“Have you met my mother, Lady Ingleby?”
Ginny laughed, feeling a sudden camaraderie with her. “Ah. I would venture to say she rivals Lady Wimbley.”
“Oh, yes. My mother is bent on parading me before every peer of the realm as if I am still a debutante just out of the schoolroom, though I was married for nigh on three years. I imagine I appreciate my independence as greatly as you, but ’tis clear Lord Brock is over the moon for you.”
Ginny desperately wished to believe her. “Do you really think so?”
Maeve took her hand and squeezed. “I do indeed.”
Lorelei looked around. “It’s getting dark. It appears the men are not inclined to stop for the night.”
“Oh, dear. The undertakers will charge them double,” Ginny said.
Again, laughter rippled through the atmosphere.
“I have a question regarding Lady Harlowe,” Maeve said.
Answering questions about Corinne was up to Lorelei, and Ginny was surprised to see her friend nod.
“If she was the first Lady Maudsley’s daughter, where wasshehidden? No one had a clue Maudsley had a child with his first wife.” She paused, seeming to consider her next words. “I ask because I happened to be a schoolmate of Corinne’s at Miss Greely’s School of Comportment though we weren’t close. No one knew much of her background.”
“Hannah’s maid at the time was Rowena Hollerfield,” Lorelei said with an ounce of hesitation.
Maeve’s swallow was audible. “Miss Hollerfield, thecourtesan?”
“The very same.” Lorelei’s chin had lifted. “From what we could gather, in a fit of fury, Maudsley killed Hannah when he learned she’d had a female child. Miss Hollerfield absconded with the child and raised her as her sister. It was quite remarkable, really.”
“It is indeed,” Maeve said softly. “Corinne was a very lucky girl to have had you in her court.”
“Exactly my sentiments,” Ginny said.
The carriage slowed, and the door opened. Kimpton poked his head in. “We’re directing the hearse to the chapel. Andrews will take you on to the house,” he told Lorelei.
Twenty-Seven
T
here wasn’t much time to notify the servants of our arrival,” Lorelei said when they pulled up to a dark house. But the front door opened as they descended the carriage. “Oh, Quinn. Please let Mrs. Metzger know we shall need several chambers made up. Including the nursery.”
Ginny hurried to the second carriage, anxious to see how the girls had managed with Nathan. Miss Lambert and the maids appeared, then Celia, who said, “Nathan is sleeping, Mama. I doubt he will wake the rest of the night. We kept him entertained with songs. He only cried twice.” She ran for the front door.
“Irene?”
“I’m coming, Mama. Can you take him? He is quite worn out.”
“Of course.” Ginny took the sleeping one-year-old. He never stirred. “He’s eaten?”
“Yes. Our basket is depleted.” Irene stepped down and shook out her wrinkled pinafore. “Did you eat?”
“Not much,” Ginny admitted. “We were busy talking. I wouldn’t mind a fortifying cup of tea.” She took Irene’s hand, and they meandered to the portico.
Irene’s gaze took in the two carriages. “Where are the men?”
“They stopped at the chapel in the village. They must make the arrangements for Lady Harlowe.”
“Oh, of course.” The trees billowed in the light wind, and a faint whistle, almost human sounding, claimed the silence. Irene shivered and rubbed her arms. “It’s quite unnerving, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I feel like I hear words I can’t comprehend,” Ginny answered.
