Mona was going on her seventeenth hour of sleep and still shut up in her room.
Violet softly knocked on Mona’s bedroom door. “Miss Mona, time to get up. You’ve slept all day. You need to eat something.” She quietly opened the door and found Mona still asleep. Violet picked up Mona’s evening gown, hung it up, and tiptoed out of the room.
Worried, Violet wanted to call a doctor, but Samuel stopped her. “Leave Miss Mona be, Violet. She’s sleeping off her grief. That’s nothing a doctor can do for her.”
“Maybe Scott drugged her?”
“You know that’s not the problem. Let her sleep. It’s healing.”
Earlier in the day, Rupert Hunt had told them both what Scott had said to Mona about Robert Farley.
“I was close enough to hear the entire conversation. He worked her over about Farley, but she never broke script. Mona stayed focused, even when Scott was cruel. I swear he was trying to break her spirit.”
“Maybe he did,” Violet suggested. “Miss Mona hasn’t been out of her bedroom since she came back from the club.”
“Mona’s a tough cookie. She’ll work this out on her own. I say leave her alone,” advised Hunt.
So that’s what Violet, Samuel, and Jamison did. They let Mona sleep.
Sleuthing on their own, Violet and Samuel purchased more London newspapers and tabloids, and they were not happy with what they read. Lord Farley was now officially Duke of Brynelleth and according to the papers, he was keeping company with Lady Imogene, who was acting as hostess of Brynelleth.
“What should we do?” Violet asked.
Samuel advised, “Act normal and don’t bring up Lord Farley. Let’s carry on as normal. When Miss Mona wakes up, she’ll be very hungry, so I’m going to make a real Southern meal—pinto beans with onions, greens, and cornbread washed down with buttermilk.”
“I don’t think Miss Mona cares for buttermilk.”
Samuel winked. “But I do.”
Violet chuckled.
“What’s funny?”
“I was just thinking about something Mrs. Longworth said to me a few weeks ago when I ordered corn mush for lunch. ‘You can take the girl out of the South, but not the South out of the girl!’”
“She was right, wasn’t she?”
With a lopsided grin, Violet said, “I do believe so because my mouth is watering at the mere mention of that meal, Samuel. Makes me think of home. I miss it so.”
“Let’s get to it then. I’ll send Jamison out for vittles. By tonight, we will have a feast to eat.”
Five hours later, Mona awoke to the aroma of fried catfish, stewed okra and tomatoes, pinto beans, and freshly baked cornbread wafting through her bedroom. She took a shower and washed her hair. Putting on slacks and a soft top, she opened her bedroom door to find Jamison, Samuel, and Violet at a little card table in the drawing room eating off the hotel’s fine china.
Violet jumped up. “Miss Mona. We were just having supper.”
Blinking, Mona glared at them, making the three feel uncomfortable.
Jamison and Samuel glanced at each other, wondering if Mona was angry.
“THAT’S IT!” Mona cried, suddenly. “The solution I’ve been looking for. I’m going to give a dinner party!”