Page 12
If Patrick were alive, then I would still be married.
I could not, must not love the man that stood before me, gazing upon me with such tenderness in his eyes.
Nay, I must close it off. But why had not Patrick come forward when he saw me?
All was confusion. In the days after Patrick supposedly died, I’d begged God to wake him, to send him back to me like Lazarus, raised.
I ought to be happy, but I felt plunged into a kind of darkness.
The old woman pulled Cecily away from my neck. “If you please, miss, might I take the young lass to wash her face? I’ll return her directly.” Her tone was gentle and kind, like Mrs. Fredrickson. Cecily agreed, thank God.
I had to tell Tobias. I had to tell him the truth immediately.
I swung my feet from the settee to the floor, and he sat beside me.
“What did you see, Tessa? What is wrong?” His arm came around my shoulder.
“I know you saw something awful, but I can’t understand what for the life of me.
” His gaze became urgent. “If I am to be your protector, you must speak.” He shifted his arm.
“Wait. Is it one of the men who harmed you in the past?” His fingers clenched into a fist.
How I longed for his affection, his touch. His protection. Tears spilled from my eyes. I eeked out a whisper. “My husband. Sits in the dining room.”
He stiffened. “What are you talking about? Your husband is dead.”
“So I thought.”
“How is it possible?”
“I do not know.” I pleaded with him. “I saw his body, Tobias. He was dead. The constable made me look at him, though I desired it not.” I swiped at my eyes.
“He was dead. Well and truly. I don’t know how…
I…” Tears clogged my throat. For the trauma and grief I’d endured.
For the love with Tobias I’d never experience.
How was it going to be? Could I love my husband again?
Did he want me back? Six years. Six long years had gone by and he’d not returned to me. Why? Was I to be the abandoned wife?
Tobias took both hands in mine and held tight. “To be clear: you saw Patrick Audlington in the dining room, sitting at a table.”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
The same eyes, the same nose, the same curve to his lips… was it him? “I…”
He stood and pulled me up. “We must face him, Tessa. Come.”
“Tobias, he looked at me. He looked at me and showed no recognition.” Doubts began to rise.
Had my mind played tricks upon me? Had these stressful events, nay, even seeing his name inked so clearly on the list along with some living, some dead, wreaked havoc on my imagination?
“Mayhap I am for the asylum.” I shook my head. “I do not know.”
Tobias tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “There is no madness about you, love.”
Love … how could he call me that—if he knew that Patrick was sitting in the next room?
My limbs were weak as I allowed Tobias to take me back to the dining room, back to my fate—or my future? Perchance my fury if I were truly abandoned. I’d prayed, hadn’t I? God would give me the grace to bear this pain. I wouldn’t be alone. I clung to that single promise.
“Take me to him, Tessa,” Tobias whispered in my ear.
We rose and reentered the dining room. Faces turned toward me—had I caused much commotion? There. There he was. He also looked my way again, then resumed his luncheon. How? How could he? Tears smarted. I took another step, then another.
Tobias whispered. “Is that him? On the left?”
I gave a nod. We were almost at his table. The two men faced us, confused. Upon closer look, my certainty melted. He was Patrick—but he wasn’t. I didn’t know. Perhaps time had erased some of my memory of him.
Tobias offered a bow, and the men rose from the chairs. He addressed my ghost-husband first. “Are you Patrick Audlington?”
“Who is asking?” His eyes narrowed. He had yet to recognize me. Inconceivable.
“Chinworth.”
He swallowed and finally gave me another glance, but it was brief. Still, nothing. He returned his attention to Tobias. “Have we business, sir?” The men lowered back into their chairs.
There was a mole beneath his chin. Patrick didn’t have a mole. Patrick didn’t have a mole…
“We do if your name is Patrick Audlington.”
The man shrugged. “That is what they call me.”
His left ear had an odd little point. Patrick had not.
This man was not my husband. Relief and dread both flooded through me.
I tugged Tobias’s sleeve. Something was terribly wrong.
How can a man be so like my deceased husband?
Patrick had no brothers. And yet, this man had the same name.
A name I’d had to bury in the past to keep evil at bay.
What did he play at?
Tobias ignored my signal, so I spoke up. “You are most certainly not Patrick Audlington.”
“And who are you?” The man rejoined.
I gained strength. “Miss Smith.”
“I don’t know what it is to you, Miss Smith , but my friend and I would like to continue our business at hand. Please excuse us.”
His voice was different, too. Nothing like the man I’d married. Why had I thought he was? But there remained his name.
Tobias plunged ahead. “Would appear you’ve taken a name you do not own.”
The man sitting opposite him tossed his napkin to the table. “What do they talk of, Audlington? He said you were on the up and up.”
The imposter shrugged. “Many men enjoy the same name.”
Tobias shook his head. “Maybe the same name, but not the same name and similar features. You play at something. I believe you owe it to the world to be honest. Tell your business partner here what your true name is. Be an honest man, or you will regret it in more ways than one.”
A wave of caution flared. Tobias’s personal walk down the redemption road may have taken him too far. He valued honesty above everything these days. I wondered at the wisdom of our confrontation. Maybe we needed to back off. Seek answers another way.
The imposter’s eyes flashed, and he swore. He stood, knocking his chair behind him, and threw a few coins onto the table. He bounded from the inn. Tobias chased him before I could stop him. The other man followed, causing no short of a ruckus among the inn’s patrons.
I was about to follow them through the door when the kind innkeeper’s wife brought Cecily to me. I could in no way take Cecily along. So we sat, helpless, waiting.
What on earth had just transpired? I scarcely knew.
I did know that truth has a way of catching up to a man to hold him accountable, no matter how far he ran.
Lies simply aren’t ingestible. None can keep one down for long, if one does, well, the poison of it takes over.
Is that not what was wrong with the world? A lie and a greedy trust in it?
The kind innkeeper brought us tea and stew. I hated waiting. But I also hated not knowing why a man had stolen my dead husband's name and looks. How was that even possible?
“Where is my brother?” Cecily asked.
“Finishing some…business.” What had I said about lies? I couldn’t tell her exactly. It was some business of a sort. I hardly knew how to explain.
Cecily took a swallow of her tea. “I know something is up. I’m not stupid, but I don’t have to know what it's about.” She winked.
I agreed with her. “You are correct. Something is up. Something rather confusing. I pray Tobias is able to sort it out directly.”
As I sipped my tea and tried to eat the stew, I wondered. Was this the Patrick Audlington the same one written on the list? The one with the black dot by his name? The men who were dead had been crossed out. And Patrick’s, oddly, had not been. This must be the case. Yet a sense of unease nagged.
It’s a strange emotion to be relieved that my husband was still in his grave. Never did I expect to think thus. We waited for mere minutes before Tobias returned, his cravat askew and his hat rather absent. He took a chair and was promptly served.
He lifted the pewter mug took a deep drink of ale. He set it down and gave me a pointed look. “Gone.”
“And the other gentleman?”
“A man of business, supposedly in the market for implements.” He shook his head. “Refused to give me his name. At least, he ignored my request with a clutter of words. The man was clearly frustrated to be so inconvenienced.”
“Implements? What kind?”
“He didn’t say, but I do have my suspicions.”
“The list of items we found on Cummins?”
“Precisely.”
I shook my head at the entire conundrum, outright dizzied by it.
He reached across the table and took my hand. “I am sorry for your distress. It must have been quite a shock to see him.” He squeezed then let go.
One of the kitchen maids brought his stew and a fresh pot of tea.
“Whoever this Patrick is, he paid for his luncheon. He might have easily run and not been so…”
Tobias paused. “Honest?”
“Yes. Don’t you find it strange?”
“Perhaps he hadn’t yet decided his course of action. He could have simply run and left without paying if he was able to disappear so easily.” Tobias took a bite of stew. “Well noted, Tessa. But it may be irrelevant. He can’t be up to anything good.”
I took a bite of bread as another thought formed.
Tobias hurried us. “Come, let us finish here. The doctor waits at the livery.