“Not bad news, I hope?”
“No, quite the opposite.”
“That is a relief. What is it?”
“What is what?”
“The news. You said it was good news.”
“Oh. Er… It is just your sister, telling me how well the children are doing.”
“May I read it after you? It would be lovely to hear what Hope is getting up to. Her life seems quite full compared to mine.”
“No! I mean, no… It is rather a personal letter. Between mother and daughter. You understand.”
“Of course, Mama. I understand completely.”
All avenue of further investigation now closed to her, Verity withdrew from the room and continued on to her own. She sat upon the edge of her bed, musing over the facts, few as they were. What secrets were being concocted between Hope and their mother? Was it even Hope’s letter?
She decided it must have been. Her mother might be a schemer, devising some means to secure Verity a husband, but she was not a liar. So, it must be someone her sister knew, but whose acquaintance was too new to facilitate introductions. Someone in Munro, else their mother would not have needed Hope’s help.
Verity threw herself backward onto her eiderdown. It was all very vexing.
The soft heat of the eiderdown caused her eyelids to droop. She curled up into its nest-like protection and released a martyred breath. One of these days, she was going to have to put her foot down. One of these days…
Her breathing deepened. Her thoughts began to drift. One of these days…
But for now, she was content to sleep.
