Ada couldn’t contain a groan. “I’m afraid to ask.”
In the time she had known Maggie, she had found her to be a loyal friend, but their paths of widowhood differed greatly. Maggie was still in her late twenties, so she was eager to embark on certain paths that could lead to scandal, or even worse, social ruin. Because of her enthusiastic nature, Ada had heard that the council members might be reconsidering her stay at the Manor. It was one of the reasons Ada had volunteered to watch over her, to see if she could curb some of those flirtatious tendencies that were starting to draw notice in the city.
“I placed an advertisement.”
A chill crawled up Ada’s spine. “What sort of advertisement?”
Maggie’s pert nose wrinkled. “See for yourself.” She held out the paper.
Ada took it warily, and after she scanned the few lines printed there, she realized she’d had good reason to be concerned. She could feel the blood recede from her face as she looked back at Maggie. “This is…” She didn’t have the proper words to describe what she was feeling.
“Outrageous. I know.” Maggie giggled as if she was a debutante fresh from the schoolroom.
Ada crumpled the paper in her grasp. “This is not something to be proud of. You make the Manor sound as if it’s some sort of… brothel!” She wagged the wadded up page in front of her with disgust. “This place is meant to be a haven for people like us, and this might have just destroyed the trust that has been built here.” She shook her head. “Dear Heavens, Maggie, what were you thinking? This might cause your membership to be revoked, and I can’t say I would disagree with the decision.”
Maggie’s jaw had gone slack, her mouth dropping open. But then, Ada had never spoken to her like that. She always kept her composure, no matter what, but she’d had enough. This was the last straw in a string of other incidents. “If you don’t want to be here, just sever your ties with the council. There’s no need to drag us all down with you.”
This time, Maggie’s eyes narrowed. With her red hair and blue eyes, she had always been a comely woman. But it was her penchant for deviltry that Ada was growing weary of trying to calm. “I didn’t think it was so wrong to play a fun prank. It will certainly give those old biddies something to talk about with their afternoon tea.” She sniffed. “Besides, it’s not as if I am the only one who thought it was a lark.”
Ada’s mouth thinned into a disapproving line. “No. I have no doubt you are correct on that point. Some of the ladies we have taken on of late have been of questionable character.”
Her friend looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and horror. “Do you hear yourself, Ada? You’re starting to sound like the rest of those dried up prunes who want to let life pass them by. Don’t you want to live?”
“I am quite content as I am,” Ada snapped in return. “If you are not—” She glanced pointedly toward the front door. “You know your way out.”
Ada turned on her heel, promptly ending their conversation. She was afraid if she remained any longer, she would say something that she really didn’t mean. But Maggie had a gift when it came to making selfish decisions. No doubt she had only joined the Wicked Widows because she wanted it to be in truth, but Matron Manor was not a den of iniquity.
She looked down at the crumpled print still in her grasp and released a heavy sigh. But it might very well look that way.
She threw the offending article in a nearby grate, and then she went outside to the gardens to breathe some fresh air and await the downfall of the only thing that had mattered to her in over two years.
“Shh. Easy.” Brandt patted the side of his gelding’s neck as he peered through the rain that was coming down in sheets around him. If he had known he was going to be riding through a downpour in the dark on the way back to London, he would have delayed his journey from the estate. But he had business to attend to that required his urgent presence in town. And he was particularly eager to return.
Then again, if he perished because his horse slipped on the muddy road, he wouldn’t be gaining much of anything. Perhaps he could find some temporary shelter until the worst passed. He glanced around and thought he spied a beacon of hope in the near distance—a light. If there was life on this deserted stretch of road, then that meant there would be someplace he could stay.
He just hoped the people that lived there had mercy in their hearts. If not, he had coin in his pocket, which generally swayed anyone.
Riding in the direction of that wavering light, Brandt was grateful when he finally found himself in front of a large manor house. Huddling in his greatcoat, with rain pouring off his hat, he slipped from the saddle and tied his gelding to a nearby tree.
He walked up the steps of the house, but before he could even knock, the door was flung open from the other side. A slip of a woman stood in the opening with coal black hair and flashing, green eyes. She was holding a pan in her grasp in a threatening manner. “We are not taking any overnight guests!”
He was taken aback for a moment, unsure how she might have known he was looking for shelter. But deciding to act ignorant, he cleared his throat and said, “Pardon the… uh, intrusion, but I was on my way to London and saw the light in the window. I was hoping I could find a place to shelter until the worst of the storm passes.” He reached into his coat and withdrew a small purse. “I will pay you handsomely for any trouble, of course.”
If anything, this made her eyes narrow further, and her jaw clench even tighter. “No amount of money will gain you what you want here, sir. I suggest you get back on your mount and join the rest of the hopefuls who have passed this way tonight in search of amusements that shall not be granted.”
Again, Brandt blinked. But this time, the absurdity of the situation struck him with more than a touch of humor. He started to laugh and found that he couldn’t stop. He could just imagine the sight of men, hoping for an assignation with this lady, and gaining the same proper set down. Obviously, he’d missed something of import, and what a shame that was.
Once he had recovered himself, he put a hand over his heart. “On my honor as a gentleman, I promise that I am not here seeking any sort of amusements or whatever else you might believe. It is truly just as I said. I was returning from my estate to London on business and feared for my safety and that of my horse.” He gestured to where his mount was tied to a tree.
In an instant, her face turned ashen. “Don’t keep him tied there! It’s a thunderstorm!” She rushed past him, as Brandt took a moment to recover his second shock of the night as she hurried to free the horse and began to lead him toward the stables.
Before she had taken two steps, Brandt reached out and took the reins from her. “There’s no point taking him anywhere until you tell me whether or not I can stay.”
She looked torn for a moment, and then she gave a curt nod. “I shall meet you in the kitchens once I change. It wouldn’t do for you to drip all through the house and ruin the upholstery in the parlor.”
His brows lifted at her disdain as she marched back toward the front door. He noted that she had a nicely rounded backside, but given her initial greeting, he knew better than to approach her with any sort of proposition. Something told him she’d had enough of those tonight already.
Ada shut the front door and leaned heavily against the hard wood. She was quickly soaking the foyer from her stroll in the rain, but the way her heart was pounding and the breath leaving her lungs in a rush, she was quite tied in knots. Ever since the accident that took Archie’s life, she had been terrified of thunderstorms. She wouldn’t consider going outside for fear lightning would strike her again. She still recalled the terrifying shock that had traveled the length of her body when it had happened.
