The letter in Junie’s hand made a fluttering sound as her hand trembled.
My dear sister Juniper,
I do realize that caring for our aged aunt has been a trial for you this last year, especially given that you’ve taken up with that knight fellow. It is a relief to hear that she, and those around her, are alright, and that the dastardly solicitor of hers has tucked tail and run. It’s high time.
I’m writing to inform you of a most perplexing visit we received earlier this week, from a gentleman who appeared on our doorstep. It seems that an old lockbox was discovered in the vault of a bank here in town, in the name of Jasper Mordecai Sharp. The box was filled with what amounts to a treasure, Juniper, and the bank officer had a duty to visit us personally to inquire after Mumsy Abigail’s whereabouts. They delivered a key for her so that she can have access to her late husband’s fortune…
Junie’s jaw was slack. Her hands continued to tremble. Finally, she swallowed hard and wetted her lips so that she could speak.
“Mumsy?” she called.
The old woman mumbled from the sitting room where she kept herself busy with a knitting project.
“Mumsy!” she called again.
“Oh, for the Builder’s sake, Juniper, I can hear you! No reason to shout! What the devil is wrong now?”
Junie wandered from the parlour into the sitting room as if in a daze. Holding the letter in one hand, she looked her old aunt in the eyes.