Lord Ravensden's Marriage by Anne Herries

Author:Anne Herries [Herries, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

shall invite her to take tea with us the next time we meet.'

'I am sure I shall find friends soon enough,' Olivia said, her blue eyes a little wistful. 'You must

not worry about me, Beatrice.' She smiled and tucked her arm through her sister's. 'We ought to go

down. Our guests will soon be arriving...'

'I cannot imagine why Mr Hartwell thought it a good idea to visit the Marquis in the first place,'

said his wife at table that evening. 'Everyone knows what a dreadful man he is...'

The Reverend gave her a faintly reproachful look. 'I felt it incumbent upon me to make the effort,

my dear. Sywell should make his peace with God before it is too late. As a Christian minister, I

must do my duty as I see it.'

'Very right and proper,' Harry said, not a flicker in his eyes to betray him. 'Tell me, my dear sir,

do you expect the Marquis's demise imminently?'

Beatrice gave him a darkling look. She glanced across the table at her friend Mademoiselle de

Champlain. 'Tell me, Ghislaine, how do things go on at dear Mrs Guarding's school? Have you

any new pupils?'

Ghislaine was an attractive woman in her late twenties, pleasant to look at but not pretty except

for her dark eyes, which were very fine.

'They come and go, as you know, Beatrice,' she said. 'We have several young ladies coming to us

after Christmas, and shall be in need of a new teacher to look after the little ones. Have you

thought any more about returning to us?'

'I have not given it much thought of late,' Beatrice replied. She saw Lord Ravensden's eyes on her.

'As you know, I have considered taking up a position...if Papa could spare me?' She looked at her

father, who was addressing his beef with the dedication of a man who had not eaten such a treat

for a long time.

'What's that, Beatrice?' Mr Roade blinked at her. 'Excellent beef, my dear. You and Nan have

excelled yourselves... visit Mademoiselle Champlain when you like, have her here to stay for

Christmas. Why not? Always pleased to see your friends.' He beamed round the table happily,

apparently lost in his own thoughts.

Beatrice would have turned the subject once again, but Olivia was before her.

'Is it true that the Marquis told you his wife had gone, sir?'

The Reverend Hartwell let his solemn gaze rest on her. A man of forty-odd years, with thinning

hair and brown eyes, he was very aware of his importance in the community. The world was full

of sinners, and he knew his duty. Let it never be said that he had neglected the spiritual welfare of

his parishioners, even one as disreputable as the Marquis of Sywell.

'I do not have to ask where that came from, Miss Olivia. It is unfortunate that Mary Ekins should

have overheard me telling Mrs Hartwell...but the gossip will not be long delayed I fear. It is true

that Lady Sywell does appear to have left her husband. No one has seen her for months...'

'Why would she do that, sir?' Olivia's blue eyes were wide and guileless, her manner that of a

young girl begging for instruction.

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