Suddenly Mr. Mainwaring was guiding her to the nearest chair and Mr. Rowe was pressing a glass of something into her cold hand.
"Calm yourself," the latter gentleman said evenly. "Tell us what was in your letter, Miss Rossiter, if you will."
"The child toddled off a few days ago in the rain," she said, staring only at Mr. Rowe. "They all searched but could not find him for all of one night. When they did come upon him, he was already in a high fever. And when my brother wrote me several hours later, he was even worse and like to d-die, the physician said. Ma'am"-she turned in frenzy to Mrs. Rowe-"the mail coach leaves town in a little less than two hours time. I must be on it. It is faster than the stage. And my brother and my sister-in-law will need me. Louise is in delicate health again."
"Yes, yes, my dear," Mrs. Rowe agreed, "you must go. But not on the mail. Mr. Rowe will order out the carriage for you. It will be slower, but a great deal more comfortable and suited to your station."
"No, ma'am," she said, agitated. "I would not inconvenience you. And indeed speed is essential."
Mr. Mainwaring bent over her. "I shall take you, Elizabeth," he said, "in my curricle. It is not comfortable tor a long journey, but it is as fast as any vehicle."
"It would not answer, William," said Mrs. Prosser. "A curricle will accommodate only two persons. And you could not take Miss Rossiter without a chaperone. It really would not do at all. Even with a curricle you would need to spend a night on the road. Your brother lives in Norfolk, does he not, my dear?"
Elizabeth looked up in an agony of frustration, about to say that she did not care a fig for chaperones or the proprieties, provided only that she reach John as soon as was humanly possible. She met the eyes of Hetherington, who was standing across the room, his face white and drawn.
"I shall drive Elizabeth home," he said distinctly now.
Everyone turned in his direction.
"Nonsense, Robert," Amelia Norris said crossly. "None of this is your concern."
"There would still be the need of a chaperone, Robert," Mrs. Prosser said more practically.
"Not with me," he said, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth's. "A woman does not need a chaperone when she travels with her own husband."
The silent attention that was suddenly focused entirely on his person was worthy of any melodrama.
"The lady is my wife," he said quietly, "and has been for six years."
Pandemonium broke loose. Everyone spoke at once. But the central figures were alone in the room. Elizabeth found that she could scarcely breathe. Even the anxiety over John and Jeremy faded for a moment.
"Was," she said. "Was, Robert. I have been youi divorced wife for almost as long."
"Have you?" he said… "That is certainly news to me."
"Beth, this cannot be so, can it?" Cecily was asking, bright spots of color in her cheeks.
"Is this true, Elizabeth?" Mr. Mainwaring was asking.
"Robert, what are you talking about?" Amelia Norris was asking shrilly.
"Well, Cinderella!" Mr. Rowe commented.
"Miss Ross-my wife wishes to leave with all speed," Hetherington said firmly, taking command of the situation and striding across the room toward her. "Go and pack a bag, ma'am. I shall ride to Ferndale and do likewise. I shall be back here with a curricle within the hour. You will get to your brother by noon tomorrow at the latest." He turned, without waiting for her reply, and strode from the room.
There was a stunned silence in the room for a few moments.
"Well, bless my soul," said Mrs. Rowe, "bless my soul."
"Bertha," Amelia Norris said in a brittle voice that sounded close to breaking, "let us leave here at once. I have never been so insulted in my life. Hetherington and a-a governess!" She swept from the room, her back rigid, her head held high, and did not pause to see if her sister was following.
Mrs. Prosser did follow, but she paused beside Elizabeth's chair. "You certainly do not need our presence here to complicate matters, ma'am," she said pleasantly to Mrs. Rowe. She put a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "I do hope that you will find all well when you reach home, my dear," she said.
Mr. Prosser bowed to the company and left the room with his wife.
"Come, Anne," Mrs. Claridge said, rising to her feet with obvious reluctance. It was not every day that there was such drama in the neighborhood. "It is time we took our leave, too."
After they had left, Mrs. Rowe turned to Elizabeth.
"Well, bless my soul," she said, "I do not know what to say."
"Then say nothing, my love," her husband suggested. "You can see that Miss Rossiter is in shock. I suggest that you and Cecily take her upstairs and help her pack a bag. Hetherington will be here soon."
"Yes, yes, of course we must," his wife agreed. "But, really, Mr. Rowe, we must call her the Marchioness of Hetherington now. Dear me, and I never even suspected."
"Miss Rossiter has chosen her name," Mr. Rowe answered firmly. "I see no reason why we should call her differently until she asks us to do so."
Elizabeth, on whom her outer surroundings were beginning to penetrate again, shot him a grateful glance and looked up to Mr. Mainwaring, who was standing ashen-faced beside her chair.
"Will you take me, sir?" she asked. "I do not wish to go with him."
He looked deeply into her eyes, and looking back, she could see pain there. "I cannot, ma'am," he said in a strained voice. "I would not interfere between a man and his wife."
She rose and left the room numbly. Mrs. Rowe and Cecily followed her upstairs, though she packed her own bag, mechanically and silently.
"The marquess is here," Cecily said finally. She had been standing looking out the window for several minutes. She turned away from it, ran impulsively to Elizabeth, and threw her arms around her. "I do not know what happened, Beth," she cried, "but I do know it must have been something dreadful. You are both such dear people, and I know something quite extraordinary must have driven you apart. But I love you, Beth."
"Well, I declare," Mrs. Rowe added, her nose turning pink as the tears started to her eyes, "I am sure this house is much too humble a one for you, my lady, but you are always welcome here."
Elizabeth hugged them both quickly. "I shall write as soon as I have the chance," she said. "I know I owe you some explanation."
Downstairs, the three men stood in the hallway. Hetherington, dressed in a caped greatcoat and holding his beaver hat in one hand, stretched out the other for Elizabeth's bag.
"We should be on our way without further delay," he said briskly.
Mr. Rowe grasped Elizabeth by the shoulders. "Go, Cinderella," he said quietly, "and remember that you have both a home and employment here to come back to." He bent and kissed her on the cheek.
She would not trust her voice but smiled fleetingly and hurried after the striding figure of Hetherington. Mr. Mainwanng came after her and helped her up to the high seat of the curricle while Hetherington was strapping her bag at the back.
"I may not interfere," he said before lifting her up, "but I am your friend, Elizabeth. Always. You may depend on me."
She was swung up into her seat, Hetherington climbed up beside her and took the ribbons from the waiting groom, and they were on their way.
---
Elizabeth felt all the strangeness and awkwardness of the situation as soon as she turned back from waving to the little group outside the house. The man beside her was silent, concentrating on guiding the horses through the stone gateposts at the end of the driveway and out into the road.
"Why did you do it, Robert?" she asked.
"Do what, ma'am?"
"Why did you tell them about the connection between us? There was a roomful of people to hear. This is the place I had chosen for my new life. Now I do not know if I shall ever be able to return here."