Page 37 of Convincing Marianne (The Widows of Lavender Cottage #2)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

T he afternoon was wearing toward evening when Mrs. Smith finally spotted their thief attempting to blend into the crowd near the Morris dancing demonstration.

The man she pointed out was indeed well-dressed and unfamiliar—a gentleman of perhaps thirty with the sort of confident bearing that suggested he was accustomed to moving through society without question.

"That's him," Mrs. Smith said quietly, indicating a figure who was watching the dancers with apparent interest while positioning himself near the edge of the crowd. "Same face, same build. He's the one who was trying to load that strongbox into the cart."

Henry studied the man with the tactical assessment he'd once brought to identifying enemy agents. "He's positioned himself for quick escape if needed, but close enough to normal festival activities to appear innocent. Smart positioning."

"What's our approach?" Marianne asked, and Henry felt the familiar surge of admiration for her willingness to tackle problems head-on.

"We need to detain him without creating a public disturbance," Henry replied. "If he realizes he's been identified, he might run or create a scene that would disrupt the entire festival."

"Perhaps we should simply inform the local constable and let him handle the matter?" James suggested, rejoining their group after settling some minor dispute about vendor payments. "Surely apprehending criminals is outside our area of expertise."

"The constable is at the far end of the common dealing with a dispute about livestock," Marianne replied. "By the time we fetch him, our thief could easily disappear."

"But approaching him ourselves seems rather... risky," James continued. "What if he becomes violent? What if he accuses us of harassment? We could find ourselves in legal difficulties."

Henry felt his jaw tighten at James's repeated focus on potential problems rather than solutions. "The risk of letting him escape with information about our security procedures seems greater than the risk of a polite conversation."

"I suppose," James agreed reluctantly. "Though I still think involving proper authorities would be more... appropriate."

"James," Marianne said with barely concealed impatience, "we are the proper authorities for this festival. It's our responsibility to protect the charitable funds we've raised."

Henry caught the sharpness in her tone and realized that James's cautious approach was beginning to wear on her as much as it was on him.

Here was a woman who had spent the day solving crisis after crisis with decisive action, being advised by her intended fiancé to hand off problems to other people.

"Of course," James said quickly. "I simply want to ensure we handle this properly."

"Then let's handle it," Henry said, already moving toward their target. "Mrs. Smith, would you be willing to identify him definitively once we're closer?"

"Gladly, my lord. I got a very clear look at his face."

As they approached the Morris dancing area, Henry noticed that their suspected thief was indeed paying more attention to potential escape routes than to the entertainment. Professional observation, not casual festival enjoyment.

"Excuse me," Henry said, approaching the man with the sort of polite authority that had served him well during military interrogations. "I wonder if we might have a word with you about this afternoon's activities?"

The man turned with a smile that was just slightly too quick, too practiced. "Of course! Wonderful festival you've organized. Quite impressive for such a... rustic... community."

Rustic. Henry caught the condescension in the comment and felt his protective instincts sharpen. This was someone who saw Somerset society as beneath his notice—exactly the sort of person who might view their charitable funds as easy pickings.

"Thank you," Marianne said smoothly. "We're particularly proud of our security arrangements. Very thorough documentation of all financial transactions."

Henry admired her strategic approach—letting the man know that theft would be easily detected without directly accusing him of anything.

"Security arrangements?" The man's smile faltered slightly. "How... comprehensive."

"Extremely comprehensive," Henry confirmed. "We've been tracking all financial activity throughout the day. Including some... irregularities... that occurred around midday."

"Irregularities?" James asked, and Henry caught genuine confusion in his voice. "What sort of irregularities?"

Henry felt a flicker of frustration that James was asking questions that undermined their strategic approach. They were trying to make the thief nervous about discovery, not provide him with information about what they did or didn't know.

"Perhaps we could discuss this matter in a more private setting?" Henry suggested, gesturing toward the committee tent.

"I'm afraid I really must be going," the man said quickly, taking a step backward. "Pressing engagement elsewhere, you understand."

"Of course," Marianne said pleasantly. "Though I believe Mrs. Smith wanted to speak with you first. Something about a conversation you had earlier today?"

Mrs. Smith stepped forward with the sort of determined expression that suggested she was prepared to detain the man physically if necessary. "Yes indeed. About your interest in our security arrangements and your activities near the committee tent."

The man's practiced composure finally cracked. "I'm sure there's been some misunderstanding?—"

"I'm sure there has," Henry agreed. "Which is why we'd appreciate the opportunity to clarify matters. Starting with your explanation of why you were attempting to load our donation strongbox into a cart behind the carriage area."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the man said, but his voice carried the sort of desperation that confirmed his guilt as clearly as a confession.

"James," Marianne said quietly, "would you please fetch the constable? I think we're going to need official assistance after all."

"Certainly," James replied, though Henry noticed he seemed relieved to have a task that removed him from the immediate confrontation.

As James departed, their suspected thief made his move—a sudden dash toward the festival's edge that caught everyone except Henry by surprise.

Henry's military training kicked in immediately. Rather than pursuing the man directly, he anticipated his route and intercepted him near the craft vendors, tackling him with the sort of efficient precision that ensured capture without injury.

"Let me go!" the man shouted as Henry restrained him. "I'll have you arrested!"

"You'll have difficulty explaining your attempted theft of charitable funds," Henry replied calmly, maintaining his hold despite the man's struggles.

By this time, a crowd had begun to gather, drawn by the commotion. Henry was acutely aware of the potential for scandal—a festival coordinator wrestling with a well-dressed gentleman in full view of dozens of witnesses.

"What's happening here?" demanded a voice from the crowd, and Henry looked up to see Mr. Davidson, one of the local magistrates, pushing through the assembled spectators.

"Mr. Davidson," Marianne said with obvious relief. "Perfect timing. We've apprehended the person who stole our donation funds."

"Stole funds?" Mr. Davidson looked between the restrained man and the festival organizers with obvious surprise. "That's a serious accusation."

"A false accusation!" the man protested. "These people have attacked me without provocation!"

"Actually," Mrs. Smith interjected firmly, "I witnessed him attempting to load the stolen strongbox into a cart for transport. Lord Alton simply prevented his escape."

For the next ten minutes, Henry found himself providing a detailed account of the afternoon's investigation while maintaining physical restraint of someone who was clearly guilty but loudly claiming innocence.

It required exactly the sort of calm authority under pressure that his military experience had developed.

Marianne, meanwhile, coordinated with Mrs. Smith and other witnesses to provide Mr. Davidson with comprehensive evidence of the theft attempt. Her organizational skills and natural leadership were on full display as she efficiently managed what could have become a chaotic situation.

When James finally returned with the constable—who proved to be unnecessary since Mr. Davidson was already handling the matter—he found the situation completely resolved and their thief being led away in custody.

"Oh," James said, looking around at the dispersing crowd with obvious surprise. "It appears everything has been... handled."

"Quite efficiently," Mr. Davidson confirmed. "Though I must commend Lord Alton's quick thinking in preventing the suspect's escape. And Lady Marianne's excellent coordination of the investigation."

Henry caught the way James's expression tightened slightly at this praise for others' decisive action while his own cautious approach had left him absent during the crucial moments.

"Yes, well," James said with forced pleasantness, "I'm glad it all worked out satisfactorily."

"More than satisfactorily," Marianne replied, though Henry noticed she was looking at him rather than at James. "The funds are recovered, the thief is in custody, and we can proceed with the evening's festivities without any concerns about security."

"Speaking of evening festivities," James said, his tone becoming more animated, "I believe we should discuss the timing for... certain announcements... we planned to make."

Certain announcements. Henry felt his stomach clench as he remembered what this evening was supposed to bring: James's public proposal and Marianne's acceptance, celebrating their engagement in front of the entire Somerset community.

"Of course," Marianne said, though her voice seemed oddly flat. "Though perhaps we should ensure all the festival business is properly concluded first."

"Naturally," James agreed. "Though I confess I'm eager to... formalize... our partnership before the evening ends."

Henry watched this exchange with growing understanding that James viewed the proposal as a business transaction to be completed rather than a romantic gesture to be savored. Even his language—"formalize our partnership"—suggested practical arrangements rather than declarations of love.

"James," Marianne said carefully, "could we perhaps discuss this more privately? Festival coordination isn't the ideal setting for personal conversations."

"Of course," James replied, though Henry caught a flicker of impatience in his expression. "Though I hope we won't delay too long. I've arranged for the announcement to coincide with the evening's closing ceremonies."

Arranged for the announcement. As if Marianne's acceptance were a foregone conclusion rather than a choice she might still be contemplating.

Henry felt a surge of protective anger at James's presumptuous tone, but forced himself to remain silent. This was Marianne's decision to make, regardless of how he felt about her intended fiancé's approach to romance.

"I should check on the evening's final preparations," Henry said, needing distance from a conversation that was becoming physically painful to witness.

"Excellent idea," James agreed with obvious relief. "Lady Marianne and I can handle any remaining personal matters."

But as Henry walked away, he heard Marianne's voice calling after him.

"Henry, wait. I think we should coordinate the evening schedule together—ensure all the festival elements are properly integrated."

Henry turned back to see Marianne looking at him with an expression he couldn't quite read, while James stood beside her with the sort of puzzled frown that suggested he didn't understand why festival coordination required continued collaboration.

"If you think that's necessary," James said with barely concealed impatience.

"I do think it's necessary," Marianne replied firmly. "This festival represents months of joint planning, and I want to ensure it concludes as successfully as it began."

Joint planning. Henry caught the emphasis in her words and felt his heart skip with something that might have been hope.

"Very well," James agreed reluctantly. "Though surely the main elements are already settled?"

"The main elements are settled," Marianne confirmed. "But the details matter, James. They always matter."

And as she said it, Henry realized she wasn't talking about festival logistics at all. She was talking about the details that revealed character under pressure, the small choices that showed what people truly valued when forced to choose between competing priorities.

Details like whether someone's first instinct was to comfort an injured child or assess legal liability.

Details like whether someone approached problems with decisive action or cautious delegation.

Details like whether someone viewed their partner as an equal collaborator or a problem to be managed.

For the first time since James had proposed, Henry allowed himself to hope that Marianne was beginning to notice those details too.

And that they might matter more than practical compatibility when it came to choosing the person she wanted to spend her life with.