Dora patted her shoulder. “I said possible danger. He is not hurt or dead.”
“Please put the cards away.” Laura swallowed a feeling of dread and pushed back her chair. “I don’t believe in the Tarot.”
Dora obliged. “We shall have to discover more ourselves. In my humble opinion, your life won’t be as good as it should be until we discover what lies in the past. It greatly affects the present and the future.”
“Dear Aunt Dora,” Laura kissed her aunt’s soft cheek, “I wish you wouldn’t talk like a proverb. It gives me goosebumps.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next few days passed slowly. There was little to do beyond reading, and riding the stubborn mare was more of a chore than a delight. After Dora’s disturbing Tarot reading, Laura grew more anxious and impatient for word from Nathaniel. She rode to the village post office and sent him a telegram:Darling, I long for word from you. Please tell me you’reall right. Your loving wife,Laura.
She rode back to the house. A colorful drift of leaves covered the ground beneath the trees, as autumn’s beauty faded into winter. Aunt Dora was in the library, surrounded by tomes ofpoetry.
“Sit down, dear girl,” Dora said with a vague smile. “Find something to read to pass the time.”
Laura bit her lip. “Very well, but I have no intention of spending winter here.”
“No. Of course not,” Dora said. “Winter is some weeks away.”
Somehow that did not offer Laura any sense of comfort. Why had Nathaniel not contacted her? She thought again of Dora’s Tarotcards.
Desperate for something to do, Laura began an unfinished linen sampler she’d found in a workbox, the birds and flowers yet to do. Because of her impatient nature, she found sewing tedious, and it did not quell her anxiety about Nathaniel, although it did keep her hands busy. Gold, green, black, magenta, dark brown and copper silks decorated the meandering border entwined with the family initials. There was an autumnal scene at its center, beautifully stitched, an elegantly dressed lady in blue standing among trees, a house and a church in thebackground.
Two days later, the embroidery had failed to soothe Laura’s mind, and after hours of work, with all the flowers completed but the birds yet to do, she threw the sampler down. She roamed the patterned carpet from one end of the room to the other, turning with a swish of hergown.
“My goodness. You’re like an African lion I saw at the London zoo,” Aunt Doraobserved.
Laura sank onto the sofa beside her. “I can’t help fearing something’s wrong at Wolfram. I haven’t received a reply to my telegram.”
Dora cast her a guilty glance. “But you sent it only two days ago.”
“Telegrams are supposed to be quick.”
“I’ve worried you.” Dora looked upset. “I consulted my cards again this morning. I didn’t find anything to concern you in the reading.”
“If I could only hear from him. The telegram might not have been delivered. I’ll ride to the post office and inquire.”
“Very well. Perhaps the fresh air will do you good.”
On the way to the post office, Laura called in at the vicarage. Her growing curiosity banished any reservation concerning Nathaniel’s mother. Dora would approve. This time the vicar was at home. He smoothed his thinning gray hair and apologized for not calling on her. There had been an epidemic of whooping cough in the village environs, which had claimed several smalllives.
“How sad. Is there anything I can do?” Lauraasked.
“Thank you, my lady. I believe we are at the end of it, God willing.”
“That is good news at least.” Laura hesitated, aware her request was badly timed and would likely sound odd. “My husband’s mother, Olivia, is buried here. I am curious about her. Did you know her?”
“Not well. Her ladyship had married when I came here. I met her at the end of her life. She suffered greatly, poor lady. And her baby, who was born too early, did not survive, of course.”
“I’m sorry to hear that she suffered,” Laura said, fighting to mask hershock.
He stroked his chin. “His lordship’s grandparents were good people. They took their daughter in and cared for her until she died. Many would not have done so.”
“I believe they were.” To admit she knew so little would be an insult to Nathaniel and might become known in the village. The villagers had already shown considerable interest in her, the men removing their hats and bowing, the women bobbing a greeting in thestreet.
“Is your stay here a long one, Lady Lanyon? The church ladies’ committee has expressed a wish to meet you.”
“Only a few more days, Mr. Maudling. But I should be delighted to receive the ladies. Shall we make it afternoon tea tomorrow at two?”
