Bound by Honor

Chapter 17

A heavyset woman in a gauzy dress almost pulled the man whose arm

provided inadequate support for her ample figure. His inconsequential

stature was further diminished by the plumes bobbing in all directions from

his wife’s elaborate headdress.

“Let me warn you that Mrs. Fogerhill never stops talking. You may follow

her husband’s example and let her go on uninterrupted. It is an art he

perfected years ago.”

“Thank you for the warning,” she sputtered, suppressing laughter.

Half an hour later, when the duty of greeting the guests seemed done and

they were ready to follow everyone to the lawn, two more persons arrived.

An elderly gentleman approached slowly, supporting himself on two canes.

His strained features suggested a very recent and probably very temporary

victory over the pernicious gout. His companion was a young woman with

vibrant, coppery locks peeking from under her bonnet. The mossy-green

dress in the first stare of fashion offset the hair’s fiery quality quite

formidably.

“Mr. Wilkinson was my father’s friend,” Sir Percival explained before the

pair reached them. “His son, Thomas, is now traveling on the Continent.

This is his daughter, Lady Marsden. She returned to Pythe Park after her

husband died four years ago.”

“She is a widow?” Letitia glanced at him, surprised.

“She married Marsden at seventeen. He was sixty. Poor chap enjoyed his

marital bliss for only four years,” Sir Percival explained, the corner of his

mouth quirking up enticingly again.

“You will forgive me, my dear Lady Letitia, for not taking your hand,” Mr.

Wilkinson said once he reached them. “I am afraid to let go of either of my

canes, you see. But I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Percy, my

dear boy, you deserve heartfelt congratulations. Nothing can delight me

more than seeing you happily settled.”

Lady Marsden silently awaited her turn while she scrutinized Letitia’s hair

and dress. But now she extended both hands to Sir Percival and rose on

her tiptoes to kiss his cheeks.

“You old liar,” she accused him, but it was done with an indulgent smile.

Letitia found her greeting annoyingly too familiar. “You never mentioned

your matrimonial plans, even to your dearest friends.”

“I beg your pardon. It was not intentional,” Sir Percival replied and

removed his hands from hers, turning to Letitia. “Allow me to introduce

Etheldred, Lady Marsden, my dear. Ethel, this is my wife, Lady Letitia

Hanbury.”

Ethel?

Lady Marsden turned to her at last. Her face was full of curiosity, and a

broad smile brought two dimples to her cheeks.

“What a pleasure to meet you, Lady Letitia,” she murmured, never

stopping her perusal of Letitia’s face, then grinned. “Oh, I can already tell

we will get on together famously.”

Mr. Wilkinson grunted and shifted his weight.

“Ethel, my dear,” he exhaled harshly. “Be so good as to take me inside. I

beg your pardon, Lady Letitia. I fear my canes will not do the job much

longer.”

“Of course, Father.” Lady Marsden glanced at him, her forehead

momentarily creased with worry, before focusing on Sir Percival again.

Then she graced Letitia with a brilliant smile. “I am so very happy at the

prospect of forming a new friendship.”

A couple of hours later, Lady Marsden maneuvered to secure Letitia’s

company all for herself.

“At last, I can indulge in the pleasure of conversing with Percy’s beautiful

bride.” She looped her arm through Letitia’s as they strolled toward the

gardens. “I wanted to tell you myself how sorry I was for missing your

wedding, my dear. I was in Norwich for a few days while Percy had the

audacity to be at the altar without giving anyone the least warning. How

naughty of him to keep his plans secret.”

Percy? The familiarity with which Lady Marsden referred to her husband

grated unexpectedly, but they’d known each other since childhood. After

seven days of marriage, Letitia still thought of him as Sir Percival.

“I must confess I feel offended that he never mentioned you to one of his

closest friends,” Lady Marsden continued. “And, please, do call me Ethel.”

“Then you must call me by my given name as well,” Letitia replied.

Lady Marsden turned toward her, amusement in her gaze. She wrinkled

her nose in a conspiratorial smile. “Percy’s marriage was such a surprise,

you know, particularly after he made it clear that he was not interested in

matrimony, any more than he was in taking up embroidery. That is, until

one day, about a week ago, when we all knew him a single man after

breakfast and found him a married one before dinner. But one glance at

you, my dear, suffices to explain why he acted so hastily and on the sly. Or

why he lost his head so completely. He must admire you ardently.”

Admire her? Wasn’t it evident that he did not?

“I fear you exaggerate.” It was probably best to dispel Lady Marsden’s

conclusion. “All there is to it is an eligible match on both sides.”

Lady Marsden’s gaze became more intense. The smile disappeared from

her face. “I am sorry to hear it. But then, it is not very surprising. Poor

Percy, he was so devastated by Sarah’s death. I must confess, we feared

for his life after it happened. He loved her to distraction, you know,

worshipped the ground she walked on. Although I fear you will dislike me

for saying this, I am rather convinced he still harbors some feelings for

her.” She sighed deeply. “Poor Percy,” she repeated. “How we all wish him

happiness.”

This unexpected effusion took Letitia so much by surprise that she missed

a step. To cover her reaction, she stopped and turned to face Ethel.

“Why did Sarah die?” she asked.

Lady Marsden stiffened a little, then cast a quick glance around, as if

afraid that someone might overhear them.

“No one really knows why.” She leaned closer to Letitia and kept her voice

low. “To be sure, she was often unwell for long periods of time, but not that

summer. To the contrary, I never saw her in better spirits. Most ladies

speculated she was carrying, but neither Sarah nor Percy said a word

about it. And I would have known, as her closest friend. Her sudden and

unexpected death was a terrible surprise to us all. They had been married

for six years. For months, Percy was a shadow of the man he had once

been. And poor dear Sarah. She was only five and twenty.”

Ethel sighed deeply while her gaze darted around in quick scrutiny of their

immediate surroundings. Apparently satisfied that no one could hear them,

she leaned even closer to Letitia and whispered, “Her death was so

unexpected that you shouldn’t be alarmed if you hear some ugly gossip

about it. It was circulated in the neighborhood that Percy murdered her. No

one will, of course, mention this to your face, but I know a great many

conversations over tea were rife with speculation on the subject.”