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Five
Foyle managed to find a serviceable, well-used gig and a horse to pull it at a price that Penelope could afford. Driving up the lane from Rose Cottage some days later, she felt a mixture of elation and sadness. She always enjoyed handling the reins of a vehicle, even a humble one such as this. Yet she’d learned her driving skills from her brother, and now they reminded her of a bond and a life that were gone forever.
“We turn there.” Kitty, who sat beside her, pointed left. They were headed for the village to stock up the larder.
“I thought it was straight ahead.”
“Both of ’em lead there. This way’s more interesting. Mr. Foyle told me.”
Penelope shrugged and made the turn. Foyle had been tramping all around the neighborhood. He would know.
They tooled along between fields lush with summer. The wind of their passage ruffled the strings of Penelope’s bonnet and cooled her cheeks. She realized that she hadn’t coughed even once in two days. She felt better than she had in months.
They passed the corner of a high stone wall on the right. “It looks like there’s an estate along here,” Penelope observed.
Kitty nodded. “It’s that Frithgerd place.”
Penelope’s hands jerked on the reins. The horse shied, puzzled. Penelope corrected.
“Frith.” Kitty said it with a small spitting noise. “Funny old name. Betty claims the place is so grand. Better than anything in Manchester, she says. When she’s never even been there. Or seen a town bigger than Derby.” The young maid sniffed. “I’ll see that for myself before I believe it, I told her.”
“I don’t want to go near Frithgerd.” This wasn’t strictly true. Penelope was curious about Lord Whitfield’s seat, as she was about the man. She caught herself thinking of him all too often and wondering what he was doing. Which was why she shouldnotlurk about his house as if hoping to see him. Could she turn the gig around in this narrow lane? Not easily.
“Not to go in, miss. Just driving by, like.”
“We won’t be able to see—” The gatehouse came into view. She couldn’t turn now. Backing and edging would be far more obvious than moving quickly past.
“Slow down,” Kitty urged. “We can look through the gates.”
They were open. Curiosity warred with caution in Penelope, and as a result she neither slowed nor hastened. They rolled past the opening at a sedate pace.
“Heigh-ho!” called a male voice. A youth rose from the sunny bench outside the gatehouse, where he’d been talking to an older woman. It was Tom, and his companion was Mrs. Darnell, who’d helped clean Penelope’s house. Gatekeeper’s wife, Penelope remembered. A compelling reasonnotto drive by Frithgerd like a stupid gawker.
Mrs. Darnell put aside the peas she’d been shelling and rose.
Penelope recognized that she had to stop. It would be the height of rudeness to drive by without a greeting. This woman had been kind to her, even if it was under orders.
“Got a gig, eh?” said Tom as he strode out to meet them. “Nice-looking animal.” He patted the horse’s neck.
Mrs. Darnell came out into the lane behind him. “Good day, miss.”
“Hello, Mrs. Darnell. We’re heading for the village shop you recommended. Just passing by.”
Kitty craned her neck, trying to see the house through the gates.
“You’d have been better off taking Cob Lane,” said Mrs. Darnell. “It’s a mile farther this way.”
It would be churlish to put the blame on Kitty. “I’m still learning my way about,” answered Penelope. She gathered the reins. “It was good to see you, Mrs.—”
Her young companion jumped down and scurried over to the gates. “I’ll just go to where I can see around those bushes,” she said.
“Kitty!”
Tom went after her. When he reached her side, he pointed to some sight beyond Penelope’s view.
Hoofbeats approached from behind the gig. Penelope prayed for strangers, but she wasn’t surprised to find that it was Lord Whitfield and his distinguished houseguest. Her luck was running that way. They trotted up on a pair of glossy mounts that made her horse look shabby and stopped beside her equipage.
“You took my advice,” said Whitfield, examining the gig as if its condition had anything to do with him.
