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“On Burtins’s grounds? I have no doubt. It pains me to say it but I believe my beloved housekeeper knows more than she lets on.

Do keep an eye on her, when you aren’t busy with Cecily.

I hate casting suspicion on the good woman but I cannot rule it out.

It is possible she has been threatened to silence.

Our arrival was quite unannounced and I wonder that she did not write to me concerning Uncle Mull’s injury and the theft. ”

I hated to think it of her but there was a strong case that he was right. She, at the very least, knew something and wasn’t telling. Mayhap for her own safety. Or maybe the answer was far simpler than that…

“Father practically begged me to travel here to get away from the dangerous threats. I wonder what he really intended for my arrival.” He refolded the lists and placed them back into his interior coat pocket.

“I will leave you to my sister. I would speak with Audlington while he lives.” Intensity creased his brows.

“Might I go with you?” I was curious about the man. He had to be a relation of some sort.

“You may, but I implore you not to tell him who you are—or were, rather.” He called the young maid in training to come sit with Cecily. “He lifted my hand to his lips and grazed my knuckles. “I am so relieved that man isn’t your husband.”

I’d been stunned by his kiss, but this pronouncement and the look in his eyes left my heart pounding. He kept my hand and led me to the sick chamber on the first floor.

The young doctor sat nearby, smoking a pipe, and the magistrate stood with folded arms. The man was propped up on several pillows, his face bruised purple and yellow. The color had deepened since I observed him at the ruins. The bandages across his stomach seeped bright red. Not a good sign.

The doctor took a puff and spoke. “He doesn’t have long, poor soul. He's lost too much blood.”

Tobias approached the bedside. “Shall I call for the vicar?”

A rusted voice scraped through his throat. “No time. You’ll have to be vicar enough for me, if you want the job.”

Dear God… It was one thing to find the men and think them already gone. Was quite another to see a man slip from this life to the next to meet his Maker, I hoped.

“But first I have to tell you—”

“No.” Tobias cut him off. “You are dying, we must pray.”

“But—”

“Your soul, man. Give it care in your final hour.”

“Yes.”

Tobias bowed and prayed. I’d not heard him do such before now.

We’d only talked about praying, how the vicar at Butterton had guided him into a firm knowledge about God.

And that Joseph had forgiven him. Words flowed from him.

Gentle words spoken over this man’s heart and soul, to be forgiven no matter how he’d lived or what he’d done.

The magistrate shifted on his feet and looked away.

The doctor seemed a bit stunned. I wondered then, had they only seen men of the cloth pray?

Such seemed all too common. The action made me love Tobias all the more.

They didn’t understand why he’d waste time praying instead of gaining information, but I knew. I understood.

I realized that Tobias’s brother Zachary had no time for soul searching before his death.

The wretch had joined the chase to capture Emmaline, and paid for it with his life.

So had Samuel. Life had become precious to Tobias, and in the swift choice to put a man’s soul above everything else, the room became a holy place.

When Tobias finished praying, a tear slipped from Audlington’s eye. Then Tobias began his questioning. “What is your real name?”

“Patrick Audlington.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Patrick Audlington Straight. My grandfather thought it a good punishment. Forced my mother to name me after my legitimate sibling—so that the whole village might guess from whence I came and shame her all at once.”

The answer I’d suspected, but more. The poor woman…

“We look enough alike, so I’m told.”

“You never met the real Patrick Audlington?”

“Never. Spied him from a distance when I was a lad, but no.”

“Why did you drop your surname? Mr. Straight is a far cry from Audlington.”

“You can already guess.” He gasped in pain; his breath came shorter. “I was being used.”

“But Mr. Audlington is known to be dead.”

His hand raised a little. “Not entirely known. He wasn’t popular or well-known among the ton.”

This was true. He wasn’t.

“This was to my benefit…”

“How so?”

“Being an illegitimate son, no matter how good you are, no matter one’s high marks at school, fine manners—dress…” he coughed. “Gets doors slammed in my face. The other man’s death was rather hushed, was it not?”

Had it been? I paused and returned to that time.

The dark, cold day of his burial. The few people that attended.

After the assailants followed Joseph and, I shut my eyes, beat us, we had to be vigilant.

We’d hidden ourselves. I’d not gone to tea—I was supposed to be in Scotland, so I allowed my acquaintances to believe that’s where I’d gone.

The funeral was the only public appearance I’d made after the murder, however unusual it was for a woman to do so.

The churchyard had been devoid of anyone, not even his employer.

He was right. It had been hushed.

He continued. “I worked in his stead.”

“Who hired you?”

“That would be telling.”

“You are about to die, why would it matter?”

Patrick's forehead wrinkled with pain. “Because there are things at play that you do not want to get involved in—nor your fine lady who lurks in that shadow. Let me guess, Audlington’s widow?”

Tobias didn’t answer him.

“What kinds of things are at play?”

“You’ve heard of Banbury?”

The magistrate approached. “Who hasn’t?”

“The man thought he was invincible. A god.” A breathy laugh escaped from his throat. “A few men desire to take his place.”

The magistrate’s jaw grew firm. “What kind of operation were you involved in?”

“I was merely continuing my dear dead half-brother’s work.”

I stalled at that. He managed finances for a large shipping company.

Tobias shot me a glance before asking another question. I would remain silent. “You keep us in suspense on purpose. You are about to die, what do you have to lose?”

The man grunted. “What if I live? Then I may still be of some use. Ol’ Prinny won’t like that I’ve told.”

“I think you lie, sir.”

“No, tis true. Patrick Audlington worked for the Crown until he wanted out—and died before he could resettle elsewhere.” He snorted.

“You’d think the Crown oblivious to the gentries’ illegitimate offspring, but no.

They are very aware of our existence and us our desire for a true place in the country.

” He coughed again. “They offer us duty and honor—and gain.”

“You thought to gain.”

“No. Gain is nothing to me, honor, yes. My grandfather may have burdened my shoulders with my mother’s disgrace but the Crown offered me his legitimate position—and name.”

I wanted to weep for this man. He’d wanted to truly own the name he’d been shouldered with. I longed for the day when little ones would not be saddled with their parent’s sins and indiscretions. Did not God create all life?

“So I became Patrick Audlington. Was easy to do since we are near twins, though I but six months younger.”

My mind was dizzy with too many emotions.

That my father-in-law had betrayed his wife.

This man had endured much of the sad consequences.

And of pertinent import: my husband had really worked for the Crown?

It seemed impossible. And yet…pieces began to fit.

There had been many times I’d asked details of his daily work that he did not, or would not expound upon.

The sudden trip to Scotland? The man made it sound as if we were resettling. No mere trip.

The magistrate grimaced. “A likely tale.”

“My tale is verifiable.”

“Who should I write to or visit for such verifications? Tell me that?”

Tobias held a hand out. “I believe him, but we will definitely verify his story. In due time.” Tobias asked one last question.

“And what brings a man of the Crown to Burtins? And,” he pulled one of the lists from his pocket.

“Why is your name here—with these others?” He held it in front of his face.

The man smiled. “Your name is on it, too; I might ask you the same question.” His words drained from him as pain lanced his brow.

He reached weakly for the list. “Everyone on this list is dead—except you. And Mr. Mulls.” He licked his lips.

“They will try for you again. These men are ruthless. They get what they want. The Crown gave me a legitimate name, true, but I am…expendable.” He coughed. “I always was.”

Tobias knotted his fists. “Why do they want me dead?”

“A Chinworth has more than one enemy. Take note. The people that had me shot? You are merely in the way. This list…” he shook his head. “Is rather telling. Now I know who double-crossed me.” He took a deep breath and shuddered. The doctor rushed to his side.

“The pain is…” His eyes closed, “Bad.”

The doctor spoke. “He suffers greatly.”

I made my way to the side of his bed. “Is there anything you can do for him?”

The man nodded. “I have done so already. Time will tell.”

Tobias nudged Patrick’s shoulder. “Who double-crossed you?”

The man’s lips moved.

“Can you speak louder?” Tobias urged.

“Would be treason for me to say it.” He moaned but kept talking. “Burtins was being used to hide a cache of weaponry for a manipulated uprising here, on English soil. The weaponry has been moved.” He clenched his teeth. “To Mayfield Manor, I believe.”

No . How awful!

Tobias gave me a meaning-filled glance. His father had possibly arranged to scare Tobias away—he was still pulling strings like a puppeteer. Who else could have done this?

“Can’t imagine a small village like Butterton the location of an uprising.”

“The cache was to travel from there to London, where my cohorts would take it. Only…”

Only?

He struggled for breath. “Mercy, God. Have mercy on me.”

In a rash moment, I grabbed the man’s hand. I wished someone had been there to do so for my husband in his final moments. He’d been alone. So very alone.

Then, with a final shudder of breath, he was gone.

He’d worked for Banbury—and the Crown…He spoke of treason…had the Crown manipulated him? He called himself expendable. May it never be said of anyone. The hushed moments after his death were pregnant with information that still needed sorting.

Then Tobias left with all haste to follow the cache to Mayfield—to speak with his Father— and I did not know what else.

Aside from the guards Joseph sent, I’d been left completely alone, a part of my heart gone with him.