Christopher instructed the driver of the carriage where to go, and as soon as he was seated with the door securely shut the horses began to move along the cobbled streets. The church he was taking her to was small and a little way out of London, in a quaint village he often passed through on his way back down to Surrey. If he were a God-fearing man he might have taken the opportunity to visit there once or twice before, but as it was all faith in religion had long since vanished from Christopher's beliefs.
"We shall not be long. It is twenty minutes at the most even on a bad day," he told her, offering a smile. To be with a person in their grief was hard to stomach, especially since he had not truly overcome his own.