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Chapter six

The next few days passed amicably. Cecily and I cobbled together a new routine for ourselves.

Twas good to put our minds to what we might do with these new and interesting surroundings.

We took walks after breakfast. Applied ourselves to watercolors after lunch, and some light reading before her post-luncheon rest. The late afternoon included another turn about the countryside and a game of chess or some sort before tea.

It was as much as her slight form and low energies could handle.

“How long will we stay here?” she asked, her bright eyes blinked in the sunlight. As much as she still needed to recover, a new bloom had set upon her cheeks.

I couldn’t answer her exactly. Until Tobias deemed Mayfield safe?

But were we even safe here? Theft and attempted murder were no small issues.

Tobias and I both wondered why he’d not been contacted by the constable—or at least by Cummins.

The man had been charged with taking care of Burtins, and sending all important communication to Tobias at Mayfield.

But Cummins proved to be a character not to be trusted. If he’d been in his cups and at cards too often, then not at all. I queried Tobias as we took a turn about the garden. “Why did not Mr. Mulls not find the time to inform you?”

“My uncle expected Cummins to do his job.” Tobias shrugged. “The real issue is that this place is my sole responsibility. And I, alone, am responsible for everything that happened here.”

Questions abounded. Mayhap my mind ran away with me. After the events last spring, I couldn’t settle myself into any kind of true ease. I was ever on guard. I kept a dagger latched to my right leg, my small pistol within reach come eventide.

The man who had accosted Tobias in his bed-chamber had been all too real. More real than I’d experienced in the space of six years that separated my past from my present. It set my heart thumping betimes.

And the note? Did it only threaten the male Chinworths—or did it threaten the Chinworth daughter too?

The idea put a sick feeling in my stomach.

I imagined that it was Cecily’s father whose actions caused our present troubles.

The price was far too high. Samuel’s additional actions had made life all the harder.

I gazed upon the verdant land, with Burtins’ shabby structure—the ruins and cottages beyond.

Tobias had spent hour upon hour assessing the ledgers that Cummins had left in a tangle, interviewing the cottagers of their needs, their present industry, and the fees that seemed to set them back financially—and yet the property could fain to do without.

This stunning piece of land needed his tending, finances needed balancing—so much to be done. Yet I believed a peaceful life might be made here. When, and if, and after…

Cecily took my hand and pulled me into a run; her shrieking glee broke me from my melancholy ponderings.

She led me back to the ruins and paused.

I could see the imagination building behind her eyes.

Her lips lifted with a pure smile—nothing saucy about it.

She was changing. She was beginning to hope.

I wondered if being away from her brothers, Samuel and Zachary, and sadly, her own father, along with the lessening of that nasty elixir, meant that she was no longer oppressed by her family’s evils.

No longer a captive of a belief, a mood, and the perceived malady that beset her as a smaller child.

She’d been released from her tower to explore the true world, and not the one of her manipulative brother’s making.

We’d wandered near the ruins, alight with the golden glow of summer. The place had a draw. I felt much like the young girl Cecily was—full of romance and longing.

“Come, Tessa.” She waved me to her side. “Let us find more silver for Tobias.”

I saw no reason to object. She exhibited new energy and wanted to do something for the brother that she’d had to learn to trust in such a short time.

“Remember not to go near the stairs. They aren’t safe.”

“You don’t have to remind me, I remember the rules!”

She ran towards the well, though we’d searched thoroughly there first, we combed the area once again.

After a time, we quite gave up. The rest of the silver likely lay in the mucky depths, waiting for a future treasure hunter to find it one hundred years hence.

I laughed at the thought. In all probability, no one would think to look there in that strange future I’d thought up.

We meandered about the property that had been gracefully laid out and undoubtedly planned with a purpose. We approached a smaller structure with arched windows still standing along the sides.

“Tis the chapel, Cecily.” Once a holy place, we entered the space where flagstone lay smooth and unmoved. There was a stone lift in the front—before it was an altar.

I imagined a good priest who presided over the former community, its livelihoods and shortcomings.

I thought of the communion bread and wine offered here.

The sacrifice that set us all free if we would but partake.

I shut my eyes and offered a prayer of thanks, but as I did so, a groan emanated from behind the altar.

Cecily’s hand went to her throat. I had not yet convinced her of the absence of ghosts.

I placed a finger to my lips and reached for the dagger strapped to my leg and pulled the blade out.

She startled at the sight. I would have to explain later.

I gripped it fast and let the folds of my gown hide its presence.

I tiptoed closer and peered over the side.

A man lay in a heap against the stone. Though I’d seen him but once, I knew it was Cummins. A very drunk Cummins. I moved closer to his head, and my heart stopped. He was bloodied. He’d been beaten.

Cecily tried to see what I’d found, but I caught her just in time.

“Let us find your brother. Tis naught but the old drunk man we met upon arrival.”

“He smells terrible.” She laughed. “Tobias should throw a bucket of water on him before he makes him leave Burtins. I threw a bucket of water on Samuel once.”

"Did you now?" I made a half-hearted laugh at her comment; thankful she’d not seen the man’s actual state. I could well believe Cecily had seen a few of her brothers wasted by drink. We hastened back to Burtins. Tobias would be very concerned.

He was.

“Cecily, will you stay with Mrs. Fredrickson and perchance learn to make bread—or something?”

Mrs. Fredrickson cast him a doubtful eye but waved the child over anyway.

Cecily hopped twice. “Might we make biscuits instead?”

At Cecily’s pleading gaze, the older woman melted. “Indeed, we might! Put on this apron, lass.”

Cecily ran back to me as I exited the kitchen. “I’ve always dreamt of baking.” A hand pressed to her heart as though about to experience a wonder.

“Have you now?” I smiled.

Tobias bent and kissed the top of her head. “Mind and do exactly as she says.”

Cecily gave him a curtsy and a gentle smile back. Respect he’d never received from her until this very moment.

Tobias gave her a bow in return, then tugged me quickly down the hall and pulled me into a quiet corner.

My pulse pounded. “I hate to ask it of you, Tessa. I need you to accompany me to the ruined chapel. I’d ask the stable boy, but he is young yet.

And I don’t know if he can be trusted, given Cummin’s behavior. He may have helped the man.”

“I understand.”

He grimaced as he retrieved a pistol from a cabinet near his desk and loaded it. “I acknowledge that I require your defensive skills as I might need of one of Joseph’s men.”

I was honored he did not discredit my ability. “No one was about the place, aside from Cummins. I don’t believe we will be met with any sort of mischief.” At least I hoped we wouldn’t. “He was quite incapacitated.”

“Let's go.” He pushed through the door and I followed.

A few days ago, I’d shot a man and then promptly buckled beneath the emotional weight of what I’d had to do. And yet Tobias still trusted that I was strong enough to help him in this way? My heart shouldn’t have warmed at that, but it did.

He took my hand as we fairly stumbled down the hill. “Did you see anyone or anything else odd?”

“Not at all. Cecily wanted to hunt for more silver. I never dreamed of finding the man behind the altar.”

“I imagine not.” We slowed by the entrance and made our way back to the chapel. I had my dagger ready once again, should I need it.

We stepped silently to the place where he lay and peered over the altar. But he was gone. "Where did he go? I promise you he was here."

Tobias bent to inspect the area. "Drops of blood on the flagstone. He can't have gone far" He spun around, glancing this way and that. But there was nowhere else to hide except behind the altar. He stepped softly to the back of the building and waved me to follow.

“I don’t know how he was able to get up and run off so quickly. He was quite bloodied.”

“Hmm. He might be crouching behind any one of these ruined structures.”

A small stone tumbled close by. Then, a clanking sound.

“Indeed.”

“I think old Cummins was merely playing dead.” He stooped to pick up a silver butter knife and held it to me. “I think he must have had empty pockets on last night’s gamble and came to retrieve some silver.”

“A sound assessment. How curious he would know its whereabouts…”

“Isn’t it, though? Perchance, he had dealings with Samuel. Or he was the one who shot at my uncle.” Tobias cast a keen gaze among the ruins. “Come out, Cummins,” Tobias shouted, “and let us talk. Let us help you tend your wounds.”

No response.

“You are trespassing on my land, Cummins. I could see you in the gaol for this. Come out, do as I say.” Still no answer. “These ruins are a maze. Finding him could prove a cat and mouse game.” Tobias cocked his pistol. “A game I’m not in the mood to play.” He shot into the air. Birds scattered.

I spoke quietly. “Tobias.” He did not realize the mistake he’d just made.

“Hopefully that will scare him off.”

“Far be it for me to correct you…but…”

He glanced down at his still-smoking pistol. “I’ve fired my only shot. Foolish of me.”

I nodded. He had no way to reload. “The kit is in your study.” I scanned the ruins, back and forth, high and low—as Joseph had taught me.

Tobias spoke in a low voice. “I daresay that you and I should walk back to Burtins without delay.”

“He is gone,” I spoke louder than needed.

This time, I grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the ruins as fast as I could.

Tobias didn’t argue. If Cummins watched, he would think we’d given up.

We crested the hill, but instead of turning down the lane back to Burtins, I stalled him just behind a rise.

The place would be perfect for a picnic. And a lookout.

Tobias guessed at what I planned for us to do.

“You are wise, Tessa. We will see which direction he runs when he leaves. Though I do wonder at my ancestors for building the castle at such a vulnerable position.” He plucked the butter knife from my fingers.

“However, we are left with a rather dull weapon…” He cocked a brow and we laughed until I showed him my dagger. “But of course you are prepared.”

Our position was fortuitously out of sight of both the tenants and Burtins.

We were entirely unseen and alone. I gulped at the thought as my betraying heart picked up pace.

We sat in silence. We were used to being quiet together—so often we’d had to be so while attending Cecily.

Our situation, being alone, was entirely inappropriate. But how good and right it felt!

I turned to face the object of our lookout. The ruins and bloodied Cummins.

We sat among the weeds for nearly an hour.

“There he is,” Tobias murmured. “Crouching and limping—do you see him? He’s heading west. Towards the village.” He stood and helped me to my feet, but didn’t let go of my hand.

A warm breeze slipped between us. His lips parted as if to say something, but he must have thought better of it. He released my hands and took a step back. “I am sorry—"

Once again, we had allowed ourselves to be alone together. Compromising in the eyes of most society. I filled the air with my own words, a little out of breath from the spark of his touch. “It could not be helped.”

I wanted to tell him that he had no obligation towards me.

I knew full well what we had done, what we’d done countless times because of a greater need.

Cecily. Troubles. Life and death… I wouldn’t count those things against him.

He needed me and I would never expect him to pledge his troth to me solely based on these necessary indiscretions.

His demeanor changed, from thoughtful to something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it. “There is much that cannot be helped.” He continued to gaze upon me as if I might read his mind and heart, but alas, I could only know my own.

I couldn’t help my heart either.