“He has abandoned Marigold,” Uncle said softly. Mr. Eastbrook, abandoned Marigold. Because . . . because of what had happened. Because of me. I turned away and shook my head, which only aggravated my injury. “You cannot be sure. Perhaps he had other reasons for leaving.” Desperation clawed at my voice. “Mr. Cartwell came himself to tell me.” My eyes flashed back to his face. Marigold’s father had come here? “Did he . . . ?” Uncle raised one hand. “He said nothing of you.”
