Free Mally : Signet Regency Romance (9781101568057) by Sandra Heath Page B

herself, about Mr. York. After all he was her friend, you said so yourself.”
    â€œYes, indeed I did. Mind you, I was convinced it was more than a mere friendship she had with him,
convinced.
It seems I was wrong. Oh, dear, I don’t know what to think anymore. You are
sure
she has eloped?”
    â€œWhat else can it be? She was met at the inn in Cirencester by a gentleman and went off with him. No one was forcing her.”
    â€œOh, the disgrace. What am I to say to the Clevelys? I shall never be able to hold my head up again in Llanglyn, never!”
    â€œOf course you will.”
    â€œBut Marigold, who was the other man asking about Maria then?” Mrs. Berrisford sat up suddenly as the thought struck her.
    â€œWe don’t know that he
was
asking for Maria, do we? He could have been looking for anyone. Now then, have a little sip of this, it will do you good.” Mally hurriedly picked up the glass, anxious to gloss over the uncomfortable thought of the country man.
    Mrs. Berrisford sipped the wine. “I suppose I shall have to draw myself up for the fray.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œI shall have to go back to Llanglyn and prepare for whatever. Oh dear, it’s a daunting prospect. What shall I say? When they inquire after Maria, whatever am I to say? I let them all believe she had come to stay with you, d’you see. I cannot
bear
chitter-chatter.”
    â€œThen say that Maria is with me.”
    â€œBut Marigold, I was hoping—counting upon—”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI would like you to return to Llanglyn with me. Just for a little while. It
would
be a comfort.”
    â€œThen we shall just have to brave it out together and say that we do not know where Maria is, shan’t we? I mean, it cannot be kept a secret for long anyway, and the Clevelys’ noses are always to the ground—they won’t miss a thing.”
    Mrs. Berrisford drained her glass in one gulp. “Mercy above, I feel quite faint.”
    â€œWell, when Chris asked about Maria I just said that she was visiting relatives.”
    â€œAnd what did he say to that?”
    â€œNothing, he just accepted it. Oh, I suppose we could always invent a distant aunt or something.”
    â€œ
Very
distant. On your father’s side.” Mrs. Berrisford took Mally’s untouched glass from its place on the floor. “Yes, yes, I think that is an admirable solution.”
    â€œMother, it’s only putting off the inevitable, you know.”
    â€œYes, Marigold, but maybe we’ll hear from Maria in the meantime. I will not give up hope. You
will
return with me for a while, though, won’t you?”
    â€œYes, of course I will.”
    â€œGood. At the end of this week then.”
    â€œGood heavens—so quickly?”
    â€œYes, my mind is made up. I cannot bear anticipating anything unpleasant, so the sooner I return the better I will feel. Besides, I do not much care for London.”
    Mally smiled. “All right, I will make arrangements for us to travel at the end of the week. But, Mother, I will have to tell Chris the truth, for it is not right to conceal such things from him.”
    Mrs. Berrisford nodded unhappily. “I suppose so. Oh, dear, I wish your dear father was with me now. How I curse that brute of a horse that killed him so cruelly.”
    â€œFather should not have taken that hedge in the first place; it was not the horse’s fault.”
    â€œShame on you, Marigold.” But Mrs. Berrisford smiled. “Dear James, he was so
dashing.
And so courageous.”
    And so pig-headed about hunting.
But Mally refrained from further comment. “Listen—I think that is the carriage Chris is sending for me. Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
    â€œYes, yes, my dear, you go along now. I think I shall take myself to my bed in a little while—all this worry has left me quite drained. Quite drained.” Mrs. Berrisford