It was a lovely notion. There had been a time when I’d felt the same way about my husband. When the first notes of marriagehad made our days easy, our nights pleasurable. Before other considerations had intruded and added false notes to our song. Until I’d taken that final step that had put a permanent wedge between me and my husband. And he’d become someone who was no longer mine, and I was someone he had a difficult time being in the same room with.
The back of my throat burned. That was the past. It was no use crying over what could never be changed. It was the present that needed my attention.
“I actually hadn’t thought that was the reason for your wife using the rooms in my club. It is a women’s only club, after all.” A one-off assignation perhaps. It appeared that the security at my club wasn’t all that I had thought it to be, but conducting a continuing liaison at a place where men were conspicuous would be the height of foolishness. Add to that the fact my club had no beds, only some divans and chaise longues that would be uncomfortable for the task, and I could only conclude there were much more sensible places for Lady Richford to have an affair. “Perhaps she was using if for another purpose? Did she have a hobby she didn’t want to bring home? Business that would be easier to conduct at my club?”
Richford’s body sagged into his chair. “I apologize. Of course, you wouldn’t entertain such vile ideas.”
I rubbed my ear. It was sweet he believed that.
Richford sighed. “My son is a good man, but he and his mother often butted heads. They were too much alike, I fear.” He gave me a wan smile. “Now Edgar is eager to assist me with my business matters. He wants to help me through my grief. He doesn’t realize that I need to keep my mind engaged or else….”
“Your thoughts stay fixed upon your loss.” I nodded. That I could understand. I didn’t think, however, that Bannister’s newfound interest in business was entirely pure of heart. Theyoung man was greedy for money he didn’t earn, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had an angle to somehow pad his purse.
“And her staying at my club late?” I probed gently. “Do you know the reason?”
Richford scratched at a mark on his desk. “We loved each other dearly, but my wife did enjoy time on her own. She sometimes thought her social duties as viscountess tedious. It wouldn’t surprise me if she only wanted a few spare moments to rest where she wouldn’t be disturbed.”
I refrained from looking at my surroundings. The Richford townhouse was quite large. There would be many rooms where the viscountess could find solitude if she so desired. I had come here to prod answers from Richford, but even I couldn’t bring myself to strip him of that happy delusion.
But Richford showed no signs of deception. If he knew his wife was a thief, I would think he’d show some signs of guilt or embarrassment. I saw none. He was either an exceptional liar, or he was unaware of his wife’s shameful activities.
If she’d engaged in such shameful activities. I only had Mr. Cooke’s word on the matter.
He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a folded ticket. His eyes brightened. “We were to travel to the Continent, to explore the castles along the Rhine. Susan asked for the trip. She said she wanted to start fresh, recapture the bloom of new love.” He blinked rapidly as he gazed at the scrap of paper. “She said she missed me and wanted it to be as it was when we were newly wed, just the two of us.”
Richford cleared his throat. “With Edgar out of the house, it sounded like a lovely idea.”
I nodded. I could only imagine how a marriage would change when children were brought into it. In many ways, the change would be a blessing, but there would have to be a change in thefeelings between husband and wife. You could no longer put the other first. That place of primacy belonged to the child.
I slowly rose, suddenly feeling every year I’d lived in my bones. “I’ve taken up too much of your time, Lord Richford, but if there is ever anything I can do for you, please send word.”
He nodded, but made no move to rise and show me out. His attention was all on that ticket, and to the reinvigorated marriage that would now never occur.
When I stepped outside, I raised my face to the sun. That visit had made me feel unclean. I should have gone to the viscount with the sole purpose of offering my aid and comfort. Instead that had been merely subterfuge.
Of course, Lady Richford’s murderer should be brought to justice. I didn’t question my decision to help find the malefactor, only my methods.
I plodded to my carriage, my driver holding the door for me. I also questioned Lady Richford’s reasons for that trip to the Continent. Was the distance she’d felt from her husband the natural result of time and motherhood? Or was there something else she felt was coming between her and her husband? Was she going to disclose her misdeeds to Richford and seek forgiveness for her sins?
And if she had been going to confess all, was that the reason for her murder?
Chapter Eighteen
Lady Mary
The man dangledsome one hundred feet off the ground from a rope that seemed much too thin for the task. He scraped at the dirt that had accumulated on the hour hand of the clock on the left tower of Westminster Abbey. A worker on a scaffold some twenty feet below him shouted a direction and pointed, presumably at a spot that he’d missed.
These past months I had found watching the efforts to ready London for George IV’s coronation a satisfying diversion. The scrubbing of our national monuments, the furnishing of Westminster Abbey and Hall with jewels and plate, the construction of a triumphal arch that the new king would likely march through. Even though opinions on the new king ran low, there was still an optimism about the coronation. A revival of national spirit that one couldn’t help but enjoy.
Usually. Today I watched the goings-on from my usual seat on the bench across the park from the abbey with a heavy heart.
It was my guilt of course. Lord Richford was a grieving widower, and I’d poked and prodded at his bereavement like a gull tearing at a dead fish on the beach. And had it been because I wanted to see justice for his wife?
Or because I wanted to protect my club?
I nodded to an acquaintance but gave him no encouragement to approach. I feared I didn’t have the fortitude for polite conversation at the moment. The six abbey bells rang out the afternoon hour and still I sat.
Another couple of my acquaintance passed by, but there was no friendly nod from them. I would always be tolerated. My status and that of my nephew’s would made certain of that. But with the recent events at The Minerva Club, some of that toleration had taken on a freezing air.
