Amy Snow Read Free Page B

it was some time before I returned to my study to open the package that Mr. Ditherington had entrusted to me. It was quite large, as you may recall, and I expected it to contain a great many legal papers.”
    I could not recall the package, distracted as I had been during the reading of the will. But if there were some final word from her, I would give everything I owned for it.
    â€œIn fact, it contained very little for me. A banker’s draft for the amount stated and a letter containing very kind sentiments for the school’s future and my matrimonial happiness. The letter also contained a request. And . . . there was this.” He handed the parcel to me at last.
    â€œAmy Snow” was written on the outside in Aurelia’s familiar handwriting, in Aurelia’s favorite violet ink. I could hardly believe it. I looked up at Mr. Clay’s earnest face.
    â€œThe request was that I should deliver this to you in person before you left Hatville Court, and let no one else know that I had done so. I could not let her down.”
    â€œShe has thought of everything,” I said in a low voice.
    â€œYou meant everything to her. I wish you luck, Miss Snow. I hope you will count me as one friend, at least, wherever you may go.”
    He bowed and I curtsied, then we took our leave. He wished me Godspeed and I blessed his endeavors for the school, strongly suspecting that I would never see good Mr. Clay again.
    I would not linger. I was dressed now and half packed. If I could leave before encountering the Vennaways, it would spare us all one last discomfort. But first I was impatient for some word of further explanation. Hastily, I opened the parcel and withdrew an envelope. The envelope contained a sheaf of money that I did not count and a letter, which I read at once. I dared not risk lingering to read it in the house; even in my room I could not rely upon privacy. So I stayed in the copse, in the half-light, reading and shivering and quite unable to believe the words before me.
    Then I hurried back inside. I finished packing, buckled my carpet bag, and brushed my wayward cloud of dark hair, readying myself for the road.
    My heart nearly jumped into my mouth when the bedroom door suddenly burst open. I spun round to see Lord Vennaway stalking towards me, face gray, mustache shivering on his lip.
    â€œYou!” he rasped, running a hand through his hair, plunging it into a pocket, withdrawing it in a fist, pocketing it again. “You are here and you should not be, you should never have been. Who are you, anyway? Taking advantage of my girl’s soft heart and innocence. Wheedling your way into her affections. Staying here where you were not welcome. Schemer! Vagabond! Baseborn! You should have died, not her. We treasured her, but she was blighted like a rose. And you were poison in her ear. You were unfit company for her. She might have lived if you had let her be but you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t !”
    I had never heard him speak so. In fact, I rarely heard him speak at all—we avoided each other as much as possible in the usual run of things. His wife was more often my tormentor; I had heard from her countless times that the wrong child thrived, that Aurelia had been destined for greatness, that I should have been left to die in the snow. Lord Vennaway, by contrast, was merely a disapproving presence—a rain cloud over a picnic. The reality of the man, here in my room, angry, tragic, and raving, was deeply alarming. I backed away from him.
    â€œWhat have you there?” he demanded, pushing past me and seizing my carpet bag.
    I gasped in horror. The precious package! I must not lose it before I had even inspected its contents. I must not let Aurelia down at the very outset!
    At least the envelope was safe in my skirt. Instinctively, my hand went to it and I felt its papery crackle. Lord Vennaway stared at me and for an awful moment I thought he would grab my hand, find