“And are you traveling all alone, Mrs. Gresham?” There was the slightest note of censure in her voice.

Lottie shook her head and gave what she hoped was a bashful smile. “My husband is in the dining car.” How easily the lie slipped from her lips.

The woman’s eyes lit up. “Is this your honeymoon?”

Lottie paused. She and Alec hadn’t discussed their backstory, which now seemed like a rather large oversight on both their parts. “Yes,” she answered before the moment could turn awkward.

“How terribly romantic!” The woman punctuated her statement with a dramatic sigh. “I wanted to go to Italy on my honeymoon, but my dear late husband couldn’t bear the thought of Italian food, so we never went abroad.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Mrs. Huntington waved a hand. “Oh, it’s been over a decade since poor Godfrey left me. But here I am, finally making the journey. Not alone, of course. I’ve a girl in second class. The daughter of my neighbor back in Milton Keynes. A Miss Abbott. She is about your age. I’d have paid for her to travel with me in first class, but the girl is such a chatterbox that I need the break.”

Lottie gave her an understanding nod, though she rather suspected Mrs. Huntington was a bit of a chatterbox herself.

The woman settled her hands onto her lap. “Now, you must tell me of your itinerary so far. I’m always curious to hear of other peoples’ travels. And please, spare no detail!”

Though it had been easy enough to lie about her marital status, Lottie found inventing an entire honeymoon far more difficult. Yet Mrs. Huntington truly did wish to know every little detail, and asked questions if they weren’t provided, so Lottie spent nearly half an hour recalling her time in Italy, substituting Alec as her travel companion instead of Mrs. Wetherby—though she opted not to give him Mrs. Wetherby’s chronic indigestion.

Just as Lottie began to talk about the village, the door opened and Alec entered the compartment. But his usual aloofness instantly dissolved as he caught sight of their companion. He put on an affable smile and his entire countenance seemed immediately lighter, as if he really was nothing more than a humble history professor. The change was so swift and complete Mrs. Huntington didn’t appear to notice.

“This must be your husband. I’ve heard all about you, Mr. Gresham. But your wife neglected to mention how very handsome you are.” Her eyes lingered over his frame in a manner Lottie didn’t much care for.

Having a handsome husband must be a rather tiresome business.