Page 29 of The Elusive Phoebe (The Widows of Lavender Cottage #1)
Chapter Twenty-One
MISS CAROLINE FAIRFAX'S SPIRITUAL JOURNEY
C aroline Fairfax had always been the most devout of the Widows, so when Lady Joanna suggested she play Lady Smalling on a religious pilgrimage, it seemed like perfect casting.
What Caroline hadn't anticipated was how much fun she would have playing a widow torn between earthly wealth and spiritual calling.
She arrived in Canterbury on a drizzly Thursday morning, having chosen the cathedral lodgings specifically for their austere atmosphere and gossipy residents. Nothing spread information faster than a community of pious ladies with too much time on their hands.
"I seek peace," Caroline told the Mother Superior when she applied for temporary residence. "My late husband's death has left me with... burdens... I'm not certain I'm equipped to bear."
"What sort of burdens, my child?"
Caroline allowed her voice to tremble slightly. "Worldly burdens. Robert left me with substantial properties, significant wealth, and... other things... that weigh heavily on my conscience."
"Other things?"
"Documents, Mother Superior. Papers related to his government work that I don't understand but fear others might... misuse." Caroline clasped her hands together. "I find myself wondering if perhaps a life of service to God might be preferable to managing such worldly concerns."
The Mother Superior's eyes lit up with the particular interest of religious institutions when faced with wealthy potential converts. "Perhaps we could discuss your situation more fully?"
Over the next three days, Caroline established herself as the most fascinating resident the cathedral lodgings had ever hosted. She attended every service, participated in all prayers, and generally presented herself as a deeply spiritual woman wrestling with the burden of unexpected wealth.
But she also made sure to drop tantalizing hints about her "situation" during communal meals and evening conversations.
"I never expected to inherit so much," she confided to Sister Margaret during breakfast. "Robert's estates, his investments, even some rather mysterious properties he never mentioned during his lifetime."
"Mysterious properties?"
"Government safe houses, I believe. Connected to his work with... sensitive matters." Caroline lowered her voice. "There are people who believe I have access to information that could be... damaging... to certain parties."
Sister Margaret's eyes widened. "How troubling!"
"Indeed. I've had to change my residence several times since Robert's death.
There are those who follow me, seeking what they believe I possess.
" Caroline sighed deeply. "Perhaps that's why I'm drawn to the idea of taking vows.
Behind convent walls, surely I would find the peace that eludes me in the world. "
By her second day, the entire religious community was buzzing with speculation about the wealthy widow who might renounce the world to escape mysterious pursuers.
Caroline's masterpiece, however, was her performance during public prayers.
She had timed her emotional breakdown to occur during the most well-attended morning service, when the cathedral would be full of both residents and visitors. As the priest began prayers for the souls of the departed, Caroline suddenly burst into tears.
"Oh, Robert!" she cried, her voice echoing through the sacred space. "If only you could tell me what to do with the burden you've left me!"
The priest paused, clearly uncertain how to handle such a dramatic outburst, while Caroline continued her monologue.
"The documents, the secrets, the danger—how can I bear it all alone? Perhaps it would be better to renounce everything, to retreat from the world entirely!"
Several congregation members rushed to comfort her, while others whispered among themselves about the mysterious widow's "burden of secrets."
Caroline allowed herself to be led outside, where she was immediately surrounded by concerned ladies eager to offer assistance and extract information.
"What documents, my dear?" asked the Archbishop's wife. "Perhaps we could help you understand them?"
"Oh, I couldn't possibly involve innocent people," Caroline replied through her tears. "Robert's work for the government was so dangerous. There are Irish revolutionaries who believe I know the identities of their enemies, and English parties who fear I might expose their... indiscretions."
"How terrifying! But surely the authorities could protect you?"
"Can they?" Caroline's voice rose dramatically. "When Robert himself was killed for what he knew? When even now there are men following me, waiting for a chance to... to..." She broke off with a shudder.
The ladies clustered around her, offering everything from smelling salts to spiritual guidance, while Caroline painted a picture of a woman torn between duty and self-preservation.
Her greatest triumph came when one of the suspicious men finally tracked her to Canterbury.
Caroline had spotted him lurking around the cathedral grounds on her third morning, and she immediately set her plan in motion. She arranged to be in the cathedral gift shop when he approached, surrounded by witnesses and positioned near several escape routes.
"Lady Smalling?" the man asked, approaching her cautiously.
Caroline whirled around, her face a mask of terror. "Oh! I... yes... though I wasn't expecting... How did you find me here?"
"I represent certain parties interested in your late husband's affairs."
Caroline glanced around the shop, noting with satisfaction that the elderly shopkeeper and several customers were watching with fascination. "Please," she whispered, "not here. This is sacred ground."
"Perhaps we could step outside?"
"I... I suppose..." Caroline allowed herself to be escorted toward the door, but not before ensuring her apparent distress was noticed by everyone present.
Outside, Caroline delivered her most convincing performance yet. She played the part of a deeply religious woman horrified by the violence that had surrounded her husband's work and desperately seeking escape from worldly concerns.
"I don't understand why people keep pursuing me," she said, her voice shaking. "I've told everyone—I know nothing about Robert's intelligence work. I'm just a simple widow trying to find peace."
"But surely your husband left papers, documents..."
"Of course he did, but I've put them all in trust," Caroline said quickly. "Locked away where they can do no harm. I want nothing to do with such dangerous affairs."
"Where are they locked away?"
Caroline's eyes widened as if she'd said too much. "I... I shouldn't have... that is, I've already said more than I should." She glanced toward the cathedral. "Perhaps I should seek sanctuary? Is that still possible in these modern times?"
For the next twenty minutes, Caroline led the man through a conversation that established her as a terrified widow who had hidden her husband's secrets in some secure location but had no intention of ever retrieving them.
"I'm considering taking vows," she finally announced. "Renouncing the world entirely. It seems the only way to escape the violence that surrounded Robert's life."
"But if you became a nun..."
"Then someone else would have to deal with all those worldly concerns," Caroline said firmly. "The trustees I've appointed could manage the properties, handle the documents, make all the difficult decisions. I would be free to serve God in peace."
She could see the frustration in the man's eyes as he realized that a nun would be both impossible to threaten and legally unable to access the documents he sought.
"Of course," Caroline added thoughtfully, "I haven't made my final decision yet. I may travel to other religious sites first—perhaps the Lake District, or the Scottish highlands. I want to be certain of my calling before I take such a momentous step."
She swept back into the cathedral, leaving the agent with the impression that Lady Smalling was either about to disappear into a convent forever or embark on a religious pilgrimage across Britain.
The next morning, Caroline departed Canterbury with maximum drama, stopping at the cathedral to make a substantial donation "for the poor souls who have no earthly advocate" and announcing to anyone who would listen that she was "bound for the northern counties to pray at ancient shrines."
As her carriage pulled away, she could see the suspicious man frantically preparing to follow her trail, no doubt reporting to his superiors that Lady Smalling was either about to become unreachable in a convent or was heading north with dangerous secrets in tow.
My Dear Lady Joanna,
I am delighted to report that Canterbury now considers itself blessed to have hosted the pious Lady Smalling during her spiritual crisis.
The cathedral community is convinced that I'm wrestling with the burden of dangerous government secrets while considering taking religious vows. The local society believes I'm a tragic widow fleeing violent pursuers through prayer and pilgrimage.
I was approached by one persistent gentleman (Irish accent, suspicious behavior, clearly uncomfortable in sacred spaces) who seemed most interested in discussing dear "Robert's" documents.
I convinced him that I've placed all worldly concerns in trust and am considering renouncing the world entirely to escape the violence that surrounded my late husband's work.
My performance during morning prayers was particularly effective—I believe half the congregation now thinks I'm on the verge of becoming a contemplative nun, while the other half expects me to flee to remote religious sites across Britain.
I do hope our pursuers enjoy searching convents and abbeys across the northern counties. I've given them quite a spiritual journey to follow.
Your sister in deception, Caroline
P.S. - I may have accidentally made rather a large donation to the cathedral in Lady Smalling's name. I got carried away during my performance and couldn't back down without seeming suspicious. I trust this is an acceptable expense for our cause?