Page 25

My Dearest Mrs. Jackson,

Warmest regards,

Jane Thompson

Caroline was humming in the sitting room when William came downstairs.

He could live a hundred years and never grow weary of hearing his sunshine’s melodies.

With a smile, he entered the room to find her seated at the table with a cup of tea.

It was evident she had already broken her fast before he had descended.

Their new housekeeper, who was cleaning up, greeted him as she passed by on her way to the kitchen. “Good morning, Mr. Jackson.”

“Mrs. Marlowe.” He nodded in acknowledgment.

Crossing the room, William ducked slightly to avoid the low ceiling beams, then bent to press a quick kiss to Caroline’s temple before taking his place at the table. A moment later, Mrs. Marlowe returned with a plate of eggs and ham and set it before him.

“Thank you.”

She inclined her head and left them to their privacy.

“Annie came by this morning,” Caroline said, “to inform me that Mrs. Greer has accepted an offer of marriage from Mr. Andrews.”

“At last! Mrs. Greer is a good woman and certainly deserves an improvement in her circumstances.”

“I am very pleased. Once she weds, I believe she will be helping the baker in his shop. It has been rewarding to assist a member of our community in building a future, so perhaps I shall offer similar employment to another widow in need of work.”

William nodded. “That would be excellent. And what of Annie?”

“I asked whether she might wish to apprentice with the baker instead. I told her I would be agreeable to releasing her from our arrangement if her interests had shifted, but she said she enjoys making pretty things.”

“That was generous of you.”

“I thought it important to be sure. But she has learned much these past months, and I was relieved to hear she still wishes to continue on with me.”

“I am gratified to hear it, especially in light of the upcoming changes to our lives.”

She looked up from her teacup, her eyes catching the morning light. “Are you speaking of our meeting the Thompsons after services?”

“I am. From all accounts, Mr. Thompson is an excellent architect, and I expect an interesting conversation. Perhaps he can apprise me of the latest developments in London.”

“And I cannot wait to hear what his wife has to say of fashion. She has a special interest in the subject.”

William grinned. “Will you tell her our news?”

Caroline tilted her head in consideration before glancing down at her belly. “Not yet. Not until we have visited your uncle and aunt. They ought to be the first to know. They are the only family we have, after all.”

William rubbed a hand over his beard, thoughtful. “I believe it shall bring them joy. Their letter in response to our marriage was very warm. I can only hope this news will give them even greater happiness.”

“Of course it will.”

He gave her a soft smile. “You look lovely.”

She glanced down. She was wearing her mulberry walking dress, the one he most admired. “The fichu is delightful, is it not?”

William squinted at the lacy gauze that modestly shielded her. “Not as delightful as the one who wears it.”

She groaned and dropped her forehead into her hand. “I am very much looking forward to speaking with someone who truly appreciates fashion later today!”

He chuckled and reached for her hand, lifting it to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I am and always shall be a blacksmith, my love.”

“That is more than apparent.” Her tone was scolding, but her hazel eyes glowed with affection as she smiled back at him.

William and Barclay—the architect had insisted conversation would be much easier if they dispensed with formalities—were engaged in a spirited discussion regarding the lock William had recently perfected.

“Would you mind if we leave the table, my dear?” Barclay inquired of his wife.

Jane Thompson smiled and shook her head. “The meal is mostly over. Please go ahead.”

William threw a glance at Caroline, clearly seeking her assent.

She gave a small nod, and the two men rose, animated by shared enthusiasm.

Barclay Thompson, tall and lean with a fall of black hair and a beard not unlike her husband’s, had expressed an interest in partnering with William to produce the lock in London through his contacts.

He foresaw considerable potential for profits in such a venture.

“I must confess,” Jane said with a wry smile once they had left the room, “I could no longer listen to the relative merits of brass versus zinc in the inner mechanisms of a lock.”

“May I go read my book now?” Little Tatiana looked up from her plate, her silvery-blonde hair escaping her plait, and her deep blue eyes wide with hope. The child was already lovely and would grow into a true beauty in time.

“Of course, darling. Mrs. Jackson and I shall be here if you need anything.”

The girl grinned, clearly eager to escape the dull company of adults. Rising quickly, she made her exit in a flutter of skirts, leaving Caroline and Jane to pick at the last vestiges of their meal.

“I wished to remark upon your fichu,” Jane said after a pause. “The lace is quite delicate.”

Caroline touched the fine edging, smiling softly. “It was a wedding gift. From the Duchess of Halmesbury.”

“Oh! You know the duchess? The duke is Barclay’s cousin.”

She nodded. “I was once in service at Baydon Hall for the Baron of Filminster. Her Grace was simply Miss Annabel then.”

Jane’s expression changed, her brow creasing with concern. “I do not suppose the news has reached Chatternwell yet.”

Caroline stilled. “What news?”

Jane hesitated, clearly uncertain. “I am not sure I ought to be the one to tell you, but as you will hear it soon regardless, I thought you might wish to send Her Grace a letter.”

Alarm fluttered in Caroline’s chest. “What has happened? Is Her Grace unwell?”

“No, not directly.” Jane bit her lip, her discomfort obvious. “We nearly postponed our journey here due to a family emergency in London. The earl assured us that we were not specifically needed and should proceed with our plans.”

Caroline’s fingers curled around the edge of her napkin. “What sort of emergency?”

Jane exhaled. “I regret to inform you that the baron was murdered three nights ago. In his London townhouse.”

“What?” Caroline clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing too late that she had cried out.

“I am sorry.”

“I barely spoke to the baron during my years at Baydon Hall, but … how is Lady Halmesbury?”

“She is taking it in stride, though very distressed by the allegations being leveled against her brother.”

“Master Brendan?” Caroline’s voice was strangled. “That is not possible. He is the most amiable of men! And what was the baron doing in Town? He never left Filminster.”

“He was in London for the King’s coronation. I do not know what the outcome will be regarding the charges, as we left for Wiltshire on Friday. Lord Saunton and the duke have been speaking with the coroner. We are cutting our visit short by a few days to return to Town as swiftly as possible.”

“This is a nightmare.” Caroline’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “They must have the wrong man.”

“I hope so. I truly do. Mr. Ridley is one of the warmest gentlemen I have ever met. You ought to see him with Jasper—the duke’s heir. He has a marvelous way with children.”

Caroline nodded numbly, the horror of it unfolding in her mind. “He would not—could not—commit such a heinous act. This must be a dreadful misunderstanding.”

“That is our hope, too. Perhaps by the time we return to Town, the true perpetrator will have been identified.”

Caroline’s hands had gone cold. “I shall write Her Grace a letter of condolence this evening.”

“She will be grateful for it, I am sure. I do not believe she was particularly close to the baron, but her concern for her brother is grave. If he is arrested and convicted …” Jane shook her head, her dark curls bouncing with the motion. “I cannot even bring myself to say it.”

“It is unthinkable,” Caroline murmured.

“If you wish, I can provide you access to the library after dinner, and I shall take the letter back with me to deliver by hand. We are returning on Tuesday, so it will reach her before the week’s end.”

“That would be most kind.”

Later that night, Caroline slipped into bed next to William. Cuddling up to him, she put a slim arm around his waist to stare pensively at the opposite wall.

“Do not be distressed, sunshine. The duchess has many connections to assist her in the matter, and the duke is very influential. If anyone can sort out this muddle, it will be him.”

She smiled tremulously. William pushed his concern for Caroline to the side, leaning down to kiss her temple.

“Her Grace is surrounded by many allies. You can only control what you do here in Chatternwell. You should find someone to take over the work of Mrs. Greer. Someone who works hard and deserves our support.”

Caroline nodded, leaning her head back to gaze at him in the darkened room. “You are a good man, William Jackson.”

“And you taught me to count my blessings, Caroline Jackson. You are my greatest blessing of all.”

“Until our babe comes along.”

He chuckled, embracing her close. “Until our babe is here. Then I will have all the riches in the world.”

“Are you and Barclay to do business together?”

“I think so. He was impressed with the design. With the type of connections he has, we are sure to find the right men to work with.”

“I am glad. Perhaps with his help, you can spend more time on creating designs.”

“As long as I live here with you for the rest of my days, anything I do for income is a blessing.”

She smiled, her cheek pressed against him as she slowly drifted off in his arms. “I love you, blacksmith.”

“And I you, sunshine.” William held her close, thankful to the universe for the radiance in his life which would multiply further with the arrival of their first babe.

Caroline’s current distress for the duchess made him ache, but the fact that he was able to comfort and support her in her time of need was a blessing to be cherished.

They were a family now, just as he had dreamed of all those months ago.

Unravel the mystery of the baron’s death, and discover if a marriage born of scandal can become a true love match in Miss Abbott and the Suspect Lord .