The Deathly Portent by Elizabeth Bailey

Author:Elizabeth Bailey [Bailey, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group, Inc.
Published: 2012-04-03T04:00:00+00:00

Since it was not incumbent upon her to attend at the graveside, Ottilia left this duty to Francis and waited for the congregation to file out before taking a leisurely look around the church. It was of early date, one of these squat little stone buildings, with arched bays down either side of the nave containing memorials and a few crudely carved figures, plus a charmingly simple rose window on the east wall behind the altar.

Among the commemorative plaques set into the walls, she was interested to discover several village names, in addition to the plethora of departed Ferrensbys. The Pakefields looked to have come down in the world, while Miss Beeleigh’s family were clearly long-term tenants and Mr. Netherburn was seen to be a widower. How convenient for the widow Radlett, if she could manage to snare him.

“You did not fancy the graveside, either, Lady Francis?”

Startled, Ottilia turned to find the woman behind her, as if her thoughts had conjured her. She was correctly attired in black for the occasion, but the unlikely golden curls still rioted under a very fussy bonnet. There was, however, a wary look in her eyes, and Ottilia wondered at it. She gave no sign, merely smiling in a friendly way.

“I cannot feel it is my place to follow the coffin.”

Mrs. Radlett gave a little shiver. “I do so hate the sight of that empty hole. It seems so final somehow.”

“We are fortunate perhaps in being female, in that we are not obliged to attend such affairs if we don’t wish to do so.”

“No, and thank heavens for it. Though Alethea was insistent we should put in an appearance in the church.”

Ottilia noted this peculiarity on Miss Beeleigh’s part with interest. “Indeed? She felt it as a duty?”

“Oh, Alethea must always partake of what is afoot, you must know.” A brittle laugh tinkled out of the widow’s mouth. “She is forever stigmatising me for a gossip, but at least I do not take it upon myself to interfere in the villagers’ lives. Nor to tell them what they should or should not do. She can be very fierce with them.”

Ottilia digested this in silence for a moment. Then she gestured to one of the plaques. “I see that the Beeleighs have been here for a long time. Perhaps Miss Beeleigh cherishes a sense of responsibility on that account?”

“As to that, it may well be so,” said Evelina grudgingly. “If only she would not be so very …” She faded out, looking a trifle guilty.

“Dictatorial?” suggested Ottilia, a hint of mischief in her voice.

The widow sighed out a breath of half laughter. “It is too bad of me to speak ill of her, when she has been so very good to me.”

“My dear Mrs. Radlett, even those we cherish most may on occasion drive us to distraction. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise.”

Evelina fell to nodding, setting her chins in motion. “Very true indeed. Why, only the other day, I declare I could readily

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