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This was said in such an odd manner, Kitty wondered whether Araminta had come upon the notion as she spoke. “And you, Mr. Tunley, are in as good a position as anyone to solicit that information in a manner that would be discreet enough as to not raise his suspicions. You see,” she added quickly, “I’m…very much afraid that the woman in question is a dear friend of mine. I fear Debenham has got it into his head to ruin my friend’s husband by insinuating that his wife has cuckolded him, or at least provided him with an heir who is not his.”
“A friend of yours, Araminta?” Lissa asked.
“So, I’m to ask your husband the name of the woman whose husband he’s blackmailing?” Ralph looked bemused. “And you came here in the dead of night to ask this of me?”
“Because you were so concerned for your friend?” Lissa interjected. “It’s you, isn’t it, Araminta? You’d not be this concerned unless you were in Debenham’s firing line, and unless you had something to hide.” She sighed. “But then, you knew you’d have to divulge that to us before any investigation could actually begin, didn’t you?”
Araminta shook her head. “It’s not me,” she declared. “I have nothing to hide. I gave Debenham a son nine months after we were married. Nine months after the night he tricked me into agreeing to his marriage offer by arranging that my reputation was besmirched at Miss Hoskings’s betrothal ball.” She gave them a challenging look. “Debenham blackened my name, forced me to marry him, and I’ve paid for it every day. If someone else is trying to blacken my name by suggesting to Debenham that his child is anyone else’s, then I need to know what I’m dealing with in order to defend myself. Given that you all know my husband’s character, and t
he vulnerable position I’m in, I’d assume you’d consider my concerns, and my request to you, perfectly reasonable.”
She rose, Ralph poised to see her out as she pulled down her heavy veil.
“My, my,” he murmured as he closed the door and Kitty emerged from behind her curtain. “Your sister has a heavy burden to bear if she’s so afraid of Debenham.”
“Araminta doesn’t deserve pity,” Lissa bristled. “She’s grown up in indolence, cosseted and spoiled by our father—”
“Hush, my love.” Gently Ralph put his finger to her lips. “Araminta did not, I think, enjoy all the benefits I think you assume. Regardless, since her marriage—a marriage, it appears she’d not have chosen willingly—she has been forever under the strain of trying to please an exacting master. I believe I am in a very good position to sympathize with poor Araminta. We both know exactly how exacting Lord Debenham can be.”
Lissa sighed. “I think I’m in a particularly uncharitable mood tonight because we so rarely get an opportunity to be together, and Mrs. Nipkins will be here soon.” She put a restraining hand out toward Kitty, who rose at her words. “See, I have no tact. I’m so glad to see you, Kitty, and I want to comfort you, yet I’ve rebuffed and all but dismissed you. Forgive me.”
She ran a weary hand across her forehead. “My charge, Lucinda, has been taxing my patience, but it’s Lady Julia who has me at my wits’ end. She detained me, all but in hysterics, as I was trying to leave to see Ralph, and poured out her woes over her children whom she says her husband has forbidden her to see. I can’t believe it of Sir Archie. He’s such a mild-mannered gentleman. I think it’s her excuse for remaining under Lord Beecham’s roof. She says she sees herself as a proxy mother-figure to Lucinda, and she is Lucinda’s godmother, but I know Lucinda despises her. Enough of that.” She waved her hand in the air. “Sit down, Kitty, and continue where you left off before Araminta so rudely interrupted you. It has been a strange night.”
Kitty sat slowly, the thought that had been churning in her head from Araminta’s words taking shape.
“Yes. Lady Debenham must also be at her wits’ end if she sought Ralph out…here.”
“The least likely place she’d be recognized, I suppose,” said Ralph. “I doubt she’s ever ventured into any of these rookeries alone in her life before.”
Lissa gave a humorless laugh. “She was happy enough to venture into a disreputable inn to try and elicit that letter from Lord Debenham’s valet, Jem, if you recall.”
“And she nearly delivered her child early at Mrs. Mobbs’s lodgings after I took her there,” added Kitty. “Not that she’d want that to be made public.”
“Good Lord!” Lissa, who was busying herself with the fire, looked over her shoulder. “What tall tale is this?”
Ralph’s mouth dropped open.
“Araminta was alone in her carriage on her way to visit her sister when the coachman stopped at her cries, just as I was issuing out of the theater. We took her to Mrs. Mobbs’s which was not far.”
“Not to Debenham’s townhouse?”
“She refused to be taken there.”
Lissa looked scandalized. “She’d rather give birth to her husband’s heir in a rat and flea-infested hovel—”
“You are referring to my choice of lodgings for the first little while I was in London,” Kitty reminded her with mild indignation. “Mrs. Mobbs mightn’t be the most fastidious of housekeepers, but she was good to me, and she was good to Araminta.”
Lissa spoke again. “So all progressed well. Or rather, didn’t, since the babe was persuaded to wait.”
Kitty frowned, recalling the infant’s mewling she was certain she’d heard. But then, the walls that separated Mrs. Mobbs’s dwelling from the one next door were paper thin, so it could have been any newborn. “I…suppose so. After all, Araminta didn’t give birth for another six weeks.”
Lissa stood. “Well, the fact is that our half-sister is apparently in grave fear of being exposed for some terrible misdemeanor her husband believes she committed.” She put her hand on Ralph’s shoulder and smiled sweetly. “Ralph, I think you have no choice but to quiz Lord Debenham—and others—as far as you are able to, without incurring suspicion, to find out what the gossip is and which scion of the nobility is in danger of being exposed for cuckoldry.”
Chapter 11
“You look troubled, Stephen. Come, my love, and tell me while I rub your shoulders.”
The sound of Sybil’s voice was enough to clear Stephen’s furrowed brow. Smiling, he turned to greet his beloved as she entered the potting shed. With his keen interest in horticulture—and insect life—the small dim room at the bottom of the kitchen garden offered a welcome refuge during the day for the couple to discuss the more intimate matters pertaining to daily life.
