Read Online Outrageous Fortune by Patricia Wentworth - Free Book Online Page A

Riddell—but I don’t know who you are.”
    â€œI’m Caroline Leigh. I’ve got a message from the Elston cottage hospital. May I come in?”
    Nesta Riddell had no intention of talking about the Elston cottage hospital at Min’s front door. She stepped back, let Caroline pass her and, shutting the door, showed the way into the parlour. Caroline turned to face her, flushed with success. There, beside the hearth, was the coalscuttle, as bright as a new penny. She held out the bill.
    â€œI think you dropped this bill. Sister asked me to give it to you.”
    Nesta glanced at it, frowned, and crushed it in her hand.
    â€œThank you—you needn’t have troubled; it didn’t matter.”
    â€œOh, but I was coming to see you anyhow.”
    â€œYou were coming to see me? What for?”
    Caroline stayed silent. Her feeling of success drained away. She felt as if she were on the edge of saying something very important. Once she had said it, she would not be able to take it back. Yet she must say it. Only what it was that she must say she did not really know.
    Then she said it.
    â€œWhere’s Jim?”
    Nesta’s hand closed hard upon the crumpled bill. Jim— Jim … Jim wasn’t here, thank goodness. It was no more than ten minutes since he had barged out of the house. Jim! She’d teach other women to come after her husband. She repeated the name in a most offensive voice.
    â€œJim?”
    Caroline coloured brightly.
    â€œMrs Riddell— please I must see him—because I think he is my cousin, Jim Randal. The sister said—”
    â€œWhat does she know about it? He’s my husband.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    Nesta laughed angrily.
    â€œWhat do you suppose?”
    â€œThe sister said—”
    â€œAnd I say, what does she know about it?”
    â€œPlease let me speak. The sister said there was a piece of a letter in his pocket with the signature Caroline. I’m Caroline, and I sent him a letter signed just like that, so you see—”
    Nesta’s manner changed. She smoothed away her frown and said in her best company manner,
    â€œIt’s a pity you’ve had so much trouble for nothing. The letter was from a Miss Caroline Bussell, who is a cousin of mine.”
    Dejection flowed in upon Caroline like a fog. It all came out so pat—Miss Caroline Bussell—a cousin of mine..… She couldn’t have invented a name like Caroline Bussell all in one flashing instant.
    She lifted her head as if to get above the fog and asked,
    â€œHave you got the letter here?”
    â€œNo, I haven’t. I don’t keep old torn bits of paper.”
    â€œIf I could have seen it—” said Caroline very earnestly. She was pressing her hands together, palm to palm, and finger to finger. Her eyes under her little brown tweed cap, the bright clear brown of peaty water, gazed pleadingly at Nesta. Her hair was the same bright colour.
    Nesta did not answer in words. She smiled a little.
    â€œIf you would lend me a pencil—if I could write my name—you’d know if it was the same.”
    â€œDo you think I don’t know my own husband?” said Nesta.
    What did one say to that—what could one say? Of course she must know her own husband. Caroline’s hopes was a pricked bubble. She had made a fool of herself to a woman with a rasping voice and eyes like bits of tin.
    She began to go slowly towards the door. She was wearing a loose brown tweed coat. She hugged it round her as if she were cold.
    Nesta stood aside to let her pass, but just on the threshold Caroline turned, her colour changing brightly.
    â€œHave you got a photograph of your husband?”
    â€œNo, I haven’t.”
    â€œNot even a snapshot?”
    â€œI’ve said no, haven’t I?”
    Caroline rested her hand upon the jamb of the door. Something in her would not take Nesta’s no; she couldn’t tell why.