Dearest Kate,
We arrived at Haliwar Tower last Thursday, and Mr. Webb was not prevaricating when he described his improvements to the place. It is quite as comfortable as a London town house, which seems a little odd as it is so very far from town Society. The Webbs have kindly insisted that we remain with them for as long as we stay near Stockton, so we are well settled for some time. James returned to Leeds today on some business or other, but I expect him back tomorrow morning. It is very tiresome to have him forever talking of this property and that. I will be glad when he makes his decision.
I hope the children are behaving well. More than ever, I wish I could have brought them. There is a large pond just east of the tower, where Mr. Webb and James fish in the mornings. Arthur would adore it, though upon reflection, perhaps it is just as well he is not here. I shudder to think of the effect his muddy boots would have on Miss Webb’s carpets.
I enclose a shawl I have been knitting for Diana. I was trying to duplicate the pattern that Lady Sylvia showed us when we were on our wedding journey, but I fear there are mistakes. I trust you remember what she showed us better than I, and can correct my errors. I should like to knit a set for all the girls, but I will not attempt it until you confirm that I have the stitches right.
Yours,
Cecy
(Translation of coded shawl sent from Haliwar Tower, 2 April 1828)
Dearest Kate,
I trust you understood my hint, and still remember the knitting code Lady Sylvia taught us so many years ago. At first, I wasn’t certain I would remember the meanings of all the stitches myself. Your letter arrived yesterday; James brought it up to our rooms and handed it to me with a frown. “Someone is tampering with the post,” he said, and showed me where the seal had been lifted and then carefully replaced.
I was outraged, the more so when James pointed out that we must assume that any letters we send you are being treated in similar fashion. I was ready to give the Webbs a dressing-down in Aunt Elizabeth’s best manner, but James pointed out that we cannot lay this at their door with any certainty. The post sits in the main hall after its arrival, where anyone might get hold of it—Daniel, the other guests, one of the servants. And since two of the guests are elected members of Parliament, and one sits on the Opposition bench, James thinks it likely that the snooping is politically motivated. It is no secret that he is a great friend of Lord Wellington’s. Confronting the Webbs would merely put everyone on notice that we know what is going on. It will be much better to try to catch them in the act, or perhaps to mislead them by writing letters full of false information. (Hence the mention of James’s tiresome interest in property in the accompanying note. It would not do for someone to discover that he is here at the Duke of Wellington’s request.)
I hope you can make sense of this, as it is the quickest safe method of informing you of the situation. I mean to invent some magical alternative soon, as knitting is cumbersome and it will undoubtedly raise suspicions if I send too many parcels. For now, though, it will have to do.
I have still not been able to corner Daniel alone. The closest I came was a brief encounter with Daniel in the hall last night after dinner. He started, glanced around quickly, and realized we were alone. “Mrs. Tarleton!” he said in a loud whisper. “I must speak to your husband!”
“Tell me whatever you want to say, quickly, and I will tell him,” I replied.
It ought to have been obvious even to Daniel that it would be near-impossible for James to escape from Mr. Webb, and that this was his best chance to say anything, but he hesitated. Naturally, Adella Webb came out of the room at just that moment, and the chance was lost. I shall do my best to find another as soon as I possibly can.
I had best close now, as otherwise this shawl will be three sizes too large for any child and someone will surely become suspicious.
Yours,
Cecy