“You’re joking!” Kitty burst out laughing, and Rebecca immediately wished she had not told her.
Kitty collected herself, then said, “Thomas Wilford is staying there too, I hear. Apparently he can’t abide being in Wickworth nowadays and keeps to London as much as possible. And of course their mother lives in the dower house and won’t think of returning, even though Sir Frederick’s wife is gone now.”
“Yes, I was sorry to hear it.”
“Were you indeed?” Speculation glimmered in Kitty’s eyes. “I wonder how long it will be until he remarries. I haven’t heard of him courting anyone yet. Have you?”
Rebecca shook her head, uneasy at the thought. “No. But I have only just returned and would be the last to hear the latesten dit.”
“But you two were always friends.”
“Family friends, maybe. But that doesn’t mean he would confide something so personal.”
Kitty shrugged. “Maybe he shan’t marry again. Maybe no one will have him.”
Rebecca gaped at her. “Why would you say that?”
Kitty leaned closer. “There were lots of rumors about his wife’s death. Maybe you didn’t hear, being away so much as you were.”
Rebecca knew she should insist she didn’t want to hear any rumors, but curiosity stifled her rebuttal.
Kitty went on, “Some say her death was not an accident as the official report claimed.”
Incredulity flared. “Whatever do you mean?”
“A fall down the stairs? And her as graceful as could be, and using those same stairs every day for years? It does beggar belief.”
Kitty lowered her voice. “Others say Sir Frederick discovered she was having an affair—maybe with his brother or maybe with someone else—and pushed her.”
“I don’t believe it.”
Kitty nodded. “She was always going off to Birmingham. None of our shops were good enough for her. Or maybe she had a lover there—some say maybe even Mr. Oliver.”
“Ambrose Oliver?” Rebecca felt more incredulous than ever.
“Exactly. You read his last novel, did you not? The couple’snames were changed, I grant you, but even so, it seemed pretty obvious he was describing an affair with Lady Wilford, her husband none the wiser. Maybe Sir Frederick took revenge.”
Rebecca slowly shook her head. Had John written about a struggling couple, and then Mr. Oliver changed the names to ones resembling Sir Frederick’s and his wife’s? Why would he? Out of spite? Or personal experience?
Kitty continued, “And I have it on good authority that—”
Rebecca held up an adamant palm. “That’s enough. It’s all lies; it must be. I was not well acquainted with his wife, but I have known Frederick Wilford all my life. He would never do anything so odious.”
Kitty raised her own hands in surrender. “All right, all right. Don’t get pettish. I don’t say it’s fact. I was not there. But that’s what people say.”
Rebecca frowned. “You really ought not to spread such baseless, mean-spirited rumors.”
Kitty’s eyes narrowed. “Well, well. Are we not high-and-mighty all of a sudden.”
“I don’t mean to be.” Rebecca felt chastised. “I am only shocked and disappointed to hear what people are saying. I can’t believe any of it’s true.”
“Can’t believe or don’t want to believe?”
Hoping to lighten the tension, Rebecca grinned. “Both!” She took a deep breath and placated, “Well, enough of that. It truly is good to see you again, Kitty, and looking so well too.”
Kitty grinned back, her apple cheeks mounding once more. “Kind of you to notice. And you are still too skinny. Better eat more while you’re at the hotel,” Kitty teased. “How do you think I keep mygenerousfigure?”
She giggled, and Rebecca was relieved to see her pique had faded.
