convincing.
For the first time since his arrival in her home, in the home sheâd shared with her husband, the home where she was raising her fine sons, she met Mr. Lanfieldâs gaze fully. She was certain of one thing. âMr. Lanfield has explained to us that my return to Marksby would be a mistake. He would not wish to take us there, any more than I would for him to.â
He looked at Mrs. Martin for a long moment, almost rudely long, long enough for her to redden satisfactorily. Such rudeness was nothing compared to the outright animosity sheâd encounter in the village. Even now, this foul woman showed no honest remorse for how severely sheâd hurt the village that had once called her their own. Here she stood staring at him challengingly. She should see for herself what sheâd wrought. How sweet would it be to deliver her, to have her face her acts of betrayal and their consequences? Did the prodigal daughter, once so eager to wallow in city life, have an accurate sense of what would await if she returned to the village?
Only when Mrs. Martin turned away did he realize that her voluble friend Mrs. Clarke was still trying to convince her. â. . . so you wouldnât have to deal withâwell, youâd be much safer and you could go without making a hodgepodge of travel arrangements along the way.â Like a wily sheepdog, this Mrs. Clarke was. Then she turned on him and said, âAre you sure you could take her, Mr. Lanfield? It wouldnât affect your business?â
This is your opportunity to bow out gracefully. Take it . But he owed it to the Grand-dame. If she sent for her granddaughters, after all that had passed, he should do whatever he could to see her wish fulfilled. And if Mrs. Martin deemed the situation dire enough to show her face in Marksby, well, he had to be a witness to that. It might prove to be entertaining, much like the lions and gladiators of the ancient Coliseum. âNot at all. My appointments have been fulfilled. I would have remained in Town to explore other opportunities, but I have nothing pressing.â
Mrs. Helena Martinâhe couldnât even think of her name without sneeringâopened and shut her mouth repeatedly like a caught fish. She had no inkling what awaited her. He would do his duty as an honest man, but she would have to suffer the effects of her desertion as Marksby saw fit.
âMay I have a word with the young gentlemen, your sons?â he asked abruptly. He gestured to the Martin boys, who now were huddled in the doorway, clearly eavesdropping and bursting to speak.
Mrs. Martin nodded, hastily wiping her face. Was that wetness upon her cheeks? This was what she wantedâto return to the village and see her grandmother. Even if he and the rest of the room dictated the means, she was still getting her way in the end. When she left the room, he said, âWould you boys like to see my horse?â
âOh, yes, sir!â Tommy said. Mark only nodded, suspicion in his eyes.
âTalos is a good beast, a strong and hearty one,â he said as they walked outside. âYou worry for your mother. You heard that sheâs going on a trip. Youâll miss her, I know. Yet the best way to help her now is to make her journey as easy as you can.â
Mark finally spoke. âThe last time our parents went away, our father came back on a stretcher and died without opening his eyes. We never even got to say good-bye to him properly. I should be the one to watch over my mother, to protect her.â
That gave him a momentâs pause. He hadnât heard the particulars about Mr. Martinâs death. It shocked him to hear the boy speak so emotionally and vividly about its impact. He was a precocious one.
âI swear to you that Iâll keep her safe,â he said solemnly. âI shall speak with your mother and her friends about the nature of your motherâs spells. Once Iâve an idea of what symptoms
Martha Stout PhD
Laurell K. Hamilton
Aleatha Romig
Dee Carney
Nancy Thayer
Kasey Michaels
Patricia Briggs
Matt Wilk
Andrew Britton
Alys Clare