way.”
“I know that.”
“I sincerely hope you do!”
*
Verity spent the afternoon sleeping on a sofa in the vicarage parlour, quite worn out by the events of the morning. Underwood found her there and gently covered her with a silk shawl, then sat quietly with a book until she woke just before tea, much refreshed and ravenously hungry. She was surprised to find him beside her and said so, at which he smiled and replied that he had set himself as guard-dog to drive away the procession of callers who had been determined to disturb her rest.
“Have I had callers?” she asked, quite astounded.
“Why the surprise?” he responded, “You have made many friends here. Lady Hartley-Wells sent Miss Cromer to ask after your health. She had noticed you looked a little pale this morning and was concerned. Isobel Wynter came whilst Charlotte was out riding. And Josephine Dunstable also called.”
At the mention of this last name Verity’s face drained of all colour, “Thank Heavens I did not have to face Mrs. Dunstable! I could not have looked her in the eyes after this morning. How awful it is to know something so dreadful about someone else’s husband.”
Underwood looked gravely at her, “You must not think of telling her, Verity, you know that, don’t you?” she met his glance with troubled eyes, “You think not?”
“I know not. For God’s sake, my dear, do not become embroiled in this. I know you are sure of what you saw, but there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for Dunstable’s behaviour, and untold trouble would be caused if you had your facts wrong. Let the Dunstables sort out their own affairs – after all, there could be many reasons for a man to embrace a woman who is not his wife.” The pointed way he said these words made Verity look sharply at him, but he gave her no clue as to his meaning. She had entirely forgotten her own embrace with Gil, for it had meant nothing to her beyond brotherly comfort, therefore she foolishly imagined he was making some feeble excuse lest she later be told that he himself had been caught embracing Charlotte Wynter. The blood rushed back into her cheeks and she said bitterly, “I can think of no innocent explanation for such behaviour!”
“I’m sorry to hear you say so,” he replied evenly, “Now, do we dine with Lady Hartley-Wells?”
“Whatever you wish, I don’t care!”
“Then since she keeps an excellent cellar, I shall gladly accept.”
*
Verity very nearly turned tail and ran when she realized that the Dunstables were also guests of Lady Hartley-Wells, but quickly recovered her equanimity – after all, she was going to have to meet Oliver Dunstable and his wife sooner or later – and he had no idea she had witnessed his assignation.
Surprisingly the meal was a merry affair, for it seemed that Mrs. Dunstable and Lady Hartley-Wells were old friends who had many amusing anecdotes to relate. Of course Gil and Underwood were always at their best when entertaining elderly ladies, since they were able to relax and not imagine themselves pursued – something which they both professed to abhor, but neither of whom seemed to run very speedily in the opposite direction.
The only sour note to the evening was the excessive attention poured upon Josephine by the detestable Oliver. No one ever found his fawning and gross flattery of his aged wife particularly pleasant at the best of times, but with the knowledge they now possessed, his behaviour was frankly nauseating.
They would have found it much, much worse had they known what the next few days were to bring.
*
CHAPTER FIVE
(“Altissima Quaeque Flumina Minimo Sono Labi” – Literally, the deepest rivers flow with the least sound – Still waters run deep)
Verity had slept badly, woken early to be sick, and now sat, heavy eyed and lethargic, waiting for her husband to bring her the customary cup of healing waters. She was beginning to
Karl Iagnemma
Brenda Sinclair
John O'Riley
Learning to Kill: Stories
C. J. Cherryh
Jill Gregory
Celya Bowers
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Aria Cunningham
Christopher George