Chapter Twelve
The servant had let Marion through the door of Langley Hall, despite eyeing her muddy boots and dusty cote. He aged near fifty by the look of him, and had a kindly air, so she had played for pity rather than desire.
The servant had said that the Bailiff was away, and only his wife was at home. This was more than Marion had dared hope for. It had taken no effort to let her voice falter and her eyes moisten. This persuaded him to carry the respects of Marion of Erdington to his mistress, along with an urgent plea for an audience. Hopefully Dionisia de Beresford would prove either polite or curious enough to agree.
Mrs de Beresford entered the hallway in a rich red gown, with pale yellow hair wrought into two horns and covered with a dark net. She was reed-thin and walked as
