Page 84 of A Mismatch Made in London
“Will you be wanting to return to London?” Father asked.
“Yes, Father, if that is all right with you.” I almost said, “And since no one here needs me.”
It was embarrassing how much I needed to be needed. I felt almost as if I didn’t exist except to help other people. But that did not seem a very healthy way of thinking.
“I suppose if your mother says it’s all right, you can go back to London. And your aunt? Will Mrs. Kendall welcome you back?”
“I believe so.”
“You must write to her first,” Father said.
“Yes, Father.”
“If she is willing to welcome you back, then you may go.”
That would mean I would have to wait a few more days, for it would take some time to send a letter to London and for my aunt to write me back. At best, it would take three days to hear back.
I returned to the writing desk and wrote a letter to Mrs. Kendall. I would walk to the village in the morning and post it.
I went to bed late but had trouble falling asleep. After tossing and turning for a long time, I forced myself to pray prayers such as, “Lord God, I know You are able to keep Jeremy safe and to save Juliet from this trouble, so I cast my cares on You and trust You to be faithful to us.” I remembered Scriptures verses about trusting in the Lord with all our hearts, the faithfulness and love of God, the fact that I could walk through fire and not be consumed. I also recalled how Daniel’s friends said that they would only believe in the one true God and never bow to an idol, even if they were killed. They were thrown into the fiery furnace, only to be rescued, unharmed. And I fell asleep.
Jeremy searched London for two days, finally tracking down Wallcroft as he exited the front door of his rented townhouse.
His eyes widened when he saw Jeremy. He held up his hands and said, “I haven’t done anything.”
“Walk with me,” Jeremy said, taking the man’s arm and steering him down the sidewalk. “I believe I informed you of the consequences of continuing to malign my sister’s good name.”
“I have said nothing, nothing.” He looked and sounded desperate.
“Then you will be very sorry to hear that someone has been spreading lies about my sister. Do you know who that might be?”
Wallcroft shook his head.
“I will be looking for anyone who might be repeating the lies and the injustices done to my sister. I can count on you to spread the word, can I not?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And where is Fairweather now?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe you.” Jeremy stepped in front of Wallcroft and blocked his way.
“I don’t know anything, but I know he has a house in Shropshire.”
“Where does he stay when he’s in London?” Jeremy already knew the answer to that but wanted to see if Wallcroft would be honest.
“152 Sullivan Street.”
He was telling the truth.
“But I haven’t seen him in a few days. I don’t want any trouble, so I keep away from him.”
“That is the first wise thing you’ve done.” Jeremy let go of his arm, and Wallcroft flinched.
“Do I need to take care of this one for you?” A large hulking man was standing just behind them.
Wallcroft spun around, holding up his hands.
