Jessica looked at her friend in surprise. “I’ve no intention of returning to London.”
Natalia gaped. “But Jessica, your season has barely begun. You have to go back.”
She sat close to Natalia on the settee. “I have done what my father wanted. I had the pleasure of seeing him and mother married in London, made my presentation, and danced and sampled the amusements of the great city. But as much as I wanted to please them, I was miserable the whole time I was away.”
“Well, if I had my way, I’d never say no to a season in London, or a second or a third,” Natalia promised with a rueful laugh.
“I know you wouldn’t.” She squeezed Natalia’s hand. “And I’ve been thinking about this. If they force me to go back, I’ll insist you and your mother join us in London. We’ll find you a husband there.”
Natalia hugged her. “Would you? Mother would be so excited. She’s always talking about her one trip to London. I want to see the city, too, even if I never find a husband. I’d be forever in your debt for those memories.”
“Now it’s your turn. I want all the latest news of the district. Letters are much too brief to share all that must have happened since the week after Christmas.”
Jessica, her father, and her future mother, Gillian Thorpe, had left in something of a hurry in the first week of January, with tight lips about the real reason they were going to London so suddenly. Father’s marriage had come as something of a surprise to many, but Jessica was proud to call Gillian mother. Her own had died when Jessica was very little, and she’d always felt the lack.
Natalia sat sideways on the settee to face Jessica. “Well, let me see. I told you about old Mr. Grieves passing. His wake lasted until well into the next day. There were…” Natalia leaned close to whi
sper some details that made Jessica’s eyes widen in shock. “I couldn’t put any of that in a letter. Father was so disguised after the wake that mother didn’t speak to him for a whole week.”
Jessica winced. “I’m sorry to hear your parents found another reason to quarrel.”
“I’m growing used to it.” Natalia shrugged. “Mr. Whitfield saw us home that day.”
Jessica sat forward, eager for news of her neighbor. She hadn’t spoken to Gideon Whitfield since January. That was unusual and not at all pleasant. “That was good of him.”
“Mother was terribly fatigued.”
“I trust Mrs. Hawthorne is in good health now,” Jessica asked quickly. Natalia’s mother was a sweet, motherly kind of woman, but had spent a considerable amount of time on her fainting couch before Christmas.
“Oh, yes. Mother promised it was just the heat of the day affecting her.” Natalia scowled suddenly. “Mr. Whitfield has been very attentive while you were gone. He certainly kept his promise to you.”
Jessica grinned. She’d asked Mr. Whitfield to keep an eye on Natalia while she’d been gone, make sure she stayed out of trouble and discreetly warn away any unsavory types. Natalia was much too fond of flirting with handsome scoundrels. “I’m glad.”
“I wasn’t,” Natalia grumbled. “He proved too good at the task you set him, but we have not seen very much of him of lately though.”
“He’s not unwell, is he?” Jessica frowned. “Oh dear, and he has only Mrs. Mills and Mrs. Harrow to tend him. Mr. Lewis is next to useless as a valet. I’ll ask Mother to call at Quigley Hill to see if there is anything we can do for him.”
Natalia grabbed her hand and held her in place when she would have stood up and rushed off to find her new mother. “He’s not ill.”
Jessica subsided onto the settee with relief. “Well, why didn’t you say so straight away? You know we worry about him. Mr. Whitfield is simply dreadful at taking care of himself, living alone the way he does, hardly enough servants to run the house efficiently.”
A gentle smile played over Natalia’s lips. “I am sorry I worried you. I thought perhaps you would have heard already, and that is why you returned early.”
“Heard what? We only just arrived at home.”
Natalia eased closer. “I thought you and Mr. Whitfield might have corresponded.”
“No, of course we’ve not exchanged letters. That wouldn’t be proper,” Jessica protested. But she would have written him if she’d been allowed. “Father would have shared any news with me if it were important.”
“Perhaps not about this matter.” Natalia caught her hand and squeezed tightly. “Mr. Whitfield is expected to marry soon, my dear.”
Jessica could only stare, blinded by shock and utter disbelief. “Nonsense. He’s said he’d never marry a dozen times. Who is spreading such terrible gossip about him?”
“Well, everyone.” Natalia sat back. “And it’s not false speculation, either. Mrs. Napier’s widowed sister has come to live with them, and I’ve seen her with Mr. Whitfield nearly every day since.”
Whitfield married? Never in a million years would Jessica ever have imagined that. He was much too particular about…well, everything, especially his independence and privacy. Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Who is she?”
“Mrs. Alice Beck. She’s a widow and has two sons to raise, so her sister brought her here to live with them. The boys are often running along the road to visit Quigley Hill.”