Page 98 of The Seven Rings
They sighed over tiny onesies, tiny frilly dresses, laughed over games.
And Cleo won a basket filled with lotions, candles, bubble bath, and more by naming the most songs withbabyin the title.
On the drive home, Sonya glanced over as Cleo hugged her basket. “How did you know all those songs?”
“Some from a childhood where people liked to sing, and the rest? Owen. Stick with Owen long enough and you end up knowing all the songs.”
Cleo gave the basket a grin. “I got the best prize, and that was a lot of fun.”
“It was. I just really loved the girly-girlness of it all. And Anna looked so happy. Ready to get back to the hunt?”
“We’ll see what the men came up with, change into get-it-doneclothes, then I’m ready to put in some time. Did you smell this candle? Night-blooming jasmine. Mmmm!”
“Show-off.”
Before the weekend turned to weekday, they’d found small treasures in a carefully handwritten guest list, a menu for a garden party, and an invitation to a garden party hosted by Mr. and Mrs. Owen Poole.
Given the date—and a quick check of the Poole family history book—Sonya determined Owen and his second wife, Moira, would have been married two years.
She spent some evenings sorting through what they’d found, creating boxes for each bride or family group. She would do better, she thought, better than leaving it all neglected in drawers or forgotten in trunks.
What seemed too impractical to display, well, she’d have the individual boxes, something future generations could go through.
She wanted to think of others living in the manor, appreciating its beauty and resilience, having the connection with those who’d come before.
What they didn’t find nagged at her. In all the hours of hunting, they hadn’t found a wedding dress worn by any of the seven brides.
“I understand Astrid’s,” she said to Trey. “It would’ve been ruined, and Lisbeth’s, likely the same. I can see Johanna’s, Agatha’s, because they died in their wedding dresses. I thought we’d find Marianne’s, Catherine’s, and I really hoped we’d find Clover’s.”
“Patricia Poole would have ordered anything that belonged to Clover removed, probably destroyed.”
“You’re right. I need to stop obsessing about it and get to work. You need to get to work, too.”
“I do.” Trey took his go-cup of coffee, called to his dog. Sonya walked with him to the door, kissed him goodbye, waved him off in a steady shower of rain.
Then she stood as the silence of the manor fell around her and looked up at Astrid’s portrait.
“I’m not giving up, and I won’t. Just putting it away for a few hours.”
She went upstairs, Yoda at her heels. She sat at her desk, took a breath.
“Ready when you are, Clover.”
When the music started, Sonya booted up and got to work.
Later, she saw Cleo make her sleepy morning trek to the kitchen, then her awake and ready return trip.
“Rain’s supposed to stop in another hour or two, but I’m sticking with the studio today.”
“On your secret project?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Check the closet.”
“Always do.”
Sonya barely noticed the rain, then only noticed when it stopped, as Yoda gave an apologetic little whine.
