“Thank you, Charles,” I said. “May I rely upon you to see to the sale?”
“I will speak to my agent today.” He looked about the room, valuing the furniture with what I suspected was an expert eye. “He will want to make an inventory.”
“I’ll take a few small pieces,” I said. “The dresser and carpet in my bedroom. Delphine will doubtless want some indispensable pot or spoon.”
“Of course,” he said.
“If there is anything you want for yourself, or that Maybelle might want, please feel free . . .”
“No,” he said. “That would not be correct, unless I deduct the value from my poor brother’s debt.”
“At least take his pistols,” I said. “He would want them to stay in the family.”
His eyes settled upon me, full of sentiment. “A thoughtful suggestion,” he said. “I will take them with pleasure.”
My shoulder had begun to ache and I longed to terminate the interview, yet I couldn’t resist one final test of my relative’s goodwill. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to take Walter off my hands,” I said.
His cheeks flushed and he gave a nervous cough. It was with difficulty that I maintained a frank, interested expression. “Manon . . .” he said, searching for words. This was one piece of his brother’s property he wanted nothing to do with. I pictured Walter running across the veranda at Chatterly to greet the guests at the annual ball. “My little nephew,” Charles might explain, while Walter rubbed mud into some elegant gentleman’s waistcoat. “Maybelle . . .” Charles continued. “She hasn’t been well . . .”
“It’s all right, Charles,” I said, taking pity on him. “You’ve no obligation to take him. Delphine is the only one who can manage him and for some reason she’s attached to him.”
“Then it would be for the best . . .” he stammered.
“It would be for the best if that child had never been born,” I said.
My brother-in-law nodded sagely. “I understand the mother has run away.”
“She has,” I said. “But I expect we will find her soon. Don’t put her name on the inventory. I don’t plan to sell her.”
He gave me a questioning look. I could no longer bear the pain in my shoulder. I eased my elbow from its support and winced as my arm fell limp across my lap. “If I have to live with Walter,” I said, “so does she.”
Part IV
En Ville
YOUR UNCLE IS persuaded that we should engage Mr. Leggett,” my aunt said. We were seated in the parlor of my cottage. It had taken me barely three weeks to be resettled in this agreeable domicile. My aunt was eager to return to town, and, as I couldn’t be expected to spend a night alone in my husband’s house, I had come down with her, leaving Rose and Delphine to pack my clothes and follow. I was propped up on pillows on the settee, and my aunt had turned the chair of Mother’s desk to face me. It was chilly outside, but we had a fire in the grate, the curtains drawn, the lamps lit.
“How could she have disappeared so completely?” I said.
“Your uncle believes she is no longer in town. His inquiries usually result in some leads, but in this case he has come up with nothing.”
“I assume Mr. Roget has been interviewed.”
“Repeatedly, though not by your uncle. They are not on speaking terms.”
“Is Mr. Leggett a trustworthy person?”
My aunt sent a dismissive puff of air through her nostrils. “None of them are trustworthy,” she said. “They are the worst sort of men. They inflate their expenses past all reason and there’s nothing to be done about it. But your uncle has employed Mr. Leggett in the past with some success. He will want twenty-five dollars in advance, against the reward.”
“And if he fails to bring her back?”
“The money is forfeit,” she explained. “There is no guarantee that he will find her. He is complaining that we have allowed too much time to pass. If she is, as your uncle suspects, making her way north, she may have gotten quite far by now. Mr. Leggett has retrieved runaways from as far away as Boston, but it takes time. Once she is in a free state, he can’t rely on cooperation from the authorities, though there are always those who will assist in a capture for a price.”
“Boston!” I said.
“It does seem unlikely,” my aunt agreed. “Mr. Leggett wants to know if she has any relatives in the North who might assist her.”
“Not that I know of,” I said. “She never spoke of anyone. Do you know where she was born?”