A Place For Repentance (The Underwood Mysteries Book 6) by Suzanne Downes Page B

by strange women, you will find it very difficult to shake me off for a whole day again, whilst we are here!”
                  He laughed, crossed the room, and lifting her chin with one careless finger, he kissed her heartily, “How sweet that after so many years of marriage, and to a decrepit old invalid like myself, I still have the wherewithal to rouse your protective instincts where predatory women are concerned.”
                  Verity allowed him to kiss her, but she answered him with a snort of derision, “Do not inflate your ego too much, Cadmus, I simply think you are too old to making a fool of yourself chasing young women – so very undignified, my dear!”
                  They laughed softly together and Underwood drew her to her feet, “I’m terribly tired, sweetheart. Do you think I should lie down before dinner?”
                  She blushed rosily, “You are incorrigible, husband, but I will see you upstairs and settled in your bed. You have had a very long day, after all, for a decrepit old invalid.”
     
    *
     
                  The next few days passed uneventfully. The Underwoods received their promised invitations from the residents of West Wimpleford, as well as tickets for the theatre and Verity was able to reflect happily that the social whirl she had been longing for was finally coming to fruition. Underwood was not, perhaps, quite so enamoured of the prospective outings, but he viewed them with equanimity, since they were all with people he knew and he was not facing the agony of tedious small talk with strangers.
                  The first of their appointments was the theatre and Underwood found himself looking forward to the treat, especially when he discovered that it was to be ‘Much Ado About Nothing ’ they were to see. In his current unsteady state of mind, he didn’t think he could cope with one of the bloodier or more morbid plays.
                  He was not very sure of the veracity of the French girl, Violette’s story of being an actress, until he caught sight of her on the stage. She was evidently one of the bit part players and had few lines to deliver, which turned out to be very fortunate, for it rapidly became evident that her tooth was still troubling her and she was struggling to speak clearly. His heart went out to her, especially when a few rowdy young fellows in the pit began to call out to her, “Speak up, lassie, we can’t hear you!” and other similarly discouraging pieces of advice.
                  When Benedict gave the line, ‘ I have the toothache.’ Underwood could not help but lean into Verity and whisper, “Ironic, don’t you think?”
                  She nodded soberly and whispered back, “Poor girl to be reminded of it even by the play she is appearing in.”
                  He was sure that there were very few people like himself who noticed that she never appeared again after the second act, though her character should undoubtedly have been present. Shakespeare was so impenetrable to most of the audience that they barely recognised who was who and the loss of one minor character made no odds to them. Underwood was worried and so was Verity when he whispered first her identity and then her absence during the course of the play.
                  “She looked terribly unwell, Cadmus,” whispered Verity, when he pointed out the missing girl, “Do you think she is in real distress? Should we go backstage and look for her?”
                  “I don’t see how we can do so until the play is over. It would cause a distraction which would be grossly unfair to the other players and the audience. We will tell Lindell of our intention the moment it is over. I’m sure he can see the young people back to the vicarage alone, if necessary.”
                  They were both tense for the remainder of