Page 12 of The Secret of Drulea Cottage

“Ah, so yer na completely stupid after all. I must be going now. This place smells much too natural[13]fer my sensitivities,” Lady Oliver said before sauntering away. The servants trailed after her like moths to a flame.

Briony huffed at the slight, but then she realized something else: the sneaky woman had gotten the fish without even paying for it!

“That thief! I ought to just—”

“Calm yerself, lass! That would na happen if she knew. She would na dare speak ill o’ you if she knew where you came from. Oh, if only!” Vincent cackled.

“Mr. McLaren, what are you talking about?” Briony locked her eyes onto the odd man, trying to force an answer from him with her penetrating gaze.

Vincent looked away guiltily. “Best you don’ find out from me. That’s na the way. Nay, ’tis na the way! You must learn fer yerself. ’Tis the only way to true knowing. True knowing is better than showing!”

The man smiled madly and spun around in a circle, seemingly caught up in delirium.

Briony grimaced, tired of his riddles. “If you won’ tell me, then how shall I know?”

Vincent spun back to her with a small frown. “The others don’ know, only I! And I shall never tell you. Nay, I promised! A promise must be kept.”

“Others? What others?”

The man’s eyes widened, and his face turned pale. “No others! Na a one! Only you, dearie!”

Before Briony could ask more, Vincent turned and dashed out of the stall, his arms flying above his head. The other villagers barely glanced up; this sort of behavior was normal for Everton’s “mad fisherman.”

Briony stayed motionless for a few moments, mulling over the peculiar words.She would na speak ill o’ me if she knew where I’m from? That reminds me far too much o’ when Mum mentioned our “other home.”

Briony shook her head to clear her thoughts.Surely’tis nothing. He’s mad, after all.

She took a few steps away from Mr. McLaren’s stall to continue collecting the food she needed, but then another thought occurred to her.Maybe he meant older people in the village when he said, “The others don’ know.” Was he lying about how much they know? He seemed like he was trying to hide something.

Those old goats would never tell me anything, though, so what’s the point in wondering about it?

She looked down at the basket in her hand as inspiration struck.But I know exactly whom they would tell.

*

After a great deal of coaxing and promises, Adaira agreed to help Briony get the information she wanted. The two of them headed for Nathaniel Levins’s house that afternoon. Besides the tavern, that was the usual place where the older men gathered to complain about how bad the world had gotten and reminisce over the good old days.

Typically, villagers would stop and chat with the neighbors they saw, but as Briony and Adaira walked down the street, a total of six people went by them without even saying hello. Adaira frowned at the discourtesy, but Briony was used to it.

As the women neared the tailor shop, a couple stepped out. Briony wouldn’t have paid them much attention, except she glimpsed an unexpected motion.

Freda Calhoun, one hand on her pregnant belly, was waving at the two women in a manner that seemed almost…friendly.

Shocked, Briony was about to wave back, but then she noticed the scowl on Mr. Calhoun’s face and changed her mind. It was obvious the man had no interest in speaking to her, so she gave Freda a polite nod and tried to pull Adaira to the other side of the road.

Freda, on the other hand, was not nearly as observant and stepped directly in front of the two friends. “Briony, Adaira, where are you off to?”

The high-pitched tone of the woman’s voice told Briony she was about to hear another long list of complaints, but she forced herself to smile. Normally, Briony had very little patience, but she tended to be more gracious when it came to pregnant women. Though she’d never done it herself, she knew carrying a new life for nine months was no easy task.

“Freda, yer looking well today,” Adaira chirped.

Freda’s gaze swept over the pretty brunette distastefully. “There must be something wrong with yer eyes, then, since this is the worst I’ve felt in my entire pregnancy.”

Briony glimpsed Daniel clenching his jaw. He didn’t seem to be in the mood for his wife’s whining either, and Briony almost felt sorry for him. She, too, wished she could be somewhere else right about then, but as the town midwife, she was obligated to make sure Freda was all right. “What seems to be the problem?”

“What’s na the problem! I’m tired all the time, and every part o’ meaches. And the dreams! I never—”

“Freda! Dear, this is na the time to be discussing this. I’m sure they have things to do.” Daniel gripped his wife’s shoulder and pulled her back.