Gwyneth kept her explanations simple. Susanna had been a friend of theirs, with no family, who had suffered a devastating accident on the road to Wolfbridge.
They’d agreed that was the best way to keep any rumours to a minimum. A sad ending to a troubled life, and everyone felt the loss in different ways.
Jeremy was unusually silent; gone was his cheerful grin, and there were no quick witticisms. His face was pale, his demeanour withdrawn, and Gwyneth admitted to herself that she was worried about him.
Actually, she worried for all of them.
This was an unexpected and terrible blow, one that had knocked them all askew.
Royce had acted as she would have expected—with stern composure and little emotion other than the profound sadness in his eyes. He’d seen death too many times to treat it with other than resignation, although this time was a great deal more personal.
Gabriel surprised her with his calm yet sad acceptance. He’d taken care of the details, clearly grieving but coping efficiently with much that needed to be done. He had cleansed the body with tender movements, bringing tears to Gwyneth’s eyes as she observed the respect reflected in every caring touch.
His was the hand clasping hers during the service, his cheeks wet with tears, but remaining silent.
Evan was also touched by the Vicar’s words. His head was bowed, his eyes closed, and yes, there were traces of tears on his cheeks as well. His lips moved a little, probably in prayer.
Then there was Jeremy. Dry of eye and firm of lip, he stared at the small wreath of flowers as the coffin settled in the earth. It was he who walked forward first with a handful of soil, reaching out and scattering it over the wooden lid.
“I’m sorry, Susanna. For everything…”
His voice broke, and he stepped back, his chest heaving as he fought the emotions clearly roiling within.
The others scattered their own handfuls of soil, and it was done.
“Come, my Lady.” Royce moved to her side. “’Tis time to return to Wolfbridge.”
She nodded. “Yes. I want to go home.” Never had she spoken more sincerely.
The large carriage awaited them in the lane bordering the cemetery, and Gwyneth looked back as they walked away. The sunlight dappled the gravestones, and birds sang as they went about their daily business.
It was a beautiful place, and she consoled herself with the thought that Susanna could truly rest in peace at last. They had done their best; there was nobody to notify or invite to the funeral. Jeremy had recalled mention of a sister, but inquiries in the neighbourhood had not been fruitful. Perhaps the woman had moved away since Susanna had appeared at St Polycarp’s…they could only guess. In any case, they would not have let any relation know of the way Susanna had met her fate. But the fact remained that the Wolfbridge party did know. They knew exactly how badly she’d been beaten.
And as the carriage drove away, Gwyneth could sense the anger and frustration still lingering in her gentlemen because she still carried it herself.
“I prepared a simple meal for this evening,” said Evan as they arrived back at Wolfbridge. “I thought it would be best.”
Royce nodded. “Ben will take care of the carriage.” He waved his hand to the lad on the box and watched as he carefully clicked up the horses and headed for the stable. “He’s doing very well. Remind me to increase his pay.”
Jeremy and Gabriel walked silently up the steps and into the house after Evan and Royce escorted Gwyneth. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “Trick is certainly irreplaceable, but we do need proper help with the stables. If a few extra coins will help keep Ben with us, then I agree.”
It was idle conversation, she knew, but it was what they both needed at that moment. Something to lift the pall of sadness that had hovered over Wolfbridge since Susanna’s death.
Later that day, Jeremy helped Evan with the trays, and soon they were outside, all of them, in the warm sun, sipping lemonade and attempting to eat.
Gwyneth adjusted her large-brimmed hat and fanned herself as her little Darcy lay panting quietly beneath her chair. “The heat continues,” she sighed. “Perhaps yet another storm by evening.” Her eyes drifted to the shadows building just behind the trees surrounding the expanse of lawn.
“I think you’re right.” Gabriel put his sandwich back on his plate. “I can’t eat. Stupid, isn’t it? Not eating won’t help Susanna, but still, I’m finding it hard to swallow the merest mouthful.”
Royce stood and walked over to the table, pouring more lemonade into his glass. “It’s not unusual,” he commented. “It happens to all of us when something like this erupts into our lives.” He returned to his seat. “Death is inevitable, but its arrival is seldom heralded. With no chance to prepare ourselves, we suffer a terrible shock.”
“That is very true,” agreed Evan.
“We’re all in the same boat here,” continued Royce. “None of us expected to be burying a young woman today. It’s horrid, the result of a despicable act perpetrated by people who are beneath contempt.”
“Royce, I might…I might have an idea about who that may be…” Jeremy kept his voice level as he looked at the other man. “I’m not sure, mind you, but the last time I saw her, she spoke of her divorce.”
“Divorce?” Gwyneth’s eyebrows rose. “I thought her unmarried, Jeremy.”
His sad blue eyes turned to her. “Forgive me. All of you. I’ve lied, and I don’t know how to explain.” He took a ragged breath.
“It is your past, Jeremy,” said Gabriel. “As I understand it, you
