An Honest Deception Read Online Free

reflected that her straits were
dire indeed; it would take more than the concern of her friends to help her out
of it.

Chapter 3
    The next day dawned
warmer, but this was not necessarily a blessing, for the snow of the previous
day turned to a depressing rain. It seeped into everything, and particularly
through the roof of Morgan Park, which had for many years needed repair.
    Letitia, the
Exencours and Lord Bainstall assembled for the funeral, which was every bit as
melancholy as Isobel had feared and Bainstall had hoped it would be. The skies
continued to pour forth, and the lowering clouds in the distance lent a
threatening aspect to the gloomy occasion. Many members of the local gentry
made their appearance, though Isobel suspected they attended more from
curiosity than from affection for Lord Morgan.
    Letitia had
insisted that her daughter, Emily, be allowed to remain in the house, stating
firmly that a child of three could not be expected to stand in the rain for a
father she had barely known. Her six-year-old son could not be reprieved
though, and he now stood solemnly by his mother, watching his father’s coffin
being lowered into the earth.
    The minister spoke
as briefly as he dared, the rain dripping from his nose as he mouthed some
pious untruths about Lord Morgan's integrity, kindness, and exceptional
qualities as a husband and father. Isobel found it necessary to avoid looking
at her husband, as his expression of lugubrious sorrow threatened to throw her
into a fit of nervous giggles. She concentrated instead on Letitia, who stood
patiently in the wet, her son's hand clasped in her own, her eyes fixed on the
coffin as it disappeared into the ground. Those eyes were quite dry, but the
rain disguised that fact, and she looked the picture of the sorrowing widow.
    “Poor Lady Morgan,”
Mrs. Blake was heard to whisper to her husband. “She looks quite destroyed by
Lord Morgan's death. Not but what he was far from perfect, but what does a
woman do without her husband? I only hope she may find someone willing to take
on the mess her affairs are surely in. The sooner she remarries, the better.”
    Letitia did not
give a sign that she had heard, but reflected bitterly on the comment. She had
very little idea of what she would do now. Money had long been a worry of hers,
but as long as Alfred had lived, she had had no control over it. Now it had
become her duty to be sure that Morgan Park remained intact to be handed on to
her son and to provide her daughter with the governesses, clothes, and dowry
befitting a person of her rank.
    Letitia closed her
eyes. The only child of a widowed, doting father, she had not been raised to
know anything of her finances; that was a man’s business. Yet her husband had
gambled away their wealth, and now she found herself in the position of needing
to manage what little was left on her own, or speedily find herself another
husband to do so for her. Real tears sprang into her eyes at the thought.
    The service ended
and the funeral party trailed back to the house. Letitia’s melancholy
ponderings were interrupted by the steady flow of visitors paying their
respects and proffering good wishes. To her great relief, Isobel approached her
and laid a gentle hand on her arm.
    “Letty, pray let
your cousin, Exencour, and me greet the remainder of your guests. You look
terribly fatigued, and no one can blame you if you feel the need to lie down. I
do think it would be for the best.”
    “Aye, Cousin,” said
Bainstall, “I am sure that your grief is quite overwhelming, and doubtless you
feel guilt about neglecting your poor husband while he resided on the Continent
these past years. Do lie down for some time; the lawyer will be here this
afternoon for the reading of the will and you will need to have your wits about
you.”
    With a grateful
smile at Isobel and a quiet nod to her cousin, Letitia fled the drawing room
for her chamber. She did not undress, but lay on the bed fully clothed, a