Only then did Lucas notice Cecilia's feet. She was wearing black cotton shoes, their white trim worn thin and yellowed.
They looked utterly shabby.
"You don't even tell me you have no shoes to wear."
Cecilia found this so ridiculous she actually let out a dry laugh. "Ha... Yes, it's all my fault. My fault for not telling you I don't have a spare pair of shoes. My fault for parading around in a garish padded jacket and thick quilted pants—clothes even an old woman from the city wouldn't wear—and not having the sense to ask you for new ones."
Lucas's face flushed with embarrassment. "Such a sharp tongue! Since your foot is healed, go help your aunt cook."
"Hmph!" Cecilia set down the shoe sole she was mending and went into the kitchen.
With an assistant on hand, May Sutton started acting like a shop manager, delegating every chore to Cecilia. When Lucas happened to see it, May called it, under the fine-sounding pretext of, training a proper daughter-in-law for her future family.
