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."
"I beg your pardon," he said stiffly. "I believed that your concern for your nephew and your need to go to your brother were your first consideration. Under the circumstances, I put aside the desire both you and I might have to disown our relationship."
She could feel his anger and it subdued her own. "I am sorry," she said. "Of course, it must have been very painful for you, too, confessing to such a thing in the presence of your friends."
Silence descended on them once more.
"What did you mean," she asked, "when you said that it was news to you?"
"About your being my divorced wife?"
"Yes," she said. "Were you merely trying to make things easier for me, letting those people believe that there is nothing improper in our being together?"
He looked across at her fleetingly. "What made you believe that we are divorced?" he asked.
"But we are," she insisted. "You informed Papa and he broke the news to me. Why do you deny it?"
"Your father was lying to you, if indeed he did tell you that," Hetherington said cynically. "He was probably ashamed of you and wished to ensure that you did not keep coming back to me for more."
"For more?" she asked, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, come, Elizabeth," he said impatiently, "let us not reopen that sordid episode in our lives. I do not wish to talk about it. In fact, my dear, I do not particularly wish to talk to you at all. I am taking you to your brother because you need help and because I still owe you the protection of a husband. I do not pretend that there is any sentiment involved. This is no social occasion."
Elizabeth did not feel the set-down because she had heard it with only part of her mind. "Are you telling me that we are still married?" she asked incredulously.
"As tight as parson's mousetrap," he answered. "You are a marchioness, my lady. Are you not highly gratified?"
This time she heard the sneer in his voice. She stiffened, then drew her cloak more tightly around her against the chill of the cloudy summer afternoon and sank lower in the seat. If he wished for silence, she was quite willing to give it to him. And even if he did not want silence, he probably needed it. The curricle was moving along the narrow country road at a spanking pace. She felt safe; even as a very young man, Robert Denning had been a notable whip. She could see now that his ability had not left him. He took hills and corners with a skill that suggested perfect concentration, perfect confidence. And speed was everything. If only she could reach home in time. She dreaded to face the question: in time for what? When the thought that Jeremy might already be dead threatened to intrude, she thrust it resolutely to one side. He could not be dead. By the time she arrived, he would probably be toddling around again and everyone would wonder why she had come. Anyway, brooding would accomplish nothing. She turned her head to one side and tried to concentrate on the scenery.