Page 19 of The Hollow of Fear
Almost as soon as the ladies had risen from dinner and removed to the drawing room, Lady Somersby accosted her.
“You have received my sister’s letter, I presume, Miss Holmes?”
Livia answered stiffly that she had. “I have not had time to reply. Much of yesterday was spent traveling. And much of today involved the relocation to Stern Hollow.”
Lady Somersby waved a hand. “We weren’t anticipating any useful intelligence from your direction, in any case. It was more kindness on our part, to let you know that your sister had, at least as of July, been getting on quite well, all things considered.”
Livia managed not to grind her teeth before she said, “How thoughtful of you, my lady.”
“Indeed, we do think of everything.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “But this does complicate matters, do you not think?”
Oh, when did you realize? Before or after you decided to tell everyone something they didn’t need to know in the first place?
Livia held on to her tongue, though she was sure her smile must have degenerated to a rictus. “Is that so?”
“Oh, rather. Think about it, Miss Holmes. You know of Lady Ingram’s abrupt departure at the end of the Season, I’m sure?”
“I’ve heard it mentioned.”
“Word was that her health took a tumble. My sister and I always regarded that with a grain of salt—or a pillar as large as the one Lot’s wife turned into, if you will. We were at the ball that night. She did not look out of sorts at all. A bit impatient for her guests to leave, perhaps, but in no worse physical condition than most other people near the end of a Season.
“And then, all of a sudden, she was so badly off that she had to be shipped to Switzerland. How likely is that, I ask you?”
Livia had heard Lady Somersby ask that question before, at a different house party to which the Holmeses had been invited. Those were happier times—Lady Somersby hadn’t implied that anyone except Lady Ingram herself had been involved in the decision to decamp for the Alps.
“Sometimes things deteriorate with catastrophic speed.”
“I’m sure they do. But if she was in a terrible way, what was wrong with English physicians? They exist in great abundance in London, and our schools of medicine are not in the habit of producing quacks. Not to mention, why a sanatorium? It is not a place for stowing the desperately ill. And last I inquired, she wasn’t suffering from polio, asthma, tuberculosis, or any other chronic disease for which a sanatorium offers suitable treatments.”
Livia saw where this was going. “Everybody knows about her bad back,” she retorted, her voice acquiring a nervous squeak. “And Switzerland has thermal springs for rheumatism.”
“No one needs to disappear overnight to soak in hot springs,” Lady Somersby pointed out. “She could have taken proper leave proper of her friends and acquaintances.”
“Perhaps she didn’t wish to. Perhaps she was fed up with Society and her back hurt and she just wanted to be away. This was your conjecture earlier, remember?”
Lady Somersby waved her hand again, brushing away her own erstwhile theory as if it were a wasp at a picnic. “Or perhaps she learned about her husband’s involvement with your sister and was so upset that she simply had to run out.”
Livia’s grip on her fan tightened—would that she could whack Lady Somersby and get away with it. “That is farfetched, my lady. First, Lord Ingram and my sister are friends of long standing. Second, if Lady Ingram knew her husband at all, she would know that he would not abandon a friend in need. And third, let’s suppose she assumed the worst, that Lord Ingram wasn’t only helping my sister but keeping her, how would that make him any different from any other man in Society? Even if they weren’t severely estranged, how many women have you known to become upset enough over a husband’s indiscretions to leavechildrenbehind?”
“Well,” said Lady Somersby slowly, “thereissense in what you said. I concede that particular theory might be flawed. But it is highly odd, isn’t it, the entire situation with our host and his absent wife?”
“Whatever their situation is, ma’am, I can assure you that it has nothing to do with my sister.”
Lady Somersby soon moved on. Livia slumped into a chair, feeling as if she’d wrestled a bear. If only she had any confidence that she had been the winner of the contest—or at least a survivor.
“Miss,the carriage is ready to take you to the village,” said the butler to Livia as she left the breakfast parlor the next morning.
Liviahadbeen thinking, rather intensely, of getting away from Stern Hollow for a bit. She still loved her room, of course, and she longed to explore the grounds. But the current atmosphere, with the gossip ladies in residence and all the other guests whipped into a frenzy of curiosity, was hardly conducive to her peace of mind.
“I haven’t ordered a carriage.”
Her luck was such that if she didn’t point this out but tried to take advantage of the butler’s mistake, he would realize his error just as she was about to climb into the carriage, and she would be left on the front steps looking like the fool she was.
“His lordship ordered it for you, Miss Holmes.”
Livia had to swallow past a lump in her throat—she was not accustomed to being looked after so thoroughly. “Do please thank his lordship for me. Tell him I’m beyond grateful.”
As it turned out he was there in front of the house when she arrived. Her smile faltered, however, when she noticed his bloodshot eyes—it was as if he hadn’t slept at all.
