Page 31 of The Peculiar Incident at Thistlewick House

Edward was quickly ushered inside, relieved to find that the interior was as cosy as before. Maude turned to bolt the door but asked no questions, and pulled out the solitary kitchen chair, indicating for him to sit.

‘Remove your wig and your scarf,’ she instructed, in a no-nonsense voice. ‘Both are matted with blood and I need to assess your wound.’

He laid them on the table beside him, suddenly extremely self-conscious of how he looked, and patted at his velvet crop of white hair. Maude gave half a smile.

‘That’s better. Apart from anything, the black makes you look sinister.’

‘It’s a look I’ve deliberately cultivated,’ he said, his heart rate slowing now that he was inside her cottage, although the truth was he felt exposed without the wig.

Even though she knew his secret, years of his father’s cruel comments made him feel weak when he was Edward the Albino, and it was more important than it should have been for him to feel potent and strong in front of her.

He wanted to be seen as a man, not a freak.

She tipped her head to one side. ‘I go about in a hooded cloak for much the same reason, but we’re friends now, are we not?

Please keep your head still as I clean the wound.

Although, it is becoming quite the regular occurrence – me dressing your injuries.

P’rhaps I should start charging for my nursing,’ she said.

Edward felt a stab of guilt that she had indeed been of service to him before. And now, here he was, bursting into her house, seeking refuge and demanding help a second time. He did as he was told and she set about dabbing a wet piece of cloth on his ear.

‘The bullet’s only grazed you,’ she said. ‘You’re lucky; couple of inches to the left and you’d be dead. It must have been Lord Felthorpe or one of his men – they often come for the deer in the woods. Maybe he mistook you for an animal.’

Edward shook his head. ‘This was no mistake. I was followed long before that. And I shouted out after the first shot to alert them to my presence. Whoever was holding that gun was deliberately aiming for me a second and third time. As I told you on my last visit, I’m a target because I’m investigating the circus. Someone wants me silenced.’

Jacob Palmer had definitely been rattled back on the common, but was he rattled enough to shoot Edward in cold blood?

Maude hesitated for a moment. ‘Are they going to turn up here and murder us both?’ she asked, wrapping a thin strip of cotton around his head, finally tucking the loose end into the folds and pulling back to admire her handiwork.

‘Unlikely. I lost them in the trees and they’ll have been as disorientated as me. Besides, I’m convinced whoever’s behind this wants to make it look like an accident. Like you say, if I was shot in the woods on a foggy day like this, it would be easy to assume I’d been mistaken for a deer.’

His injury now dealt with, she took the wig to the sink and carefully rinsed out the blood, setting it on an upturned milk jug to dry. She then lifted the net curtain and peered through the tiny window above it.

‘I can barely see beyond the windowsill, so I don’t think you’re going anywhere for a while. Sit near the fire and warm yourself. I’ll make us both some food.’

‘I can’t impose—’

‘Nonsense. Like I said before, I get lonely. So long as you’re happy with simple fare… I can’t afford luxuries such as meat, but gathered some bladderwrack yesterday.’

He nodded. It would be sensible to wait out the dreadful weather in her cottage, if only to avoid being shot at again… and even if he had to eat seaweed.

‘Aren’t you worried that a gentleman spending the afternoon in your home will damage your reputation?’

She looked at him in disbelief and started to chuckle to herself.

‘I assume you’re making a joke at my expense, Mr Blackmore. What reputation? It’s long been supposed that I fund my drinking with whoring, so it’d be your good name at stake, not mine.’

In turn, he snorted his response. ‘And yet, I care less about people’s opinion of me as the days pass.

Did you not hear? I’ve been exposed as a fraud.

Having built up a solid standing as a leading spiritualist over recent years, it’s all come crumbling down because a man I claimed to have communicated with has turned up very much alive.

My reputation is in tatters and the upstanding members of Thistlewick Tye have strongly suggested I leave. ’

‘Then you’ll be returning to London?’

‘Possibly, but there is little for me to return to. I’m not sure I can face a host of angry, bereaved relatives and I understand my former manservant has stolen from me.

And yet, even though I’m shortly to take ownership of Thistlewick House, I’m not wanted here, either.

’ He shrugged. ‘The vicar certainly won’t welcome me in his pews.

Though I’m of a mind to remain here after all, just to irk him. ’

‘Ah, but you’d miss the culture, fine dining and the eligible young ladies of London. We’re too rural for the likes of you. I’m afraid there are no fancy gentleman’s outfitters or theatres in the village.’

‘Those things aren’t as important as they once were,’ he replied honestly, because he rather liked the bracing walks along the rugged coastline and the small community feel, away from the stench of the Thames and crowds of the city.

‘It’s my intention to sell Thistlewick House and use the money to buy another property somewhere I have no connections.

But I’m not in the hurry I initially was and feel a duty to get to the bottom of these spirit possessions.

The fact someone wants me dead just makes me more determined to do so.

Only then will I sell up and be off to pastures new. ’

‘Don’t you want to remain close to your cousin? Is there no one here you’d miss if you left?’ She focused intently on clearing away the things she’d used to dress his wound, as though his answer was of no consequence.

He wanted to believe that she was fishing over their tentative friendship but that would be quite a leap.

She was a married woman with a dark past, and the silly feelings he kept trying to squash were merely the result of his bachelor status, the drama of everything that had happened since his arrival and her recent kindness towards him.

She was, however, despite everything, the only person in this village, aside from his cousin, that he trusted.

She also made his stomach flip and his heart flutter and, did she but know it, both those things were happening to him in that instant.

He avoided her question because he suspected he would miss her if he left Thistlewick Tye, and that was rather a surprise for him to admit to himself after so short an acquaintance. But then, it had never taken him long to form romantic attachments, even those he’d no intention of acting upon.

‘You’re quite correct that I should wait out the weather, and I skipped luncheon so something to eat would be most welcome.’

‘Good,’ she said, spinning around to pull a small onion from the string hanging on the wall behind her. ‘Then you can help me prepare it.’ She smiled at his startled expression. ‘Ah, you’re used to calling on your manservant or summoning a maid?’ she correctly guessed.

Preparing food was the preserve of women and he’d little experience of such an activity, but her look brooked no opposition and within minutes he found himself, shirtsleeves rolled to the elbows, scrubbing and then peeling a wrinkled potato and a large turnip.

Maude collected grains and dried herbs from her pantry and set a kettle of water to boil from a chimney crane above the fire.

She scraped some of the hot ash to one side of the hearth and fried some slivers of fat in a pan on a trivet, before adding the vegetables to brown, and transferring everything into a larger pot.

She poured on some of the hot water, covered it all with a lid and then used the remaining kettle water to make a tea from some leaves he couldn’t identify.

‘It’ll take a while to be ready, but that fog’s not lifting today.

Sit awhile and drink this.’ She handed him a chipped mug and he brought it to his nose, smelling lemons.

‘Dried sweet balm – I can rarely afford tea. Besides, the villagers are convinced I’m downing neat gin for most of the day.

And yes, it’s ridiculous to spend my precious pennies on liquor that I don’t touch, but I’ve a disreputable image to uphold. ’

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled and they settled together on the bench.

Maude stretched out her legs to warm her toes.

For someone used to a fine Darjeeling or an Earl Grey, Edward was surprised how pleasant the drink was.

The faint citrus smell was refreshing. Their enforced domesticity had distracted him from the threat to his life, and the panic of earlier was slowly seeping from his body, despite the unsettling sensation every time she’d brushed past him in the confined space.

‘Shall we play a hand of cards whilst we wait for our meal?’ he suggested.

‘Is that how you spend your time when you await the food your staff have prepared?’ She was teasing again.

‘I’m afraid I’ve chores to complete as soon as I’ve drunk this.

I’ve socks badly in need of darning and a floor to sweep.

And that doesn’t include the jobs I can’t contemplate in this weather, like chopping wood, drawing water from the well on the common or foraging for food. ’