Yield Not To Misfortune (The Underwood Mysteries Book 5) Read Free Page A

like rabid dogs.”
    “Believe me, I’d sooner face a rabid dog than frustrated motherhood.  I don’t think you fully comprehend the situation, my friend.  If this girl is an impostor, you will be wrenching Mrs Woodforde’s child from her for the second time.  All the concentrated hatred that she felt for her husband will be doubled and thrown at you.  Hell hath no fury, Underwood!”
    “Ah, but I could be restoring her child to her, George,” he countered reasonably, apparently unmoved by the dire warnings. It did not occur to him that the Constable’s opposition had the effect of pushing him in entirely the other direction. In the space of seconds he had altered his stance from reluctance to determination. Perhaps it was not only Gratten who felt a competitive edge to their relationship.
    “You could – but do you really believe it to be so?  And even if she is the missing daughter, she has spent the past twenty years having her mind poisoned by a vindictive, bitter man.  A man who was capable of tearing her sobbing from her mother’s arms and keeping them apart for two decades.  Do you honestly think he has had anything good to tell the child about her mother?”
    Gratten had a valid point.  Lydia – if she was the real Lydia – had been subjected to years and years of her father telling her all sorts of lies about her mother.  It stood to reason he wasn’t going to tell her anything good, otherwise how would he justify keeping them apart?  He had obviously only relented now so that they could collect the money.  Lydia would probably show a pleasant enough face at first, but who knew what resentments were churning in her brain-washed head?  She could be severely mentally damaged by her upbringing.  It was hard to imagine what twenty years of vitriol could do to a child and young woman.  Underwood could very well have been delivering a vengeful murderer into Mrs Woodforde’s trusting hands.
    “There is one small thing you can do for me, Sir George,” said Underwood, casting a wary look towards the door in case Verity had left her studio and was on her way back to join them. He was not yet ready to admit to his wife that he had decided to undertake the task given to him by Lady Hartley-Wells.
    “Yes,” prompted Gratten briskly, alert to finding himself making a promise he didn’t want to keep, “What is it?”
    “In your official capacity could you write a letter to the authorities in Bridgetown, Barbados, asking about Lydia and her father?  It seems they have been living there for the past ten years or so, safe, no doubt, in the knowledge that the unfortunate Mrs Woodforde could not afford to pursue them that far.”
    “That would make an excellent starting point for the investigation, Underwood.  It so happens that I have living there, a friend of my school years, with whom I maintain a sporadic correspondence.  He might, perhaps, aid our search for a father and daughter going by the name of Woodforde.”
    “We may find something even more useful, my friend.  Lydia claims that her father’s death is the reason she has finally been allowed to return to England.”
    “Woodforde is dead?” Sir George asked in surprise.
    “I don’t believe a word of it,” answered Underwood dismissively, “I suspect that he is not only alive and kicking, but here in England, keeping an eye on his daughter.  This is all about the money and nothing to do with daughterly affection.”
    “Then why on earth are you helping her?  Surely Mrs Woodforde would be better for never having met the girl, if all she is interested in is her inheritance.”
    “Some things are more important that money, sir, and I can only hope that Lydia discovers that in spite of her father’s machinations.”
    “Quite, but if she does not, you could be storing up future heartache for a woman who has only asked to hold her beloved child in her arms once more.”
    “That is a risk, I admit, and I will, of course, warn Mrs