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Chapter eight

“Sit down, Tessa. You look faint.”

I did as told.

Tobias opened the door to the kitchen and shouted. “Tea, Fredrickson! Posthaste.”

“Right, sir. But a moment,” the woman's voice filtered down the hall.

How could Tobias be so composed? “Are you not stunned to see your name listed?”

“At this point? No. I am not. I’m not surprised by anything anymore. Father and Samuel clearly had some doings here, what exactly?”

“Why is your name on that list?” I wanted to know.

“Because I’m a Chinworth, why else?”

Mrs. Fredrickson brought in the tea and set it beside the pile of evidence.

I moved to pour, but Tobias stayed me with his hand. “No, let me.” He filled a teacup, added cream, and set it before me. “Drink up. You need steadying.”

“Is being a Chinworth so dangerous?”

“I think we know the answer to that. But here, I am more concerned that Audlington’s name is there.” He sent me a significant look. “I begin to think dear cousin Joseph was right to advise a new surname for you.”

Why was Patrick’s name on the list too? He was long gone. Why was there a list at all? I recalled how Tobias reacted when he learned my dead husband’s name. He’d recognized it. A coincidence? A mere memory from the newspapers? Or was there a connection between them?

My husband had been innocent, so I thought. Samuel was certainly not. Tobias had stepped away from doing his father’s bidding—but how much had he done for him? And had he been aware of what he had been doing? Or the ramifications?

I swallowed more tea as Tobias shuffled through the other papers and found something else of interest. “A list of items. Specifically, weapons.” He set it down and paced away from the table. “I brought you and Cecily here to get away from danger. Seems impossible to escape it.”

“What have you—or anyone else on this list to do with weapons?”

“Tessa, I wish I knew.” He loosened his cravat. “I wonder why Cummins returned here when he ought to be attended by a physician?”

I set my cup down and folded my hands. Tobias was right. Danger lurked, even here. “He himself is under a threat.”

“I believe you are right. I need to speak with my father. If he would talk.” Resolution sparked in his eyes. “I need to know why he was so dead-set on my leaving Mayfield to come here. I fear he plans something even from his cell.”

“Surely not.” Old Mr. Chinworth been a much grieved and broken man upon his return after Samuel’s death. “At least I hope not.”

“Father has an unfortunate habit of doing wrong to make a right. While he has seemed penitent enough, old habits die hard.”

“What will you do?”

“I need time to think. Ready yourself and Cecily for a trip to the village. I dare not let either of you out of my sight. Not today.”

“As you wish.”

I rose, attended Cecily, and tied on our straw bonnets. “You must be so curious to see the village.” I encouraged her with a smile I managed to conjure. It was hard to be bright and positive after such a morning, and such foreboding findings.

Cecily was reluctant. “I want to be in the kitchen with Mrs. Fredrickson, please. May I?”

“You may just as soon as we return from the village. Your brother most particularly wants to show it to you.”

A flash of her old impatience swept across her face. “Why? Probably just another poky old village like Butterton.”

“Now, Cecily. Butterton isn’t pokey, it is quite lovely and you know it.” Indeed, it was a charming refuge from the hustle and bustle of Town.

She sighed, disappointed.

“Go ask Mrs. Fredrickson if she requires anything.” Cecily did as bid and returned with a smile and a list.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Tobias worried for our safety. By the time we were ready, the horses had been attached to the small hack, and we were on our way.

Tobias had much business to attend to. Letters to post, inquiries concerning the sheep he’d been advised to purchase. A doctor to fetch, along with the local magistrate. Tobias felt it necessary to stay above the law no matter what.

I blinked at his design slowly. There were times when the law wasn’t precisely upstanding.

This was a cold, hard fact. Could we trust the local magistrate?

Was he law-abiding? While I had wondered about a swift execution regarding so gross a theft—and had used such imaginings as a threat to Cummins, sometimes connections ran deeper and darker than a judgment.

Remembering the things that had happened to Joseph gave me pause.

Did the men fraternize? Gamble and get drunk together?

But Tobias was set in the matter. I couldn't change his mind, even if only for a few days. While he intended to keep Cummins under lock and key at Burtins, he would inform the proper authority. He refused to follow in Samuel’s and his father’s footsteps.

Cecily and I waited in a small parlor while Tobias held conference with the man.

We would have liked to wander the village on our own, but he refused us that freedom, too.

Fear laced his eyes once again. He was so tired.

Tired of everything. He didn’t trust us alone at Burtins or in the village.

If I were honest with myself, it felt good that someone cared enough about me to protect me for a change. I didn’t have to rely only on myself.

Cecily leaned her head against my shoulder and took my hand.

What she said next was a spark that set my face aflame.

“I know you love my brother.” She patted my hand, looking up at me with her pale blue eyes.

“I won’t tell him. I hope he loves you back so I don’t have to lose you.

” Her voice quivered. “I don’t want you to leave me. ” She hid her face.

A lump rose in my throat. “Do not worry, my dear. I don’t plan on going anywhere.

” Not for a long time. I couldn’t make promises, no matter how much I wanted to.

One couldn’t force another to love. I thought back to the events of the morning— what had I sensed in him?

Had I really sensed his regard, even passion?

Or did I confuse the matter due to the strength of my own feelings?

I put my thoughts aside and focused on my young charge. “What do you plan to cook with Mrs. Fredrickson?”

“She promised, if I were to acquire a cake of raisins, that we might make rock cakes.” Her voice lifted at the thought. “I never knew lower-class work would be gratifying.”

I gave her a nudge. “Work is always gratifying, regardless of class. We are created to work. All of us. Even the richest man on earth is made for it.”

Her eyes widened. “I heard Tobias talk to one of the tenants about helping with a roof.” She laughed. “I can’t imagine him sweating like a common laborer in naught but shirtsleeves.”

Did he plan to personally invest in his tenants' lives this way? Posh. The fact made me care for him all the more. “It will be good for him.”

She shrugged. “I suppose if I can enjoy kitchen work, he is allowed his pleasures.”

“Indeed.” I laughed.

Tobias stepped from the magistrate’s office, the man following him. “Let me know when I need to fetch him. Just send word.”

“I thank you.” Tobias gave us a slight bow. “Ladies? If you will. We are well past luncheon, but Mr. Tanner assures us the local inn will serve us well. Shall we?”

We made our way down the cobbled street and passed by a draper’s shop, a book shop, a solicitor’s office, and a row of houses next to the inn that stood tall and proud. For a small village, it was remarkably tidy and well-maintained.

“I hear it is owned by Lord Bennington—his estate lies north of here. He owns the entire village, for that matter.” He opened the door for us, and we stepped in.

I’d never heard of him. I blinked in the sudden shadows of the candle-lit dining room and looked around, right to left, front to back.

As Joseph had taught me, I should not fear my surroundings or be suspicious of them, but instead know them .

As philosopher Francis Bacon once said, “knowledge is power.” Or rather, forewarned is forearmed if need be.

But what I saw weakened me, tested my knowledge.

Shocked me, body and soul. I could not think, could not comprehend the sight before me.

My dead husband. He was here. Sitting at a table with another man, a mug of ale gripped in his hands.

I’d know him anywhere. Air flew from my lungs. I couldn’t breathe.

“Tessa?” Tobias’s voice sounded far away.

I grew hot, my head buzzed. Patrick was supposed to be dead.

I’d seen his body. I’d identified him at the cold morgue—I—Patrick looked at me and resumed his conversation.

He didn’t know me. I didn’t understand…what was happening?

Patrick was dead. These six years, cold in his grave, his soul in the presence of God.

“Tessa…” I heard my name as my vision grew fuzzy. I buckled and knew nothing.

A sharp tang cleared my senses. I blinked, my heart pounding. Smelling salts followed by the biting scent of onions. “There she is, wake up, dear.” An older woman in a ruffled day cap hovered before me. “There you are, sir, your lady has recovered.”

I sat up, a hard settee beneath me. Cecily clung to my legs, weeping. Tobias knelt beside her, a hand at her back. “Cecily, dear.” My heart still pounded, and my mouth had grown quite dry. Patrick was in the other room. “I am alright.” I tried to smile. “I just need a bite of luncheon.”

Cecily moved closer and wrapped her arms around me. “No more weeping, dear.” I had thought my tears long over. Indeed, they threatened to spill down my present life as ferocious as a tidal wave.