A groom hurried forward as the vicar’s pony trap pulled to a stop in front of the house, and Daniel handed him the reins before going around to help his sister out of the open-air vehicle. It had been a cold ride over to Cliffe Manor, and despite the lap robe across their legs and the hood Thea had drawn up around her head, she was chilled, her cheeks pink. As soon as Thea stepped into the warm house, of course, her spectacles fogged up, and she had to take them off and wipe them before replacing them on her nose.“Vicar! And Althea! How delightful to see you,” Mrs. Cliffe, the Squire’s wife, greeted them effusively, squeezing Thea’s hands in both of hers. The Squire’s wife, like her husband, was built along generous lines, and her rather square form was encased in a gown of green velvet with a wide, low neckline that revealed an alarming amount of white bosom. A pearl necklace, elbow-length white gloves, and a green turban with a long, curling peacock feather completed her ensemble.Next to her, the Squire was far more soberly dressed, but his hearty greeting equaled his wife’s.
