, but I can’t for the life of me figure what it might be. The merchants are so angry over the constant theft of their wares they’ve little sympathy left for the children, who are only stealing what they need to stay alive. And the town council says all the available funds are going into the development of the new waterworks, so—”

      “Doc! Doc!”

      Thad stopped the horse and sighed as a young boy raced toward his buggy. He’d almost made it home. He caught a look at the boy’s frightened face and guilt smote him. Forgive me my selfishness, Lord. “What is it, Tommy?”

      “Ma’s birthin’, Doc. Jenny sent me to fetch you. She said Ma’s


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