The Dark Beyond Moura by Virginia Coffman

Author:Virginia Coffman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: virginia, coffman
Publisher: Candlewood Books

XIII

But after all is said, nothing was either done or suspected immediately by anyone except me, and I preferred to bury my own suspicions after that encounter on the island; to bury them, at least, until Sanson could offer an explanation. I devoutly hoped that he would. I was susceptible to almost any excuse from him. Besides, I was too busy those next, rapidly passing days.

The week was scarcely out before the entire household was over turned and I was given instructions to prepare for the addition of two new members to the household, that is to say, of Michael Sanson and his ward. The day before the Carnival ended, Julie and Bartrum were to be married. The lovers had won Michael over. By what methods I preferred not to ask myself.

I was too concerned with cleaning and refurbishing the palazzo’s main apartments to think much about this strange, sudden move of Sanson’s, or his anxiety to get into this house. Still, if there was my special charm about the house, any secret attraction in it, he would hardly have permitted Elvira Huddle to live here so long. Or was it something Elvira herself had left here that Sanson was seeking? I had not forgotten Maria-Elisa’s torn journal, which had vanished.

I began to hate, even to fear this line of thought, which involved Michael. At night I dreamed of it, of Michael searching, Michael standing over Elvira’s bed, looking down at the sleeping woman …

I always awakened before I could be sure that he had or had not taken that deadly step of feeding the woman a final dose of the powders.

By day I knew it was absurd, and a treacherous requital of his kindness to me. Curiously enough, even with my suspicions, my feelings for him increased in spite of myself. He was direct and imperious and not at all warm to me for a few days after that near quarrel we had at San Michele. But I could not turn my feelings to indifference merely because he appeared indifferent to me. I had given him grounds for his manner by my own mistrust of him.

I asked Master Bartrum one day where the family would live, after the wedding, as some of the staff and I were busy putting sheets and coverlets on a newly cleaned and charming little apartment for Julie. Bartrum strolled around the room, complained of the smell of garbage from the canal below the narrow balcony and took up one of Julie’s delicate perfume flasks, sprinkling the expensive stuff around lavishly.

“But, of course, we shall all live here, Anne. What could be cozier?”

This bland question I took to be ironic, but I did not say so. “Very well, Sir. But since the wedding is only a matter of weeks away, will Miss Julie be remaining in this apartment?”

“Good Gad, no! We shall have Mother’s apartments. My esteemed father-in-law will move into smaller quarters. As Cobb says, one wonders why the fellow moved into Mother’s room for such a brief time.

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