With that, Thea pulled the door to the friends’ parlor shut.
“What her ladyship desires,” she announced, “is to learn to play billiards. I am sure I shall excel at the game.”
Ignoring Sally’s bemusement, Thea lifted a stick from the rack and approached the table, but there her pride failed her, for she hadn’t the slightest idea what to do next. She poked at a ball with the unwieldy stick.
Across the table, Sally winced. “You’ll tear the baize if you’re not careful. Use your other hand to steady the cue while you line up your shot.”
“What do you mean?”
Grabbing another cue, Sally demonstrated, making a bridge with one hand and sliding the cue into the furrow between her thumb and forefinger. She deftly struck a ball with the tip of the cue, sending the ball slamming into a second ball, which spun across the table and into a pocket. Without pause, she did it again and again, before standing back, holding her cue upright like a soldier resting his musket.
Yet again, Thea found herself envying the other woman’s confidence and competence. Her dress and behavior were scandalously improper, of course, but who cared, when one was as assured as that? If Thea could learn that during her sojourn here, it would have been time well spent.
“And the aim is to hit the balls into the pockets?” she asked.
“Yes.” Sally tapped a book on the corner table. “A Practical Treatise on the Game of Billiards. You can read more here.”
It took Thea a few attempts to gain sufficient control over the cue, but when she finally struck a ball cleanly, it was so satisfying that she immediately did it again.
“Luxborough said you’ve been attached to the estate for years,” Thea said, as Sally gathered up all the balls and used a wooden frame to form them into a triangle. The housekeeper had dropped her deferential manner, and Thea was glad of it.
“The previous countess—Luxborough’s mother—hired me to teach letters and numbers to the younger servants and tenants’ children, so I came to live in the house.”
“And did you live here at the same time as Katharine?”
“Katharine never lived in this house.”
Sally bent over the table and slammed her cue into the triangle of balls, scattering them over the baize.
“A zealot in London made the strangest claims.” Thea affected a breezy tone to cover her curiosity. “That Luxborough killed her with sorcery.”
“She died in a riding accident. He told you that, didn’t he?”
“Of course,” Thea lied, her mind racing as she lined up her cue. “I thought aristocratic ladies rode so well they always held their seat.”
“Anyone would have trouble keeping their seat if they’re riding away recklessly in the middle of a storm.”
Thea’s arm jerked and the cue missed the ball completely.
“Too many Gothic novels and too much imagination,” she said, repeating one of Ma’s recurring scolds. Her cheerful tone sounded false to her own ears. “When you say it like that, I picture some Gothic heroine wildly frightened and fleeing for her life.”
But Sally did not laugh. Instead, she went still. Too still. Her knuckles where she gripped the cue were white, and her sudden tension sent a shiver up Thea’s spine.
“That…that isn’t what happened, is it?” Thea asked. “She wasn’t…fleeing?”
Silence blanketed the room, broken by the ominous ticking of a clock. When Sally finally spoke, it was only to say, “Katharine liked Gothic novels, too.” She met Thea’s eyes for one tick of that clock before looking away again. “You had best address such questions to your husband.”
“To my…? Oh, yes. Right. I forgot. My apologies. I ought not put you in a difficult position.”
Sally gave a derisive snort. “Why not?” she muttered. “It’s the position with which I’m most familiar.”
They played on in silence, and soon Thea was so engrossed, she forgot about Luxborough and his late wife. Each time she sank a ball in a pocket, a heady confidence spread through her limbs, and she danced with the cue in celebration.
“You really are not what I expected,” Sally said, laughing.
“What did you expect?”
“Honestly, I could not imagine what kind of woman Luxborough would marry. But you’re not…”
“I am not an aristocrat, if that is your meaning. I grew up poor. And I’m not accomplished like real ladies are. When my father became rich enough to afford tutors, my entire education consisted of learning how to pass as genteel. Pretending to be something one is not takes up an inordinate amount of time and energy.”