Lady Celia took a deep breath. “To be honest, if I had known of his interest in your sister, I might have tried to dissuade him, since such a match would have landed them both in penury. But I did not.” Lines scored her brow. “I still don’t understand why I did not hear of it. Most gossip reaches me eventually....”
“I believe your husband was failing at the time, so you spent your days at his bedside.”
“And nights too. Yes, I remember those dark days. So that was when this little romance took place?”
“It wasn’t a ‘little romance,’ at least not to my sister. She was devastated.”
“Then I am sorry for her. Though she is likely better off without him. Don’t mistake me. I am terribly fond of Jude. When he was a boy, we were quite close. He was like the son I never had. Affectionate and funny and winsome. But as he grew older, well...”
She sniffed, then said, “I will add that even had I counseled him against the match, that does not mean he would have listened. After all, he married against my wishes.
“Miss Palling also had a dowry. Perhaps larger than your sister’s, I don’t know, but not enough. That’s why he negotiated a life interest in one of the mills as part of the marriage settlement.”
Remembering Mr. Palling’s speech as well as the argument she’d overheard, Anne said, “And now they are facing bankruptcy.”
“Exactly. So now he’ll reap his share of debt and financial embarrassment instead of the profits he wished for.”
Anne thought, then asked, “How did his wife die?”
“I don’t know. The details were kept quiet. Jude told me it was an accident. But I heard gossip too. There were rumors she might have taken her own life. Others blame him, sayingshe died of shame and a broken heart when she became aware of his roving eye. Perhaps even infidelity.”
Definitely infidelity, Anne thought.
“Whatever the truth is, the inquest returned a verdict of accidental death, which meant she could be buried in the churchyard. For her family’s sake, and ours, I was glad of that.”
“Yes, poor woman,” Anne murmured, thinking that Fanny had made a fortunate escape, whether she realized it or not.
Lady Celia said, “By the way, my sisters were far prettier than I was too. Especially Elizabeth, Jude’s mother. Both married for love instead of sense and security. Sir Herbert was not the most handsome or exciting of men, but he was wise with his wealth and kind.
“Marianne, Jasper’s mother, married a man of property but little money, and whatever is left is entailed upon Jasper’s eldest brother.”
Anne remembered him telling her that.
“Elizabeth married a dashing gentleman who turned out to be an adventurer. Risky investments. Gaming debts. Elizabeth died young, poor beautiful creature. And her husband went to see a plantation he’d bought into somewhere in the West Indies and never returned. This was years ago, when Jude was still quite young. He left Jude with us. And what was supposed to be an absence of a year stretched on until we ceased expecting him to return.
“Sir Herbert was good to both of those boys. He saw to Jude’s education and paid for Jasper’s commission. He agreed I might leave each nephew a bequest but was firm that Painswick Court and the bulk of the estate go to our daughter.”
“Do your nephews know that?”
“Not the specifics, nor the amount. Why do you ask?”
“It might be wise to moderate their expectations.”
Lady Celia smirked. “Ah, and lessen their motivation to hasten my end, ey? You are probably right.”
Eventually, Lady Celia grew tired of talking. Anne brought up a late supper for them both, then gave her precise doses of digitalis as well as the laudanum to help her sleep. She wished Rosa were there to verify and initial her records but would ask her to do so when she returned.
Finally, she helped Lady Celia prepare for bed. When the woman was tucked beneath the bedclothes in a fresh nightdress, teeth cleaned and face washed, Anne lit the shaded reading lamp and sat near the fire with a book.
Her concentration was broken by a soft tapping on the door before she’d read two pages. She glanced at the bed and was relieved her patient did not stir.
She rose, stepped quietly to the door, and opened it a crack.
Dr. Finch stood there, bag in hand. While other guests were formally announced, the footman and butler allowed the doctors to come and go as they pleased, and at the moment, Anne was glad of that.
She smiled to see him. Then her smile fell as another possibility struck her. “Is Robbie all right?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “He’s much better.”
