Chapter Eight
Raith was aware of the perturbation in Ottery’s face as the lawyer watched him march about the man’s office, the drab great-coat swishing about his ankles. He would not be deflected. He had explained the urgency of his need, reporting Rosina’s reaction to the whole matter of being publicly seen. Not omitting, though without going into detail, how that had provoked such a divisive quarrel he was now driven to this means of enquiry.
He had signally failed to bring his wife out of the intolerable alienation. She’d said the rules had changed, but it was by her hand. She was no longer the vulnerable waif he had married. From the instant he had mentioned that accursed contretemps in her bedchamber, he had lost her to some other creature whom he did not recognize — one who regarded him with hatred. Even his soft approaches could not penetrate her stiff reserve.
“I care not how you do it, but find out what you can. You can start, I suppose, with this nurse of hers.”
His lawyer frowned. “I have no direction, my lord. Lady Raith and I corresponded only through the Receiving Office at Brinklow. What is more, I don’t even know the woman’s name.”
“And I had that letter in my hand, curse it! I cannot remember it, for I was too much out of my head to pay any heed.”
“Out of your head, my lord?”
“You need not look at me like that, Ottery. I know I have ruined everything, and there is no immediate resolution to be hoped for. Which is why I am asking for your help. Think, man! What can you do?”
Ottery considered. “Do you know anything about this nurse, sir?”
“Only that she is blind and lives in a cottage somewhere.”
“Then it must be within easy reach of Brinklow. I had best begin at the Receiving Office, and check the villages roundabout.” He paused, evidently pondering. “Is there no other lead, my lord? Have you found out nothing at all?”
“There was a guardian in the case. My wife claims that he died, but I think she is lying.” He hesitated. He had hoped to avoid broaching this, but if Ottery was to appreciate the significance of his need, he must speak. “Either he — or some other man for all I know — has had at least designs on her virtue, if not...” He faded out, tugging his breath on the rise of emotion.
The lawyer got up from his chair, exhibiting a good deal of consternation. “My lord, you are not suggesting—?”
“Ottery, I do not know! Something occurred of that nature. You are the only person I could trust with such a confidence.”
“Who was the guardian?” said his lawyer, suddenly brisk.
“I believe the husband of one of her mother’s cousins.”
“Then it behoves me, I think, to try to find him, assuming he is not dead.” There was a brief silence. Then Ottery came around the desk, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you certain, my lord, that you cannot find a way through the impasse you have described? I am of the opinion the results would be happier if you pursued the question with your wife.”
“No doubt. But that road is, I fear, closed to me.”
“It will not help your understanding with her if she discovers you have set me to this task.”
“I will deal with that when it comes, if I have to.” What other choice had he? Battle was fairly joined with Rosina, and nothing would serve him but this.
The emporium outside which her husband had set Rosina down was not by any means of the first stare. It was hardly, he had pointed out, to be expected in a town like Banbury. Rosina had made no comment until she’d heard thatNadinehad been recommended by Mr Ottery.
“Mrs Ottery, he tells me, has taken her custom here, for the woman has the Parisian touch.”
The instant pity caused Rosina to forget to be stiff. “Is she one of those poor creatures who has escaped from the Terror?”
“I dare say.” His tone was warmer than it had been. “She has not been here much above two years, I gather, and I must suppose that not all French seamstresses can be accommodated in London.”
However that might be, on entering the portals ofNadine, Rosina felt herself to have been transported to paradise. Never had she seen such a collection of delightful gowns arrayed one by one upon the counter as samples for her inspection. She had little experience. She had only been previously to any shop of the kind as a messenger for Louise. Not since Mama’s time had she gone to a modiste to buy anything for herself, and then she had been so young that only the most demure of gowns had been permitted.
Her reception, when she announced herself to be Lady Raith, was gratifying. Taking her cue from her spouse’s words, and not wishing to appear gauche, she said that she had been recommended by Mrs Ottery.Madamehad at once been sent for by the assistant, and Rosina had the honour to be served byNadineherself. The woman was indeed French, but she spoke good English, and there was no difficulty in understanding Rosina’s needs. No hint of disapproval was given of the obviously ancient fashion of the gown she presently had on, the made-over pink chintz which had belonged to Louise.
Rosina was astonished to see, as Nadine held up the sample gowns, that they were almost all made with an astonishingly high waist. She had seen nothing like it, even in the last issues of Louise’s copies of the Ladies’ Magazine, which were admittedly somewhat out of date.
“Ah, but it is the very latest mode, milady,” Nadine assured her, when she questioned this. “It has come from Paris. All themesdamesat London are wearing it.”
No matter the recent upheaval in their land, it seemed the French were yet the dictators of fashion. The gowns were made up in plain, sprigged or spotted muslin, many plain white. The modiste assured her that, as a married woman, she was not obliged to wear white, and might with propriety even wear silk.
Rosina was at first overwhelmed, but the lure of new clothes, and those uncommonly á la mode, proved too great. Forgetting her quarrel with Raith for a space, she tried on several of the ready made-up gowns and pirouetted about before a long mirror, in a state of delightful enchantment, accompanied by Nadine’s commentary.
