“She said so, but adding the proviso that she might tell him she would ever be ready to go home should I fall in love.”
“To which you replied — what?” Denzell asked, with a brief resurgence of his headache as the heaviness that had so beset him earlier returned in some small measure.
“That I never would.” She looked away, muttering in a low voice, “I did not add my thoughts.”
“What thoughts?”
She shook her head. There could be no admission of that. She could not tell him how she had tried to push away such thoughts — as could never be pushed away. How could she fall in love at some future date, when her heart was already given?
“Suffice to say,” she said, “that Mama believed me, as I thought. But this morning —” drawing a breath against a renewed rise of the panic in her breast — “I was obliged to go out, leaving Mama alone with Betsey. Had I had the slightest inkling of what she intended, I should never have gone. But it is no use in saying that. I went only to make a purchase at Mr Sprange’s shop. I was gone some while, but I never dreamt…”
“Verena,” Unice put in, “you cannot blame yourself. How could you have expected that your mother would deceive you?”
“Never mind that, Unice. Go on with your story, Verena,” Denzell said.
She drew a breath, and continued. “When I arrived home, I discovered Mama had gone. Betsey said that a note arrived, and the next thing she knew, Mama had quietly put on her cloak and bonnet and walked out of the house. It had not even occurred to Betsey to try to stop her!”
“Perhaps she thought she was going for a walk,” suggested Unice.
Verena shrugged. “I don’t know what she thought. She does not have my imagination, and she must have supposed — as I had — that there was nothing to be concerned about as regards Nathaniel.”
“What did you do then?” Denzell asked, keeping her to the point.
“I ran straight to the New Inn, of course. Adam was putting up there, and I knew he had taken Nathaniel with him to secure a room there also.” She pressed her free hand to her cheek. “You m-may imagine my feelings when I discovered that both he and Adam had packed up and gone that very morning!”
Suddenly she wrenched her fingers out of Denzell’s hold, and threw both hands over her face, shaking her head in a frenzy of distress. Her words came muffled, but the despairing anger could be heard within them.
“I will never forgive him, never! He knew — heknewhow I felt.” The agitated hands returned to her lap, gripped together, as she glanced at the surrounding faces, disbelief in both feature and voice. “How could he do it? How could he connive against me, knowing to what Mama must be subjected?”
Osmond and Unice looked at each other in some puzzlement, but Denzell understood.
“You are speaking of Adam. But you do not know for certain, Verena, that he has done any such thing. Did you make any enquiries at the New Inn? Had your mama come there, someone must have seen her.”
The once more ravaged features turned back in his direction, but it was obvious that she was too lost in the dread of the meaning of these events to take his meaning.
“I did ask,” she uttered in a frustrated tone, “but do you suppose those fools in that place could tell me anything? One ostler had seen Nathaniel leave. But he could not say whether he had seen anyone with him, and no one observed a woman come to him.” She struck her hands together. “But it must be so. What else could have occurred? They planned this behind my back, and they have all gone together!”
“But you do not know that, Verena,” objected Osmond.
“Ossie is in the right of it,” said Denzell. “You can be certain of nothing at this present.”
Verena gazed at him in dumb wretchedness for a moment. Then, in a helpless, pathetic sort of way, she said, “What shall I do? I don’t know what todo.”
Unice got up and came over to her. “Poor Verena. You need do nothing, I am sure. Osmond and Denzell will take over this investigation. You will stay here with me.”
But Denzell was frowning in thought. “Wait a moment! Verena, has your mama taken all her things?”
Verena gazed at him. “I — don’t know.”
“You said she left the house in her bonnet and cloak, but carrying nothing else.”
“It did not occur to me to look.”
Denzell smiled. “You jumped to a very natural conclusion, but perhaps there is some simpler explanation.”
Her hands went up to her temples again. “What other explanation could there be?”
“I don’t know that,” he admitted, “and to tell the truth my head is none too clear just now. But it does occur to me that if she had intended to go home, she must have taken her clothes. And in all conscience, do you believe that your Mama would use you in such a way after all you have done for her?”
