Page 25 of A Botanist and A Betrothal (Gentleman Scholars #4)

L incoln held Vesta close in the darkness of the cave, listening intently. The sound of crashing through the underbrush had faded, but he wasn't ready to risk moving yet. His heart still pounded from their flight, though whether from exertion or fear for Vesta's safety, he couldn't say.

"Do you think they're gone?" Vesta whispered against his shoulder.

"Let's wait a bit longer to be certain," he murmured back. "Did you see anything of our pursuers?"

She shook her head. "Only shadows. But there were at least two of them." She hesitated, then added, "One of them... the way they moved reminded me of Kimberley."

Lincoln tensed. "Your stepsister? Are you certain?"

"No," Vesta admitted. "It was just something about how they held themselves. But Kimberley and Nancy have been hovering around the greenhouse more than usual lately. I caught them watching us yesterday from the upstairs window."

"I thought they despised anything to do with plants or science."

"They do. That's what makes it so strange." Vesta's fingers tightened on his arm. "And they've been whispering together more than usual. I came upon them in the library yesterday, but they stopped talking as soon as they saw me."

They waited in tense silence for what felt like hours but was likely only minutes. Finally, when the woods had been quiet for some time, Lincoln cautiously peered out. The late afternoon sun slanted through the trees, casting long shadows that could hide any number of threats.

"We should make our way back," he said quietly. "But we'll take the long way around, just to be safe."

They emerged from the cave slowly, Lincoln keeping Vesta behind him as he scanned their surroundings. The path they'd torn through the undergrowth in their flight was clearly visible, but there was no sign of their pursuers.

As they picked their way carefully back toward the house, Vesta suddenly gripped his arm. "Lincoln," she whispered, "I need to tell you something about Maisie."

He slowed his pace but kept moving, making sure to stay alert to their surroundings. "Your maid? What about her?"

"I found her searching my room this morning. She confessed that someone's been paying her to spy on us." Vesta's voice shook slightly. "To report when you'd be here and what we were doing."

Lincoln stopped then, turning to face her. "Who's been paying her?"

"She claims she doesn't know their names, but..." Vesta bit her lip. "The description sounds like Mr. Green. I should have asked more questions but I was just too upset in the moment. It seems to me there has to be more involved."

"This just keeps getting stranger and stranger,” Lincoln agreed.

"And my stepsisters. I don't know how to explain why but I feel like they have to be involved in something somehow. They've been asking strange questions about your work. Nancy even pretended interest in the medicinal properties of plants yesterday." Vesta gave a humorless laugh. "Nancy, who can't tell a rose from a daisy."

“Do you think you ought to question your maid once more? It seems she ought to know more than she has told you thus far.”

Vesta wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think questioning anyone is a strength of mine.”

Lincoln laughed. “Is it anyone’s?”

“Seems to me a scholar would be much better at it.” The way she looked at him from under her eyelashes as she said that did unscholarly things to Lincoln’s midsection and he had to concentrate diligently to keep his focus on the conversation.

“Are you saying you’d like me to help you speak to her?”

“I would very much appreciate that,” she replied immediately.

Lincoln stared for a moment before nodding. “Very well, have her brought to us and we’ll see what we can ascertain.”

A few minutes later Lincoln paced outside Mr. Caldwell's study as he waited for the maid to be brought to them, his mind churning with what Vesta had previously told him about her maid.

"Are you certain you wish to confront her together?" he asked quietly. "She is your servant, after all."

"Was my servant," Vesta corrected, her voice equally soft but firm. "And yes, I want you there. The damage was done to your work after all."

He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently before releasing it as footsteps approached. The housekeeper appeared, practically dragging a weeping Maisie.

"In here," Lincoln said, gesturing to the small parlor where he and Vesta had worked on their research.

Better to have this conversation away from Mr. Caldwell's domain even if the man wasn’t present.

Once the door closed behind them, Maisie collapsed into tears. "I'm so sorry, Miss! They said they'd turn my mother out—"

"Who said?" Lincoln interrupted, keeping his voice level despite his anger. "You claimed not to know their names before."

Maisie's sobs quieted slightly as she glanced between them. "It was that gentleman, the one who visited. Doctor Horace. He found me at the market, said he knew about my mother's debts..."

"And Mr. Green?" Vesta asked. "Was he involved as well?"

The maid nodded miserably. "He'd come to the village inn. Miss Kimberley and Miss Nancy would arrange the meetings—"

"My stepsisters?" Vesta's composure cracked slightly. "They were part of this?"

"I didn’t want to tell you, Miss. I hoped they would save my position. But they thought it great fun," Maisie admitted. "Said it would teach you not to put on airs with your scientific pursuits."

She twisted her apron between nervous fingers. "They'd tell Mr. Green when Doctor Welby was likely to be working in the greenhouse..."

Lincoln's jaw clenched. The greenhouse vandalism suddenly made more sense.

"What were you searching for in Miss Lowell's room?"

"Doctor Horace wanted your notes, sir. About the plants. And..." she hesitated.

"And?" Lincoln prompted.

"Any papers about treasure. He said there'd be maps, or poems maybe."

Lincoln and Vesta exchanged glances. So Doctor Horace knew about the treasure hunt too. But how?

"Did you find anything?" Vesta asked.

Maisie shook her head. "Nothing like what they wanted. Just your pressed flowers, Miss, and some books you were reading."

Lincoln watched Vesta's cheeks pink at this revelation but kept his focus on the maid. "How did you report to them?"

"Notes left at the inn. Miss Kimberley would pass them along." Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "I never meant for anyone to get hurt! They just said they needed information..."

"Information that led directly to my research being destroyed," Lincoln said coldly.

"I didn't know they'd do that!" Maisie protested. "They just wanted to know when you'd be working there..."

The pieces clicked into place. His arrival times, his work schedule, when the greenhouse would be empty – all passed along through this network of amateur spies and saboteurs.

"Please, Miss," Maisie turned to Vesta. "I know I can't stay on, but my mother..."

"You should have thought of that before betraying my trust," Vesta said quietly.

But Lincoln heard the hurt beneath her composed exterior. He wished he could offer her some comfort.

“And what about the Misses Caldwell? How were they involved?” Lincoln asked.

“They just seemed to find it all very amusing, Doctor, I don’t think they thought there’d be any harm,” Maisie said through her tears.

“Until today,” Vesta said quietly. “There’s nothing amusing about being chased through the woods.”

"That's why they were able to follow us," Lincoln realized. "Your stepsisters must have told them about our usual walking route."

They sent Maisie away with the housekeeper, the girl still weeping. Once alone, Vesta's shoulders slumped slightly.

"Your stepsisters," Lincoln said gently. "I'm sorry."

She gave a hollow laugh. "I'm not surprised, really. They've always hated me. But to actively assist in sabotaging your work, that’s a new low even for them."

Lincoln wanted to pull her into his arms, to comfort her, but settled for taking her hand again. "At least we know now. Doctor Horace is behind both the vandalism and the spying. But how did he know about the treasure hunt?"

"And why involve Mr. Green? Why not just do his dirty work himself?"

"Questions we'll need answered," Lincoln agreed. He squeezed her fingers. "But first, we need to decide what to do about your stepsisters' involvement."

Vesta's expression hardened with determination. "We tell Mr. Caldwell everything. If he wants this arrangement between us to work, he needs to control his daughters."

He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. "This has gone too far." He turned to Vesta. "At least some of the specimens need to be moved to safety. I have friends with a small estate — not connected to the Institute — where I could keep them until we sort this out."

"But Mr. Caldwell—" Vesta started.

"We'll still need to speak with him, get everything in writing as we discussed. But first we need Maisie to tell Mr. Caldwell everything she’s told us. Perhaps if she’s honest with him about all of this, he’ll have know what to do about her, and he’ll believe us about everything that has been going on around here."

Later, after seeing Maisie escorted to Mr. Caldwell's study, Lincoln and Vesta stood in the greenhouse. Through the glass walls, they could see Kimberley and Nancy walking the garden path, pausing occasionally to peer in their direction.

"They're not even trying to be subtle anymore," Vesta murmured.

Lincoln began examining which specimens were most crucial to protect, keeping his voice low. "Sidney will help us protect them," he mused. "The mapmaker has surprised me with his abilities today."

"When will you move them?" Vesta asked, purposefully shuffling some papers as though they were discussing ordinary research notes.

"As soon as possible. Today's chase makes it clear we can't delay." He turned to her with a slight smile. "Though I don't relish having to dig them up in the dark."

"I'll help," she offered immediately, then laughed at his startled expression. "I do know which end of a spade goes in the ground, Doctor Welby."

Her teasing lifted some of the tension from his shoulders. "We'll need to be careful," he said, glancing again at the stepsisters who had paused to whisper together. "If they are working with Horace and Green..."

"They usually retire early," Vesta said. "And they sleep like the dead after their evening cordial. As long as we wait until after midnight..."

Lincoln couldn't help but admire her strategic thinking. They would need to be careful, calculating exactly which specimens to move and how to transport them safely. But with Vesta's help, perhaps they could preserve enough of his research to continue his work, even if Horace and Green — and the Caldwell sisters — were determined to interfere.

What he didn't say was how grateful he was for her steady presence beside him, her quick mind and willing hands. Even in this crisis, she thought first of the research, of how to protect their work.

"We should fetch Sidney now," he said, already mentally calculating what they would need. "The sooner we secure some specimens, the better I'll feel."

Vesta nodded, already moving to help him prepare while maintaining the appearance of ordinary research work. Outside, the sun was setting, painting the greenhouse in shades of gold and amber. Beyond the glass, Kimberley and Nancy had finally moved on, their heads still bent together in whispered conversation.

They had much to do before darkness fell, but Lincoln felt more hopeful than he had since the chase began. Whatever Horace and Green were plotting, and whatever role the stepsisters played in it, they wouldn't succeed in destroying all his work. Not with Vesta by his side.