Page 22 of A Botanist and A Betrothal (Gentleman Scholars #4)

“W

hat is the meaning of this?" Mr. Caldwell demanded, his voice harsh, immediately enraged by Lincoln’s questions.

"What are you accusing me of?" he asked as he stood up from behind his desk. "You think I’m dealing in crooked schemes?"

Mr. Caldwell’s voice grew louder as his anger grew. "Why would I make an arrangement with two different scientists for the same land? That’s just bad business! But even if I did something so foolish, don’t I have the right to do so? This is my land, after all, isn’t it?"

"Of course, it is," Lincoln stammered, while Vesta remained silent, terrified at his side, clutching his hand.

"I have half a mind to kick you off my property and deny you access to any of my plants, but we made a deal, and I am an honest man of business.” Mr. Caldwell’s anger suddenly seemed to subside, and he cast them both a shrewd glance. “Since you’re going to take Vesta off my hands, I will keep my word, just as I promised. Once you’re married, you can have all the plants you want, but for now, get out of here. I have no interest in seeing your faces."

Lincoln and Vesta left the room quickly and without saying another word. Each caught up in their own thoughts.

Vesta was mortified.

‘Take her off his hands.’ What a horrid way of putting it. Was she really such a burden? And what was this going to mean for her future? Lincoln couldn’t possibly want her now, after all this disarray.

Who could he trust? She didn’t trust anybody, not even him.

All the less so should he trust anyone on this property. It was unlikely he even wanted to marry her any longer. Despair threatened to choke her as she followed Lincoln to the small salon where they had worked in the past.

"What do you think?" Lincoln asked her quietly. "Do you trust what he said?"

Vesta shrugged. "He’s right. He has the right to do whatever he wants with his property, and why would he bother lying about it? But what would this Horace fellow and Mr. Green have to gain from lying about a connection with Mr. Caldwell?”

“Is it possible the man is deranged?" Lincoln asked.

Vesta laughed. "Mr. Caldwell?” she asked. At Lincoln’s nod she answered. “I’ve often wondered that myself, but only because he’s cold and cruel and not like most people. But I think he’s one of the more intelligent people you might meet—if you consider making heaps of money a sign of intelligence—so I suspect he’s not deranged."

They lapsed into a strained silence as they settled onto a settee in the parlour.

"What other possibilities might there be?" Vesta asked Lincoln quietly.

"I don’t know what you ought to do, to be perfectly honest," she added when he didn’t answer her right away. "You’re right when you say that danger is lurking, but what are you to do? If you take the plants and return home against Mr. Caldwell’s wishes, you run the risk of him coming after you. And then there is the risk of whoever is causing these problems, if it has nothing to do with Mr. Caldwell, they will follow you to your institute.”

Vesta bit her lip and looked around the room before returning her gaze to stare fiercely at Lincoln.

“I don’t think you ought to quit your studies. From what you’ve told me, it’s very important that the foxglove be examined thoroughly to ascertain if it contains this digitalis substance that you think it does.”

She paused again, thinking. “Could you possibly have some of your scholarly friends join you here and help you speed up your research? That way, if it’s true, you could get it in the right hands as quickly as possible before the saboteurs ruin it completely?"

Vesta blinked in surprise as a sunny smile overcame Lincoln. He looked at her very carefully for a long moment before standing and pulling her up beside him.

She wasn’t sure why he was so delighted over her words—she didn’t think there was anything special about them—but suddenly, he picked her up in his arms and twirled her around the room, narrowly missing knocking over furniture and ending them both in a heap on the floor in fits of laughter.

It was the most light-hearted she had felt since childhood. She was shocked to discover she could experience such a light feeling, considering how much in shambles her life was at the moment.

"Will you marry me immediately?" Lincoln asked her, much to her shock.

"I—I don’t know," Vesta replied, the moment crashing down around her feet. "Don’t you think there are too many questions left unanswered to make such a serious decision right now?"

"Well, I didn’t think so," Lincoln countered. "But if you think so, then we shall continue to wait. You had a wonderful suggestion," he added. "I will return home immediately and see which of the fellows is available to come and help." He helped her regain her feet and then left the room without a backward glance.

Vesta sighed. She had said the wrong thing once more. But what was she supposed to say to such a question?

She didn’t trust her stepfather to give them her dowry. They hadn’t even had a chance to ask about it again. She didn’t trust that he was telling her the truth about anything, not the plants, not Doctor Horace, and certainly not about her dowry.

What was Lincoln supposed to do with her if he had her on his hands without any means to support either of them? He had already assured her that his friends would welcome them into their home, but was that the right solution for either of them?

Vesta wanted to be involved in finding a solution for heart disease—she didn’t even really know what heart disease was, but it felt like the most worthy pursuit she could have for her life at that point.

Never mind the possibility of a treasure—they never did ask Mr. Caldwell about that, either. Of course, he didn’t volunteer anything about it, but Vesta didn’t believe he wasn’t involved, and therefore she needed to remain there in order to keep the scholars as informed as possible about any connection with Caldwell and their treasure hunt.

With a sigh, Vesta dusted off her skirts and headed for her room. Perhaps a quiet rest would restore her spirits. As she stepped into her bedchamber, she was startled to see her maid, who appeared to be searching through a bureau. That wasn’t so very strange, but the expression on the maid’s face was what made it particularly noteworthy.

"Oh, Miss, I didn’t expect to see you here!" the maid, obviously flustered, stammered out an excuse. "I was just looking for anything that might need darning or repairs."

"Surely you realize they wouldn’t be in that drawer, Maisie," Vesta said. "Aren’t you the one who collects those things regularly? Usually, you have a basket that always contains anything that needs repair."

"Oh, yes, yes, you’re right. You’re quite right, Miss. Thank you for reminding me."

"What’s going on, Maisie?" Vesta asked. “What were you really looking for?”

"Oh, nothing, Miss, I swear it to you!"

"Why don’t I believe you?" Vesta countered. "I’ve known you for years. You don’t lie well," she added. "Now tell me the truth, and I will do my best to help you out of whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into."

Much to Vesta's shock, the maid burst into tears. "I didn’t mean to do it, Miss, I swear it! I didn’t think anything bad would happen, and they offered me so much money, and my family needs it, and I just didn’t think anyone would get hurt—and no one did get hurt, so really, it’s not so very terrible, is it?"

Vesta stared at the other girl. "You’d best start at the beginning and explain it all to me carefully." Horror dawned within her soul as the maid's tale unfolded.

"They offered me money, Miss, to tell them whenever your doctor was present and whatever I could find out about what you and he were doing. And so I told them, but then every time I did, that’s when the greenhouse would get messed up, and I didn’t know that was going to happen."

"So then why were you still searching in my belongings if you were feeling sorry for your involvement?"

"Oh, Miss, I am ever so sorry, I am,” the maid said in a halting, sobbing voice. “But they said they would go to my house next if I didn’t—"

"What do you mean, 'go to your house'?"

"They threatened me mum, Miss! What could I do? They had already given me so much money, and me mum was so happy for the money, and then they said I’d have to give it back, and they would kick her out of her house. I couldn’t let that happen, could I, Miss? I had to keep searching. Being sorry didn’t matter."

"I’m going to have to think about this for a while," Vesta said quietly. "Could you please go ask the housekeeper to find you something else to do, because I cannot have you in my room right now."

"Oh, Miss, tell me you won’t turn me off! I have nowhere else to go, and me mum needs the money! You know it’s—" The maid gulped down a sob as she tried to regain her composure. "You don’t even understand because you have all of this!" Maisie cried.

"No, Maisie, it’s you who doesn’t understand. I have nothing. I’m the stepdaughter, remember?" she added sadly as she pushed the girl from her room and closed the door, locking it behind her.

Vesta knew she had no one to rely on. Despite Lincoln’s sudden proposal, she couldn’t even trust him because she knew he didn’t trust her. And why would he? As it turned out, it was her own servant who had been the source of trouble.

She ought to have asked the maid who had paid her. It was obviously not the maid’s idea to begin with.

She determined in her heart that after she had a good cry, she would get to the bottom of the entire mess.