Where Love Dwells by Delia Parr Read Free Book Online Page B

she could not really see through the misty drizzle more than a square or two ahead of them to determine if anyone else was out and about.
    Emma patted her son’s arm and smiled. “You have every right to be concerned and you have every right to be upset with Wryn, but please don’t worry. I’m certain she hasn’t gotten into any trouble yet.”
    ----
    An hour later, after Emma and her son had followed Wryn’s trail from one shop to another down one side of Main Street all the way to Emerson’s Hotel at the far end, Emma was no longer smiling.
    Neither was Mark.
    In point of fact, Mark was coldly silent when they left the hotel and headed for the General Store.
    â€œIt’s not your fault,” she said. “At least she didn’t register at Emerson’s, too.”
    â€œIf she had, she would have insisted on a suite. You can be sure of that,” he gritted. “We should never have brought her here. Never. We should have left her at home. She can cook better than women twice her age, and she’s proven she’s certainly old enough to be able to fend for herself otherwise for a few weeks.”
    â€œThat may be true,” Emma replied. “But if you had left her home, how much debt do you think she could have accumulated in your name while you were gone?”
    â€œI’m not certain, but at least it would have been in my name instead of yours,” he grumbled. “I’m so embarrassed that she’s done this to you. I’ll . . . I’ll find a way to pay you back. I will. It may take some time—”
    â€œIt’s not your fault,” Emma repeated more insistently as they started to cross the street. She paused for a moment until they made their way around a rather large puddle of mud, since she had already enjoyed the dubious pleasure of sliding into one earlier today. “It’s not your debt, either,” she continued when they had put the mud puddle behind them. “It’s Wryn’s debt, which means she’ll have to pay me back, not you.”
    â€œAnd just exactly how do you expect a fifteen-year-old girl topay for a new bonnet from the millinery, not one but two boxes of Belgian chocolates, a French lace shawl of some sort, and a . . . a beaded reticule?” he charged.
    â€œShe’ll have to work it off,” Emma stated as they mounted the steps to the planked sidewalk in front of the General Store.
    He threw one hand up into the air. “Work it off? She’ll be thirty years old before she could possibly work off the sum she owes you.”
    â€œAt least,” Emma quipped.
    He stopped just outside the door to the store and shook his head. “I still don’t understand why all those shopkeepers let her put her purchases on your account.”
    â€œSince we haven’t passed a single other soul so far, I’d venture to say it’s been a very slow day for most of the businesses. Wryn was probably but one of a handful of shoppers today, which means the shopkeepers would have been anxious for any kind of sale.”
    â€œStill—”
    â€œCandlewood isn’t Albany, Mark,” Emma continued, anxious to get into the General Store to see what kind of damage Wryn had done there to her account. “The town may have changed a lot since you’ve been gone, but it’s still a small town. Everyone here knows Hill House, and they know me. Most everyone has heard by now that you and Warren and Benjamin are all bringing your families home for a visit, too. Even if you hadn’t driven down Main Street earlier with her today, they wouldn’t suspect Wryn wasn’t who she said she was—part of our family.”
    â€œThe gossipmongers are still as ravenous as ever, I suppose.”
    She chuckled. “That much hasn’t changed, but like I’ve warned you all along, Wryn’s little misadventure today isn’t something I’d like to have them chew