Eventually Mr. Whitehall said, “That’s true, Lady Dauntry.”
“I suppose the fifth viscount divorced her.”
“No, ma’am. For whatever reason, he did not.”
Kitty sighed in a romantic way. “He must have loved her very much.”
There was something significant in the way the longtime residents of Beecham Dab didn’t answer.
“Father,” said Miss Martha, “did not approve of divorce in any circumstance.”
“But he was not against a separation, in the worst cases,” said her sister.
“As with the Robertsons,” Miss Martha agreed.
There followed a story of a local family a generation ago in which the wife had been very badly treated. Reverend Purslow had helped her to become separated from her husband in the eyes of the law.
“Not all approved,” Mr. Whitehall pointed out, and perhaps he was one of them. “Apart from the morality of the situation, nothing could be done for the children, left in the father’s care without motherly love.”
Kitty saw that it might be a blessing to be barren. If she had children, she wouldn’t be able to abandon them to cruelty. Yet the fifth Lady Dauntry had abandoned hers to her mother-in-law. Perhaps the woman hadn’t been so odd then.
It was time to go. Again, her husband assisted her with her cloak. She trusted Sillikin to follow and took up her muff, pushing it up her left arm again. They left the parsonage on a wave of smiles and good wishes, which Kitty hoped had power.
She halted outside the door. “A curricle?”
The two-wheeled vehicle waited, with a groom at the highbred horses’ heads. The groom was dressed in brown, red, and gold, to match the glossy paintwork. The vehicle looked so delicate, and she thought men mostly used them for racing.
“My luggage?” she asked. That thing looked as if it would be overloaded with three people.
“Has already gone ahead with Henry Oldswick. Do you mind an open carriage?”
“No, but I’ve never traveled in a curricle before.”
“Then I hope you enjoy the experience.” He handed her in, then passed Sillikin up to lie on the coach floor. He walked round and took his seat. “Are you warm enough? There’s a rug if you’d like it.”
“I have my cloak and muff,” she said, pulling the muff down to cover her gloved hands. “I hope we won’t go too fast.”
“Between here and the Abbey and on a country road?”
What a stupid thing to say. He’d think her an idiot.
The groom took his seat at the back, and the horses started forward at a slow pace. Braydon’s gloved hands looked light on the reins, but she had no doubt that he was in control.
“Don’t your horses mind such a plebian pace?”
“I mind such a plebian pace, but we must all suffer in the cause.”
I’m sorry you’re finding this such a hardship.She just managed not to say it.
“Does Miss Oldswick suit?”
“I think so. And you’re right. She promises to be an excellent ally.”
“The servants at the Abbey nearly all date from the fifth viscount’s time. Some of them have been there for decades. It would be unfair to dismiss them without cause, but having another agent in place will be useful.”
“Another agent?”
“We already have my valet, my groom, and my new secretary, Worseley. All are my eyes and ears. Yes, Baker?”
