woman’s cheeks as Farah pulled her over by the rain-streaked window. “I see you are aware of our former attachment,” she said, her grey eyes soft with understanding. “Then you must know how short and dispassionate it was. And how very long ago. I mean, my lands, I was still in my twenties.” She waved it all away. “Ancient history all but forgotten.”
Pru wasn’t certain what to say. She was tormented by the memories of her husband’s very physical all-consuming passion. Was Farah being kind again? Or dishonest?
Or had they truly not suited?
“It’s nothing, my lady, should I ring for some tea?”
“I’d rather you sit. I’m not certain how long we’ll be staying, and I have a rather lot to say.”
Carefully, Pru perched across from her on the emerald settee and gestured for her to go on.
Farah’s manner was soft and somber as she leaned forward to say, “I worked as a clerk at Scotland Yard for a handful of years. I have known every sort of criminal, and my share of murderers, and I am convinced you are not one.”
Pru let out a shaky breath. “How can you be so convinced?”
“Well it makes no sense, does it? A woman in your condition doing away with the one man who can provide her the protection of his name on her wedding day. Found with the dagger in her hands and no story of defense?” Farah tutted and shook her head. “Furthermore, I’ve lived with a man whose life was ruined when he was wrongfully accused. There’s a very singular helpless fury in that. I sense it torments you, as well.”
Farah gave a short chuckle “They’re men, darling. Adorable idiots to the last. I’m sorry to say but your methodical husband will take incontrovertible proof to convince him, but it seems to me that he’s intent upon finding it.”
Was he?
“Listen.” Farah gathered up her hands. “I know you’ll feel isolated in the coming months, and that I cannot abide. I want you to call upon me for support in regard to all things. Be it men, marriage, motherhood… or Morley. I worked for the man for years, I am aware of his faults and flaws as well as his heroic qualities, of which there are many. I’ve birthed two lovely, healthy children of my own and I’ve been through—well, not what you are—but enough that I feel I can be sympathetic to your plight.”
Pru didn’t know what to say, or even how to feel. It was all too wonderful. Too wonderful to be true?
“How…incredibly kind of you.”
“Also, I hope you don’t find me too forward, but I’ve secured you an appointment with my doctor who specializes in the care of expecting mothers. He’s the absolute best in his field, and he works closely with a local midwife, where they both tend to you and rely on each other’s expertise. I’d never trust my feminine health to anyone else. All of my nearest and dearest friends are patients.”
A little glow bloomed in the cockles of Pru’s heart. Here she’d been so ill. So afraid. So incredibly alone, and had all the time in the world to go mad with questions and anxieties over the impending arrival of a child.
She gave the hands around hers a responding squeeze. “Farah,” she tested the name. “I thank you. Truly. Anytime you would like to be so forward, I heartily encourage you.”
“Splendid!” the Countess beamed. “Next week you’re to come with me to the Duchess of Trenwyth’s to meet with our Ladies’ Aid Society. Let’s see, Lorelai, Countess Southbourne will be there. Millie LeCour.”
“The actress?” Pru marveled.
“Yes! She and her beau, Christopher Argent, live next to Trenwyth where Imogen, I mean, Her Grace, resides. Oh, Samantha and Mena are coming in from Scotland. You’ll have to excuse Samantha, as she’s American.” Farah said this as if it explained everything. “The Countess of Cursing, we call her, but once you get to know her you will be as in love with her as we all are. Mena is a delight. Never will you find a warmer Marchioness. In fact, she’ll likely adopt you as she can’t have children and will certainly angle to be godmother to Morley’s child, as she is to all of ours. Devotion is her exper—”
Pru pulled her hands away. So many names, so many titles. It was all so much. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to attend.