The father frowned. “What makes you think that the two disappearances are even connected? My daughter did not know your sister.”
“That is true,” Edwin nodded, taking note of the father’s negative manner of speech. “But I was wondering if perhaps, your daughter was courted by someone?”
“No.” His response was short, stern.
“What about any letters she might have received from a gentleman?” Edwin asked, and the moment that question passed through his lips, he knew that their time here had finished.
“My daughter did not receive any unwanted letters from any gentlemen, if that is what you are assuming,” the father growled. “My daughter is a fine young lady. If there was a gentleman in her life, we would have known about it. Is that not right, Elizabeth?” he asked his wife, who merely nodded, not saying a single word.
“I am certain that Miss Geraldine is a splendid young lady,” Edwin assured the man. “I am merely asking if you noticed anything… different about her behavior lately before the time of her disappearance.”
“Different how?” the father asked, and only this time he did show openness to cooperate. Edwin immediately jumped at the opportunity.
“Well, different,” Edwin shrugged, feeling guilty himself that he was asking the same question that others should have asked him. The answer would have been a painful no. “Had she become suddenly more cheerful or more melancholic perhaps?”
“Not that I know of,” he said.
However, he said it in such a way that assured Edwin’s father would rarely notice such things in young ladies. Mother perhaps would. However, this mother could not say a single word. Edwin did not even try to address her directly because he was certain that the father would interfere and offer a reply himself. There would be no use.
“My sister received letters from a secret admirer,” Edwin admitted. It hurt him to be so open about it, but he knew that he was sharing it for the greater good. “We fear that he was leading her on by sending her love letters and then convincing her to run away with him.”
“Well,” the father stood up, sounding insulted, “that may beyoursister, but that is not what my daughter is like, Your Grace.”
Edwin bit his tongue not to say anything to that. He could understand grief. He could understand rage. He could understand that devastating feeling of helplessness. He tried not to hold it against the man. He did not mean to insult Rachel. He was merely acting in the only way he knew how at a time when he was hurt and bewildered.
“Now, if that is all…” the father continued, and Edwin knew that there was nothing else he would find out here.
“We thank you for your time,” Edwin stood up, and Lydia followed suit.
After quick and awkward goodbyes, they found themselves in their carriage, heading back to Lydia’s home.
“We didn’t find out anything,” she pointed out more to express her displeasure than to remind him of what happened.
“I know,” he sighed. “The father was too defensive to talk about anything regarding his daughter. And her mother refused to talk at all.”
“She was obviously afraid to say anything because of her husband,” Lydia told him.
He thought about it for a moment then concluded it was so. Still, he believed that if there was anything worth being told, the father would tell him. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps the disappearances of the two ladies had nothing in common, other than the fact that they were both shy young ladies without many friends. That much the father was willing to divulge from the onset then he suddenly closed up.
“We should continue going through jewelers,” he suggested. “We didn’t find out anything from Mr. Emerson, but there are still places in town we haven’t visited.”
“We can do that tomorrow,” Lydia nodded.
“I can come for you in the morning?” he suggested again, wondering if perhaps he was, once again, overstepping that boundary that his mother reminded him of that evening.
“Come,” she smiled. “We need to cover all the jewelers left in town. We need to be more expedient and more efficient.”
He loved how she was eager to get everything done in a single day although such a thing was an impossible feat. Still, her enthusiasm was contagious. He needed some of that in his life. He needed it in his search for Rachel.
The carriage stopped, and he helped her out. Her hand lingered in his for one moment longer than usual.
“Until tomorrow,” he said, gazing at her, unable to take his eyes off of her.
“Until tomorrow,” she echoed his own words back at him.
He kissed her hand softly then released her from his grip. He watched her leave then disappear through the door of her home. He realized that she had walked through another door. The door to his heart. And that realization frightened him almost as much as never finding Rachel.
CHAPTER13