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Authors: Catherine Lloyd

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“I hadn't noticed myself.”
“That's because she values your good opinion and would hesitate to offend you.”
“And perhaps sees you as a rival for your father's affections?” Major Kurland patted her hand and placed it on his sleeve. “Mayhap she is jealous of you?”
“I suppose that could be it, but—” Lucy stopped speaking as the major drew her toward the group clustered around the fire. Voices were raised, and there appeared to be some kind of argument in progress between a sweetly smiling Mrs. Chingford and Mr. Stanford's sister.
“That is untrue, Mrs. Chingford.” Miss Stanford rose to her feet. “Such gossip should not be repeated—especially now, when my brother is about to marry again.”
“ I do beg your pardon, my dear.” Mrs. Chingford fluttered her fan. “I didn't realize that my silly little remark would upset you.” She glanced over at Sophia, who was frowning. “And to you, Mrs. Giffin, I do apologize. I
assumed
Mr. Stanford would have
mentioned
the rumors surrounding his wife's premature death.”
Major Kurland cleared his throat. “I'm sure everyone will forgive you, Mrs. Chingford. Now, perhaps you might like to take advantage of the sunshine and enjoy a tour of my new garden?”
As the other ladies rose like a flock of birds to accept the major's invitation, Lucy disengaged herself from Major Kurland and went over to where Sophia remained sitting by the fire, her gloved hands clasped tightly in her lap. Lucy sat next to her and lowered her voice.
“Don't listen to Mrs. Chingford, Sophia. She just has to meddle in everything. I'm sure there is no truth in what she said.”
Sophia gave a tremulous smile. “I must admit, she did sound rather convincing.”
“Then ask Mr. Stanford. I'm sure he will tell you everything you need to know. Where is he?”
“I believe he is settling his children in the nursery. Perhaps I should go up and . . . speak to him.”
Lucy squeezed Sophia's hand. “I would. I'm convinced there is nothing to worry about at all.”
“Then why spread such malicious rumors?”
“Sophia, some people just can't resist stirring the pot like the witches in
Macbeth.
Mrs. Chingford appears to be one of them. Go and find Mr. Stanford.”
Sophia rose and, with a brisk nod, headed for the main staircase. Lucy followed her out more slowly and took the more convenient servants' corridor, which led directly out to the side of the house and the gardens. The stone-flagged and timbered passageway was part of the original Tudor mansion and was quite dark in some places. Ahead of her, Lucy heard the murmur of voices and instinctively slowed her step.
“Don't be a fool.”
Lucy slowed down even further as she recognized Mrs. Chingford's voice.
“I hate you, Mother. I hate the way you treat people, and I wish you were dead.”
Was that Penelope speaking? Lucy frowned. No, it was Dorothea Chingford, the younger daughter.
“You silly little girl, with your silly little
tendre
for Mr. Stanford. Do you think you ever stood a chance with him? He never even noticed your existence! You should be pleased that I am exposing him for the murderer he surely is.”
“That's
completely
untrue, Mother. He's—” The sound of a slap echoed down the hall, and Dorothea choked back a cry.
“He's not interested in you. Stop defending him. It makes you look even more pathetic than you normally are.” Mrs. Chingford's voice was harsh. “Get along with you. We need to join the others in the garden.”
Lucy stayed where she was until the mother and daughter reached the end of the corridor and went out of the door. What a truly detestable woman. For the first time in her life, Lucy actually felt sorry for the Chingford sisters. It seemed their mother enjoyed spreading rumor and innuendo like some scandalous weekly broadsheet. Raising her chin, she made her way out to the garden. It was up to her to make sure her father didn't succumb to Mrs. Chingford's charms.
Robert watched as his guests strolled around his newly restored herb garden, and did his best to be cordial and answer questions. Poor Mrs. Chingford seemed to have a knack for saying the wrong thing. She had attached herself to him and now promenaded at his side, her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow.
“I knew you would understand my position, Major, because you are quite a blunt man yourself, aren't you?” She sighed. “Women are not allowed to be honest. It is seen as being cold and callous toward one's own sex. I am treated quite dreadfully.”
“If you say so, ma'am.” Robert looked desperately back at the house, but there was no sign of Thomas or Miss Harrington coming to rescue him. “Would you care to sit and admire the view? It is quite remarkable from here.”
To his relief, he spotted Thomas approaching, with a slight figure dressed in stark black on his arm. He raised his hand and beckoned his land agent to approach.
“There you are, Thomas.”
“Major Kurland. May I present Mrs. Emily Fairfax?”
Robert took the lady's gloved hand and bowed over it. “A pleasure, Mrs. Fairfax. I do hope you enjoy your stay.”
The widow raised her black veil, and Robert was treated to the sight of a far more beautiful and younger woman than he had anticipated. She looked not much older than he was. He reminded himself that she was the second wife of Thomas's father.
“Major Kurland, it is so kind of you to receive me when Thomas tells me that you are in the midst of preparations for a wedding. I can assure you that I will keep out of the way.”
She had a breathy little voice that was hard to hear. “Do whatever you are comfortable with, Mrs. Fairfax. Are you familiar with this part of the country? There are some quaint towns and villages to explore if you feel like venturing farther afield.”
“I am quite familiar with the area, Major. I grew up in the neighboring county of Essex before I moved up north to marry my beloved Mr. Fairfax.” Her lip trembled.
Robert bowed. “My condolences on your loss, ma'am.”
“Thank you.” She raised eyes full of tears to his. “I loved my husband very much.”
Beside him, Mrs. Chingford gave a delicate snort. “From all accounts, Mrs. Fairfax, your husband drank too much. It's a shame you didn't love him enough to prevent
that
.”
Mrs. Fairfax gave a tiny gasp and pressed a black lace handkerchief to her lips. Thomas stepped between her and Mrs. Chingford and placed his stepmother's hand on his arm.
“I'll take Mrs. Fairfax up to her room, Major,” he said.
“Thank you.” Robert waited until the pair was out of sight before turning back to Mrs. Chingford, who was staring after the couple, her expression intent. “May I help you with something, ma'am?”
She finally tore her gaze away and looked at Robert. “That girl looks familiar.”
“Are you referring to Mrs. Fairfax?”
“Is that what she calls herself now?” Mrs. Chingford sniffed. “I must try to remember where I have seen her before.” Her smile returned, and she looked up at him. “Never mind that, Major. I am so glad we had this chance to reconnect after my daughter's woeful decision to end your betrothal. I have to tell you, sir, I was most displeased with her.”
Robert inclined his head an inch. “It was for the best, Mrs. Chingford, and it was a mutual decision. We have both changed considerably in the past five years. We were no longer suited. It was very brave of Miss Chingford to realize that.”
“I agree it would have been awful for her to be married to a cripple who has to remain hidden in the countryside.” She gave him a pitying smile and patted his arm. “But we don't always get what we wish for in life, do we, Major?”
He took that direct hit without flinching. “Indeed, ma'am. I'd rather not
be
a cripple, but I've had to come to terms with it.”
She prodded him with her fan. “Good Lord, Major, there's no need to poker up. I was speaking
metaphorically,
of course.”
Robert bowed. “Of course.” He spotted Miss Harrington moving purposefully toward him. “Will you excuse me?”
He walked away before Mrs. Chingford gave her permission, but she didn't pursue him. It seemed that Miss Harrington was correct. Mrs. Chingford clearly believed that killing with kindness was an acceptable way to behave. From all accounts, on her first visit to his house she'd managed to upset at least three people, if not more.
He bowed and took Miss Harrington's elbow in a firm grip and drew her away from the rest of his guests.
“Your Mrs. Chingford has a knack for upsetting people, doesn't she?”
Her gaze sharpened. “What did she say to you?”
“Nothing that bears repeating, but I think you are right to be wary of her.”
“She certainly upset Sophia. Were there really rumors that Mr. Stanford did something to cause his wife's death?”
Robert hesitated. “There was some . . . gossip at the time, but I can assure you that Andrew did nothing wrong. His wife's mind never fully recovered from the birth of their second child. She became very withdrawn and unlike herself. Andrew tried everything to help her, but nothing seemed to work.” He lowered his voice. “She took her own life. That isn't widely known. I wonder how Mrs. Chingford came to hear about the problems within that marriage.”
“She is the kind of woman who is attracted to gossip like a bee to pollen.” Miss Harrington shivered. “And the thing is, her gossip and innuendo always has that element of truth to it that makes it very hard to ignore.”
“I'll tell Andrew to be on his guard.”
She raised her chin to look directly up at him. “And tell him to be honest with Sophia. She deserves to know the truth.”
“I agree.” He smiled at her, and she immediately looked away. “Cheer up, Miss Harrington. In a few days the wedding will be over, and we can all return to a more peaceful existence.”
“I sincerely hope so, sir.” Miss Harrington cast a look over her shoulder at Mrs. Chingford. “Because I have to admit that my store of Christian charity is running rather low.”
Chapter 3
L
ucy accepted Major Kurland's arm and followed the now married couple back down the aisle, toward the open church doors. The major wore the full dress uniform of the Prince of Wales 10th Hussars and looked very well in it. He was still using his cane to aid his walking but had improved his gait remarkably. She'd chosen to wear one of her London gowns and felt almost equal to his magnificence.
“Thank goodness that's over,” he murmured as they came out into the sunlight. “Weddings give me the shivers.”
“So I've noticed, Major.” Lucy kept her gaze on the bride, who was smiling up at her bridegroom. She wore a cream gown with Brussels lace at the neck and on the sleeves and as a trim on the hem. “But Mr. Stanford and Sophia look remarkably happy about the whole affair.”
“They do. It almost makes one believe in love, doesn't it?”
She looked up into his face, but he didn't appear to be making a joke. “I believe in love. My parents loved each other very much.”
“So did mine.” His smile was fond. “My father married out of his class, and he didn't care what anyone thought of him. At the time he had no idea my mother was the heiress of a brewer and would bring him a dowry equal to a king's ransom.”
“Then he was a very lucky man.”
Major Kurland chuckled. “Indeed. Love and money. Who could ask for more?”
She found herself smiling back at him and then hastily re-collected herself. “I must go and assist Sophia with her gown.”
“And I should help Andrew.” He touched the brim of his hat. “A pleasure, Miss Harrington.”
She curtsied and watched him make his slow way over to the carriage to speak to the coachman. The wedding breakfast was being held at Kurland Hall, so most of the guests would be able to walk from the church to the manor house without much difficulty.
Reaching Sophia, she smiled and took her hands. “I'm so happy for you, my dearest friend.”
“Thank you.” Sophia kissed her cheek. “I hope Charlie understands.” She searched Lucy's face, her voice suddenly uncertain. “He would want me to be happy, wouldn't he?”
“I'm quite certain he would approve of Mr. Stanford.”
Sophia exhaled. “Thank you. Now, will you come in the carriage with Mama, the children, and me? They are rather overexcited, and I'm afraid they won't sit still.”
“Of course I will.” Lucy bent to gather up Sophia's train. “Let me help you ascend without treading on your hem.”
Anna had arrived back from London for the wedding, and Lucy had spent the previous evening unburdening herself of her growing dislike for Mrs. Chingford and detailing all the people who had been offended by their unwelcome guest so far. Anna had added a few stories of her own about Mrs. Chingford's behavior in London, and the sisters had agreed to try to be nicer to Penelope and Dorothea, who obviously had a lot to bear.
As the carriage swept out of the church gates, Lucy caught a glimpse of Mrs. Chingford walking with her father. Miss Chingford followed along behind, in earnest conversation with George Culpepper, the new curate. Dorothea brought up the rear, a scowl on her face. She reminded Lucy of Anthony at that age, but her efforts to befriend the girl had so far been in vain.
Ahead of them lay Kurland Hall and the rest of the wedding celebrations to get through. Squaring her shoulders, Lucy fixed her gaze on the diamond-paned windows of the long gallery and resolved to do her best to give her friends the most splendid and trouble-free wedding day she could contrive.
 
After the celebratory breakfast, Major Kurland gave a surprisingly witty speech and sat down to wide applause. The groom stood to thank him and to toast his new wife and her maids of honor. Lucy allowed herself a second glass of wine and smiled benevolently around her. Thomas Fairfax had done an excellent job preparing the manor for the wedding and had consulted Lucy on several occasions as to exactly how things should be done. She liked him very much, although the appearance of his former employer dressed in black at the wedding seemed rather inappropriate, but she supposed he could hardly turn her away.
Her father rose to his feet and cleared his throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Stanford, Sir Robert, Lord and Lady Teasdale, and fellow guests, may I have your attention for one moment?”
Lucy slowly put her glass back on the table and studied her father, who was looking remarkably pleased with himself.
“Firstly, I would like to wish the newly married couple a long and prosperous life together.” He raised his glass to the Stanfords. “And secondly, it is a well-known fact that one wedding leads to another.” His smile became smug. “Which is why I am delighted to tell you that Mrs. Maria Chingford has consented to become my wife.”
Lucy's horrified gaze locked with that of Miss Chingford, whose mouth was open, as if she was ready to shout the denial that crowded Lucy's throat.
“No!” Dorothea leapt to her feet, her fists clenched and her eyes blazing attrition. “You cannot mean this!”
Luckily for Dorothea, the roar of surprise and clapping almost drowned out her words. Lucy saw her spin around, her hand pressed to her mouth, and run out of the room. Miss Chingford went after her sister, leaving Lucy and Anna staring at each other in consternation. Anna slipped into the seat beside Lucy and leaned close.
“They do say weddings beget other weddings. If this one comes to pass, I reckon you and I will both have to follow suit simply to avoid living at the rectory.”
A little while later, Lucy managed to corner her father in the drawing room while he enjoyed another glass of wine and happily accepted the felicitations of his fellow guests, as though he himself were the bridegroom of the hour.
“Father, why didn't you tell me about your intention to marry Mrs. Chingford?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Because not everything is your concern, Lucy.”
“Surely I am allowed to have an interest in who replaces my mother.”
“Your mother is irreplaceable, you know that.” He hesitated. “I've spent the past eight years alone. I think I deserve the chance to find another to share my life with, don't you?”
“But Mrs. Chingford—”
“Has been widowed like me, with children who still need her. What better for both families than to combine so that we can offer all our children the benefit of our experience?”
“But she—”
Her father held up his finger. “Lucy, please do not spoil this. I know you must be jealous that my affections have been bestowed on another, but trust that I will not allow it to have any bearing on my fondness for you. Maria has recently pointed out how very
possessive
you can be of me, and I fear she is right. You will come to love your new mama and will gladly cede your authority to her. I am quite sure of it.”
Lucy opened her mouth to argue and then closed it again. He did deserve some happiness in his life. “If you say so, Father.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “If this truly makes you happy, then I am most pleased for you.”
“Thank you, my dear.” He patted her shoulder. “I knew I could rely on your good sense.”
Lucy turned away and headed back toward the main hall, where she could see Sophia about to ascend the stairs to change before she left on her honeymoon. There was no point in remonstrating with her father. When he made his mind up to do something, he was impossible. She supposed it behooved her to go and congratulate her future step mama....
Mrs. Chingford was also in the hall and appeared to be in conversation with the widowed Mrs. Fairfax. There was still no sign of Dorothea and Miss Chingford, which wasn't surprising. Despite her reservations about the Chingford sisters, Lucy was fairly certain they would agree to form an alliance with the Harringtons to prevent the unfortunate marriage ever taking place—although quite
how
they would stop it, Lucy wasn't yet sure.
A light touch on her elbow drew her attention to Mr. Fairfax at her side. He lowered his voice.
“I was somewhat surprised to hear that the rector was intending to marry again.”
Lucy grimaced. She had grown to know him quite well during the weeks organizing the wedding and had found nothing in his character to dislike.
“I had no idea, either, Mr. Fairfax.”
“I should imagine it would make things rather difficult for you. You have my sympathy. I know how it feels to be forced out of one's home.” He placed her hand on his sleeve. “My stepmother is beckoning to me. Shall we approach and release her from Mrs. Chingford's curiosity?”
“I'm sure she would appreciate it. I have never met a woman who enjoys poking her nose in other people's business as much as Mrs. Chingford.” She glanced up at Mr. Fairfax as she spoke to find his frowning gaze fixed on Mrs. Fairfax. “She seems to ferret out all kinds of secrets and then inadvertently lets them slip at the most inopportune of moments.” Lucy felt herself blush. “Forgive me. That was most unchristian of me to besmirch the reputation of another.”
“You are forgiven, Miss Harrington. I cannot disagree with you. I am just wondering why she is talking to Mrs. Fairfax. I wasn't even aware that they were acquainted.”
“Mrs. Chingford mentioned that she thought she had met Mrs. Fairfax before she was married, and was determined to remember when that was. Perhaps she has worked it out and is sharing the memory.”
“I doubt they have many friends in common. From what I know, Mrs. Fairfax comes from a modest, hardworking family who would not have moved in the same social circles as Mrs. Chingford.”
“And yet they seem to be conversing quite animatedly,” Lucy observed. “Does Mrs. Fairfax wish you to return and manage her estates?”
He sighed. “She has suggested it. I am not sure what I should do. She didn't make me feel welcome when my father was alive. I'm not sure if I wish to be used and then discarded again when it suits her.”
“Then stay here. Major Kurland would be delighted to keep you.”
His rare smile flashed out, and he bowed. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Miss Harrington. I must admit that I am enjoying working with the major. His plans for the estate are all encompassing and excellently thought out.”
“Major Kurland is a man of many talents,” Lucy said diplomatically. “Mrs. Fairfax has finished her conversation and is searching for you. I must go and offer Mrs. Chingford my felicitations.”
Mr. Fairfax took her hand and kissed it. “You are a brave woman, Miss Harrington, but then I would have expected nothing less of you.”
From the heat on her cheeks, Lucy assumed she must be blushing and hastily disengaged her hand. She smiled as Mrs. Fairfax came toward them.
“Good afternoon, ma'am. Are you enjoying the wedding?”
“It reminds me rather too much of my own, Miss Harrington.” A black lace handkerchief appeared and was applied to the beautiful widow's tear-filled eyes. Lucy fought back a spurt of irritation. If the widow was so affected, why had she decided to insert herself into the wedding party at all? “I miss my husband very much.”
Mr. Fairfax patted the widow's gloved hand. “I'm sure you would like to retire to your room now, wouldn't you? I shall escort you upstairs.” He bowed. “Your servant, Miss Harrington.”
Lucy watched them leave, the widow leaning heavily on her previously despised husband's bastard's arm. Stiffening her spine, she turned back to Mrs. Chingford, only to see that Miss Stanford had got in before her and was having a somewhat heated discussion with her smiling companion.
It seemed that even in her moment of triumph Mrs. Chingford couldn't stop herself from getting into an argument. And yet listening to her talk, one would assume that she was the one who was being wounded or attacked by unfeeling people. Miss Stanford was beginning to raise her voice, and the people around her had started to notice. Lucy hurried over, determined that nothing else would disturb the happiness of Sophia and Mr. Stanford's wedding.
“Miss Stanford.” Lucy insinuated herself between the two women and caught Miss Stanford's eye. “Your new sister was asking if you would accompany her upstairs to change.”
For a second, Miss Stanford hesitated, and then she poked her finger in Mrs. Chingford's face. “You are an abominable woman. One day you will go too far, and believe me, no one will rejoice at your demise more than me.”
Mrs. Chingford gasped and placed a quivering hand on her bosom. “Such venom, Miss Stanford. How could you be so unkind?”
“Because I dislike you intensely, and I hope never to see you again.” Miss Stanford turned on her heel and nodded at Lucy. “I would love to aid Sophia.”
“She is in the great hall. Please tell her I will join you all very shortly.”
“Indeed.”
Miss Stanford stalked off, leaving Lucy with Mrs. Chingford, who sighed.
“Some women cannot bear to hear a word said against their menfolk, can they?”
“One might consider such loyalty admirable.”
“Not if it is misplaced, Miss Harrington.” Mrs. Chingford leaned close. “There are several ladies here today who need to hear the
truth
, and to be reminded of their station in life. It is unfortunate that sometimes I have to be honest, but that is my way.”
“Perhaps honesty should be tempered with mercy and tact, ma'am.”
“Oh, I don't think so.” Mrs. Chingford used her fan. “You, for instance. The entire village is aware that you are desperate to wed Major Kurland. Subtle hints don't seem to work on you, so perhaps as your future stepmama, I should be blunt. He will never marry you. If he wasn't happy with my daughter, he'll never settle for someone of your social standing now that he's a baronet.”
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