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‘I know. I can’t say I have a great deal of experience of married life...or any, in fact. I ran away from my husband.’
‘Why?’ Nancy’s eyebrows shot up, her expression shifting to one of outrage. ‘What did he do?’
‘Nothing. He never had a chance. I never even got to the wedding breakfast.’
‘You mean you ran away on your wedding day?’
‘Yes.’ She pursed her lips, wondering how to explain. The only way she could think of was to go back to the beginning. ‘The truth is that I am—was—quite wealthy. My mother died when I was a baby and my father a few years later. He was a merchant, dealing in tea mostly, and after he died, his entire fortune came to me.’
‘So you’re an heiress?’ Nancy’s eyes gleamed with excitement. ‘How much of an heiress?’
‘Sixty thousand pounds.’
Nancy’s jaw almost hit the table. ‘Sixty thousand? And you’re here making biscuits for a living?’
‘I like making biscuits. Anyway, my father left me in the care of his brother, my Uncle Benedict, and his wife, Augusta, but neither of them were very pleased about it. All they cared about was the annual payment they received for allowing me a home under their roof. Maybe they’d expected more from my father’s will and they considered the money as their due, because they certainly never went out of their way to earn it. They never liked me.’
‘Why not?’
Beatrix lifted her shoulders. It was a good question, one that she’d asked herself countless times over the years. As a ten-year-old orphan, she’d wondered if it was because she was simply unlovable. Either that or inherently wicked somehow. Only the arrival of the kind-hearted Miss Foster had saved her from a lifetime of despair and self-loathing. Eventually, however, she’d realised that her family’s behaviour had much less to do with her than themselves. Despite following his brother into trade, her uncle had never enjoyed anything close to her father’s success and his wife and children never ceased to remind him about it. The whole house had reeked of bitterness, jealousy and ill will, most of it vented on her.
‘Bel—Beatrix?’ Nancy looked concerned. ‘Was it so bad?’
‘It was...unpleasant.’ She shook her head, reluctant to dwell on the worst of her experiences growing up. ‘My cousins were older than me and I was never accepted into the family.’
‘But why didn’t you just leave and set up your own house? Especially if you had so much money.’
‘Because I didn’t have the money. My father put my whole fortune into trust until I turned twenty-five. Unless I married, of course, but I could only do that with my uncle’s consent. I couldn’t do anything without his consent, not even leave the house.’ She clenched her jaw at the irony. ‘My uncle and aunt didn’t want me, but they were terrified of me running away. After a few years, they even became afraid of my friendship with Miss Foster so they dismissed her and appointed a maid to guard me instead. Then once I turned twenty-two, they decided to find me a husband, one important and aristocratic enough to help my uncle’s business interests, but impoverished enough to need my money.’
‘Eurgh.’ Nancy leaned across the table. ‘Old and smelly?’
‘No, actually, although I’m sure my aunt would have preferred that.’ Beatrix drew her brows together as an image of her stern, raven-haired husband flickered into her mind. ‘Quite handsome really, and only six years older than me.’
‘Cold and cruel?’
‘Cold, perhaps, but not cruel, I think. It was honestly hard to tell. I only met him twice, once when he proposed and then again at our wedding. I’ve barely spoken to him except to say yes and I do.’ She shook her head. ‘I know it sounds ridiculous that I would marry a man I didn’t know, but if I’d refused my uncle, it would have meant another three years living like a prisoner under his roof. Marriage seemed like the only escape. I thought it couldn’t possibly be any worse, especially after...well, something else.’ She dropped her gaze, unwilling to specify what the other thing had been. It was mortifying enough to think about, let alone to tell anyone else. ‘I was upset and confused and it was only after I’d said my marriage vows that I realised I’d made a terrible mistake. We went back to my husband’s house for the wedding breakfast and I went up to my new room to freshen up and then...well, for once there was nobody about, nobody watching me. Before I knew it, I was running down the back stairs and out of the servants’ entrance.’
‘So that’s when you came to Bath?’
‘Not straight away. There was someone else...someone I thought I could go to, only it turned out I was wrong about them. Then I remembered the last address I had for Miss Foster and I came here. You know the rest.’
‘Mmm, I can see why you were afraid to tell the truth.’ Nancy leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest.
‘But I never lied. I told you I wasn’t a criminal and as for hurting anyone, my uncle and aunt only cared about the money and my husband...well, it’s not as if he ever had a chance to care about me, though goodness knows what he must think of me now. He probably hates me for humiliating him so badly.’
‘Sixty thousand pounds probably softens the blow.’ Nancy lifted an eyebrow. ‘Still, if he finds out where you are...’
‘He hasn’t found me yet.’ Beatrix glanced towards the back door as if she half expected a man to appear there at that moment. ‘There was a time, when I first arrived in Bath, that I thought maybe he had tracked me down. I had a funny feeling that someone was following me, but I must have been imagining things and now...’ She paused and bit her lip.
‘Now?’
‘Now I think that I’m safe, but I wonder if I ought to write to him.’
‘What?’ Nancy’s voice was more of a shriek. ‘Why?’
‘Because I want to ask for a divorce.’ Beatrix kept her voice calm. ‘And I think it’s a reasonable request. He won’t want me back as a wife. Running away was scandalous enough, but these past months should have ruined my reputation beyond any repair. I’ve given him more than enough to divorce me with.’
‘Wouldn’t a divorce have to go through Parliament?’
