Page 5

Chapter four

I awoke to the sound of a full tray crashing down the stairs, or so I guessed.

Mrs. Fredrickson’s voice could be heard, “You silly goose, you’ve overfilled it and lost your balance.

Mr. Mulls has no use for three jam pots, he only eats strawberry,” she tsked.

“Try again, dear. And consider how uneven the steps are. You must memorize them if you are to be of any use in this house.”

A younger voice responded. “Yes, Missus. I am sorry. I will try again.”

Twas a maid in training. I glanced at Cecily still sleeping in the smaller bed positioned across from mine. The sound had not disturbed her. The room, of the same patchy stone and plaster, was nonetheless cozy.

Mrs. Fredrickson had gone through the trouble of putting us in one of the better rooms, she’d said.

The linens however, must have resided in the depths of a trunk amid aged bundles of lavender for a very long time and the curtains, I fingered the dark green wool, were moth-eaten.

I didn’t imagine Burtins Hall entertained guests, if ever.

I washed my face in an old cracked bowl and put up my hair before a much-spotted mirror.

I dressed myself and left Cecily snuggled beneath her blankets.

She was exhausted from the previous day and received a small dose of the dreaded elixir later in the evening than usual. She likely wouldn’t wake until noon.

Thank goodness Mr. Mulls’s recounting hadn’t frightened her too much. I’d bundled her in her softest gown, told her a story, and helped her with her prayers. A new experience, as she didn’t know anyone except the vicar was free to pray to God.

I closed the door softly and made my way down the narrow, winding steps. Breakfast in the dining room—down to the left, Tobias had said.

A narrow sideboard held a few covered dishes, the table entirely empty.

Had Tobias already eaten? I had a dozen questions to ask him.

But mayhap it was none of my business. I was here to help rehabilitate Cecily and be her companion.

Not to sort out his family dramas, which seemed to keep us all guessing.

“Oh good. I hoped you would be awake.” Tobias. He offered me a smile. “Sleep well?” Dark shadows yet stained beneath his eyes.

“Well enough. I daresay better once I become accustomed to the bed.”

“Rather lumpy, was it?” He grimaced.

“I’ve slept in worse.”

“I’ll send for new mattresses.” He pulled a piece of foolscap from his pocket and penciled a note. “Dogs, food, mattresses—anything you might require?”

Twas like we were housekeeping. Together, for real. It sent a pang in my heart. I noted his untamed hair, his shadow of a beard.

“I might require a comb for your hair, Mr. Chinworth.”

He grinned. “My valet has quite been lax, I’m afraid.”

I smiled back at his attempt at humor. His valet had abandoned Mayfield when the troubles began. He hadn’t bothered acquiring a new one.

“But point taken. I will see to this mane of mine before the village sees me in such a state.” His voice lowered. “For some reason, I do not feel ashamed of it before you, Tessa.”

I’d seen him flirt before. Shamelessly. This was pure honesty. Mayhap with a little flirtation. Mayhap…

He ran a hand through his hair, creating a high fluff. “I do believe I should know how to care for myself as well as you can. To be self-reliant is of great value, I’m finding.”

“It can be, yes.” I tried not to laugh at his disheveled state—he still looked handsome. Unbearably so.

“Here, let me serve your breakfast.” He began to take the lids from the bowls. “What has Mrs. Fredrickson scraped together for us?”

Delicious scent invaded the room. I admit I was ravenous.

“Well done. We’ve eggs, bacon, and porridge—a pot of jam, brambleberry, no doubt.” He lifted a plate, scooped generous portions, and set it before me.

The housekeeper walked in. “Master Chinworth! Ye’ll not be serving while at Burtins! You leave me the work to do.” She set a steaming teapot upon the table. Hot creamy tea sounded like Heaven.

Tobias rejoined, “My good housekeeper, if she wishes to remain employed, will allow me this freedom, if unusual.”

She blinked in confusion, but he gave her no chance to respond.

“I’m beginning to think a master is no master unless he knows how to serve.

I begin here. With Tessa.” A soft smile played about his lips.

If Emma had seen and come to know this kind of Tobias, would she have chosen him out of the three brothers?

I wouldn’t have blamed her. I shook the thought.

Joseph was always meant to be hers. That was plain to see.

Mrs. Fredrickson harrumphed. “As you wish. However, I will pour the tea. You will not deprive me of that honor, sir.” She winked at me.

Such an agreeable woman. I liked her very much.

“I thank you,” I told them both. “For the breakfast and the tea.” I unfolded my napkin and spread it across my lap. “How is Mr. Mulls this morning?”

“Ah yes, how is my cantankerous, living, breathing uncle?”

“Aye, he’s peaceful now that you’re here. You might attend him when you get the chance.”

Tobias nodded. “I planned to do just that.” He filled his plate and sat across from me. “Thank you, Fredrickson.”

She curtsied and left the room.

“Is Mr. Mulls the rightful owner of Burtins?”

“No indeed. He isn’t my mother’s brother, but her deceased sister’s husband. She made provision for him to live here.”

I thought of the opulence of Mayfield Manor. Would he not be better cared for there? But thinking upon its recent inhabitants, perhaps not.

“Has he no living?”

“For a fifth son who married a third daughter—no. It is my understanding he hasn’t a farthing left to him.” He took a bite of bacon. “But he hasn’t been entirely idle. The man has an affinity for kite making.”

“Kite making?” I did not expect that. I hadn’t flown a kite in years.

Tobias pointed. “His workshop is on the uppermost floor. Sells them to a shop in Manchester and often will gift the village children with them on a birthday.”

Mr. Mulls might be a more thoughtful man than I’d first given him credit for. “I hope he makes one for Cecily.”

“I daresay she would enjoy it.” Tobias lifted a forkful of eggs and chewed.

“I wonder if it was Samuel who shot him. But—I cannot reconcile why he would need salt, sugar, and my silver for that matter. Makes no sense. Not with his overflowing bank account. Why on earth would he come here in the first place?”

“No. It doesn’t make sense.” Nothing about Samuel had. Why would anyone choose such dark doings over good? Ah, but the devil plays a deceptive game of smoke and mirrors and ploys for self-importance. He’d fallen prey to it—as many have. Thank God Tobias hadn’t.

“What of the strange death notice—and in the London papers?” Tobias lifted his hands in exasperation. “I’m only ashamed I didn’t try to attend the supposed funeral. I would have known something was off a little sooner.”

What had I thought just a second ago? “Smoke and mirrors.” I set my fork down. “A distraction. The things that were stolen? A mere cover for another theft. Someone must have taken something—mayhap something important, but wanted the focus to be on what’s obviously missing.”

“Tessa. What you say may be true, but there has never been anything important here. Not within Burtins Hall, or on the property.” He chewed his bacon slowly.

“That I know of, which is very little. It’s not like I’ve really invested myself in the place.

Samuel kept me busy—and—Father—and…” His face clouded as new realizations dawned.

“They kept me too busy to come here. Mocked it at times. Surely Father…” He let the thought trail unfinished.

But I knew what he meant to say. Mr. Chinworth’s actions had been unfortunate. Had been tangled up with the likes of Banbury. A past mistake that rued his present life.

“I inherited Burtins from Mother as a provision…” Once again, his thoughts sank against a question neither of us could answer.

We ate the remainder of our breakfast in silence until he set down his utensils and said, “Now, what can I bring you from the village?”

“I have everything I need.”

His gaze softened, and I didn’t know why, other than it sent my heart into a plunge. I had everything I needed, but no, not everything I wanted. I looked down at my plate, unable to bear his kind regard. Was love merely a want? Or could it also be a need?

I was glad when he left the table, left me to myself.

I shut my eyes against what I’d allowed myself to think and feel.

This continual war within me had to stop.

I let myself love him. Yes. There. I admit freely to myself.

I was in love with Tobias Chinworth. Now, I might logically set this love aside, may God help me.

More important things were at play. Cecily’s health, for one. I pushed my chair back and returned upstairs. Nothing like duty to put one’s imagination and desires in place.