The Care and Management of Lies Read Free

when she considered evidence suggesting that Tom was the more favored child, it was obvious as he grew that she would have fought battles to protect him, and might even have given her life for him, because Thea loved her brother beyond measure. And in return, Tom had nothing but adoration for his older sister, and had understood how his parents’ preference had wounded her. He would wink at Thea across the table when his father admonished her for not being as good as Tom with the sheep, or the horses, or he would come to her later and ask for her help with some task on the farm, or inquire if she would like to walk down to Micawber Wood. It was as if he were putting a precious piece of china back on a high shelf after it had been knocked down, handling it with care in case the crack might become a break. Tom had missed Thea with a terrible ache when she went away to school, even though there was little discord in the farmhouse during her absence, and he liked the calm.
    Thea’s irritation with the forthcoming union between her best friend—was Kezia still her best friend?—and her brother had rendered her less than generous in her wishes for them. She could not see Kezia as a farmer’s wife, and neither could her late mother, who had maintained from the first indication of a courtship that she would not share her kitchen with another woman, even if that woman was dear Kezia, who had first visited the farm when she was but thirteen years of age. Of course, such potential discord never came to pass. However, it was under the influence of this prejudice that Thea had bought her friend a gift in advance of the wedding. It was a book chosen—if truth be told—for the title alone. Thea leafed through only two or three pages at most before paying for the heavy tome, knowing she could pass it off as a worthy offering from the bridesmaid to the bride.
     
    T he seemingly benign offering represented a dig not lost on Kezia, who accepted with grace, kissing her friend on the cheek. “Dear Thea, how thoughtful of you.” The book was laid bare of its wrapping. “Oh. How . . . nice. The Woman’s Book .” She leafed through the first four pages. “Well, this has everything, doesn’t it? ‘Contains Everything a Woman Ought to Know.’ ” Kezia looked up from the book and smiled at Thea, unshed tears pricking her eyes. “Now you can be assured I’ll be the perfect wife for your darling brother.”
    “I thought it might be something you could use—it has all you might need to learn about being a woman in the home. There’s a section on cookery, though I think you’ll find my mother’s old copy of Mrs. Beeton somewhere in the kitchen, just in case. She was a fair plain cook, so I doubt she ever needed it.”
    “Then there will be nothing missing in my reference library of housewifery.” Kezia closed the book and patted the cover. “And there will doubtless be times when this will be a lifesaver,” she said, setting the book to one side, her smile forced.
    She knew the gift was Thea’s comment on her life to come, as if any depth of intellectual inquiry on her part would henceforth extend no further than a list of ingredients for the next meal or the best way to black a stove. The book had hurt her pride, though she knew very well that Thea—she had a mind to call her Dorrit again, to get under her skin—was more than aware of her Achilles’ heel. Kezia had never had reason to cook, or clean, or tend house. Even while lodging in Tunbridge Wells after she’d taken up her position at Camden, every meal had been prepared for her, and at school she took her meals in the staff dining room. After she was married— in three days, nineteen hours, and fifteen minutes —and became mistress of Marshals Farm, the feeding of men and boys would be up to her. She would be stoker of the farm’s engine.
    Thea thought Kezia saw the land through rose-colored glasses, never having paid attention to the running of the farm. For a