by Aria Norton
Molly banged her tray on the table, giving her a side look. “I see our prim missy hasn't run away yet.”
“No,” said Miss Cathy. “She's doin' all right fer herself. Maybe she could show ye a thing or two.”
Molly laughed. “I doubt that, Miss Cathy. Wait until the real men come in, then she'll be crying.”
I have not done a thing to this woman, and yet she is intent upon giving me a challenging time here. Perhaps, in time, she will come to see that I am no threat to her. Miss Cathy put the last mug on her tray, spilling a bit.
“Go on now, missy, give those men what they want before they begin to yell and bring these walls down.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Freddi turned, keeping an eye on the mugs and the uneven floor. One wrong move and everything would come down and then she would be done for. Just a few more steps and I shall be there. From the corner of her eye, she could see Molly advancing on her. If she means to make me spill these drinks, she is sorely mistaken.
Freddi stepped to the side, inhaling sharply when a man appeared out of nowhere, bumping into her. Her tray flew out of her hand and into the air, landing all over the man. Freddi looked on with horror, seeing her hope fall to pieces. The man had turned away, but perhaps if she begged for forgiveness, she might still have the job.
“I am so sorry, sir! I did not mean to step into you and...” The man turned, and her jaw dropped. “Nash? What are you doing here?”
“Freddi, I-”
“Missy!”
Freddi stiffened. “Yes, Miss Cathy?”
“Come here!”
Freddi closed her eyes for a moment. She is sure to tell me to leave this tavern. She ambled to where the woman stood waiting for her, almost too afraid to look her in the face.
"I was a fool to think that a girl like you could work here. Molly may be rough around the edges, but she has never spilt and wasted my beer over a customer. Collect your things, missy, and go. We don't want yer kind here."
It was odd how this woman had spoken kindly to her moments before, and yet now Freddi was being driven out of the tavern. Molly came into view, her smug face making Freddi's hands itch. If I were anyone else but my mother's daughter, I would have tipped her a settler! The woman threw her belongings at her, walking away with a sneer.
Freddi caught them just before they reached the floor, turning to face the reason why she no longer had a position in the filthy establishment. This was Nash's fault, just as it was his fault that she was being driven out of her home. She glared at him, pointing all her anger in one look before storming off. Has he come here to make my life difficult? Did he not say that he was leaving for France? Why is he still here? Freddi had so many questions, but she was far too furious to ask them. She just needed to get as far away from him as soon as possible, or she might say things that she shouldn't.
“Freddi!” Nash called out. “Please, let me speak to you.”
Freddi ignored him, walking faster. She came to an abrupt stop when her arm was grabbed, and she was spun around.
“Listen to me, Freddi!”
“No!” she yelled. “I shall not listen to you! Leave me alone, Nash, why will you not go away and return to France like you said you would? I do not need you here, you have done enough.”
“I am sorry, Freddi, I did not mean to have you fired. I can speak to the-”
“No, you will do nothing of the sort, do you hear me? I do not want you to interfere in my life any more than you have already done. Let my arm go.”
He shook his head. “I cannot do that, Freddi. I need you to understand what happened.”
“What is there to understand besides the obvious fact that I lost potential employment because you were not looking where it was you were going?”
“It was Molly that caused you to walk into me, Freddi, and I could not step back fast enough.”
He looked a bit embarrassed as he looked away, and Freddi realised that he spoke of his leg. Nash was right, Molly had been the one to make her step away, but why did he have to be there at all? Why did he come to her when he saw that she was working? Freddi breathed out a puff of air, removing his hand from her arm.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
“Do not worry about me, it is you that I am concerned about.”
“Do not be, I can look after myself.”
Freddi gave him her back as she walked away from him, rolling her eyes when he fell in step with her.
“Do you not wish to know why I am here? Why I have not left for France?”
Yes, she did want to know, but she would not let him know that.
“It is none of my concern what you choose to do, Nash.”
“But it is important that I tell you. Will you listen?”
She sighed. “If you must.”
“I have made a deal with my father.”
“A deal? Whatever for?”
“To get my inheritance back.”
“Did you not say that you are not concerned about such things? And yet here you speak differently. You are not a consistent person, Nash Blackmore.”
He stood in front of her, barring her way. “It is not what you think, Freddi. I am not doing it for me, I am doing it for-”
He stopped and looked away. Why has he stopped? Oh, never mind, that now. I have had all that I can take this day. Freddi sidestepped him, but he followed her.
“Just a moment. I was leaving, but my father called me back. Apparently, someone is sending him death threats, and he wishes for me to investigate it and find out the perpetrator. As payment, he will give me my inheritance back. So you see, I shall earn it and not simply take it.”
Someone was sending Lord Blackmore threats? Freddi was not surprised, but the news left her with an unsettling feeling.
“Does he have a clue as to who it might be?”
“No, but he will compile a list of people he has worked with and people he suspects. I expect it to be quite a long list.”
“Do you think that the person behind the letters is dangerous?”
“If he or she is sending death threats, then likely so.”
“She? You are considering women?”
"Why not? A woman scorned is not someone to be trifled with. My father has broken a few hearts along the way, I do not know how my stepmother has put up with it for so many years. The woman is a saint."
A woman that could put up with a man like Lord Blackmore was not only a saint but a warrior. Who else could suffer so much at his hands and yet still remain standing?
“How long will the investigation take you?”
“I do not know, but I am hoping not too long. There are things that I wish to get into order, and having my inheritance will help me do just that.”
So, she would see Nash for a little longer? Freddi chided herself for the tiny hope that lit up in here. He is not here for you, do not be a fool. Once he has his inheritance, he will return to France and leave you once again. The loss of employment and knowing that she would lose Nash all over again was simply too much to consider in that moment.
“I must go, please do not attempt to stop me.”
He heeded her words because he did not say a thing, neither did he try to stop her as she walked away. I was feeling wonderful mere hours ago. Well, perhaps not wonderful, but I certainly was not sad. Now I feel as though my world has come crashing down once again. Nash needed to keep away from her, perhaps then she would have the chance to start afresh without her past pulling her back again.
***
Freddi found herself once again entering her home quite distressed. Was there no end to her plight?
“I do not wish to cry again, I must do something else.”
But what? Clean! That is what she could do. Whenever something had bothered her in the past, Freddi had come to realise that a bit of cleaning was enough to calm and clear her mind well.
Although not dirty, she decided that the cottage could do with a thorough spring
clean. That way, Mrs Blunt could not accuse her of being lazy or untidy as she was to move into the place as soon as Freddi vacated it.
It was terrible to think that someone would come in and take over what had been her home for over twenty years. It did not seem right; it was a crime really, but not one that could be punished. The one who held the power loathed the sight of her, and no amount of apologising would change her circumstances.
Lord Blackmore's heart was as hard as stone where Freddi was concerned. Ten years had passed, and yet his anger had not abated, rather, he had likely fanned it into flames. Only a man full of intense hatred could tarnish the reputation of a woman for revenge.
He does not wish for me to work in Alfriston, he has made sure of it.
Freddi did not know how he had done it, but he had been mightily successful. If I did not know any better, I would think that he is sitting in his study laughing at my misfortune like the heartless man he is. Is it any wonder that someone is sending him death threats? Freddi did not hate him, but she would rather not see him at all.
Lord Blackmore must have angered someone, one can never know.
Many servants had come and gone at Blackmore Estate. Some had been dismissed unfairly, while others had left in tears. Any one of those servants might have decided to play a trick on the Marquis and send those death threats intending to scare him.
“No, who would send a death threat in jest? It is far too serious a thing to be taken lightly.”
This person had a score to settle, and if the Marquis was desperate enough to ask his son to investigate the letters, then it had to be a serious matter. Lord Blackmore was a man with a lot of pride; it would have taken quite a scare for him to admit that he needed the help of someone else.
Was he not the one to think Nash useless? He cannot be useless if his own father is asking for help.
What a curious turn of events. It was a game of cat and mouse, and the Marquis was the mouse.
He is squirming in his chair, I can just imagine it!
Oh, how the tables had turned. Despite all that the man had said and done to her, she wished him no harm and hoped that the perpetrator would be caught soon.
I wonder if some underhanded dealings are happening at the estate? A nefarious plan that has come to light that the Marquis is being punished for?"
Perhaps she was clutching at air in her notions, but a startling memory about her parents surfaced, one that she had never taken the time to truly think about. Her parents’ illness had happened so suddenly that Freddi had not had the time to think of the circumstances surrounding their death.
The night before they became sickly, a great dinner had been held at the main house. All the servants had been in attendance that evening, and they had all consumed the same food.
The meal had been quite heavy, and Freddi had decided that a walk would do her a world of good. She could not have gone to bed with such a full belly and slept comfortably. Freddi had returned with her parents to the cottage, leaving them behind to enjoy their ale while she went for her walk.
Her parents rarely drank the beverage, but that night they had had some. It was when she had returned from her walk that she had noticed that the back window was open. It was strange as she had personally closed all of the windows in their cottage, and she knew that her parents would not have opened them once again that late at night.
I had thought to ask them about it in the morning, but both Mama and Papa were lying ill in bed, unable to get up on their own.
It had been terrifying to see her parents in that state when she had seen them healthy and happy the night before. Freddi had immediately called the physician, and he had declared it to be a fever brought on by a wasting disease. The diagnosis had shocked her into silence, unable to comprehend how such a thing could happen to two good people.
Mama and Papa had never complained about weakness or pain before that morning, they were as healthy as Lord Blackmore's horses!
She could not argue with the physician, but Freddi had instinctively felt that what the man had told her was wrong. Freddi had seen what a wasting disease could do to a person, and her parents did not fit those criteria. It was almost as though they had been poisoned, but who would want to do that?
No, it could not have been poison, could it? Who would have done it and how? Mama and Papa were always so careful about their food and drink. They were never ones to simply accept anything from a stranger.
Her mother's brother had died from poison administered to him by his very own wife. Alarm knifed through her body. If a wife could do that to her husband, who is to say that a servant or friend had not poisoned her parents?
No, no, that cannot be so. I must not jump to conclusions.
Was there a possible connection between the death threats that Lord Blackmore was receiving and her parents’ deaths? Nash did not mention how long his father had been receiving these threats, who was to say that they had not started around the time of her parents’ sudden illness?
“This is too much to think about! I cannot think why anyone would wish to kill my parents; it is easier to believe that they would want to harm Lord Blackmore than poison my parents.”
If she had not taken a walk that night, would her parents have been alive today? Or would she have followed them to lie in the cold hard ground? Freddi clutched her head, her mind reeling with so many possibilities.
“Think of something else, Frederica, do not drive yourself mad.”
Oddly, Mr Down popped into her head. He was another man who was adding to her pile of problems. If only he had never spoken of a betrothal! Did he think of what her parents would say if they were still alive?
He would not have asked for my hand had Papa been here. Why does he do it now?
It was not something that a man who professed to be a good friend would do. Surely he understood that no young woman would wish to marry an old man such as he and waste their youth?
He is a good man, of that there is no doubt, but I fear that he is a little misguided in his efforts to help me.
Still, what if he became her only option? Freddi cringed to think about it. She had no qualms with his profession, status, character, or anything of the sort, but his age and physique were enough to make any normal woman think twice. Freddi thought back to her younger years when Mr Down would pay visits to the cottage. He would always bring something for her, either a sweet or a pastry.
He may be a kind and generous man, but that does not mean that I should marry him!
No, she had other options, she had to have them. But what? The walls seemed to be closing in on her, and her time to find employment was running out.
I shall not give up, 'tis not the end of me yet.
There were other taverns to try, and if they did not hire her, then she would go to every place in town until someone gave her a chance. I am my father's daughter, I shall not easily give up. If only the world had not given up on her.
Chapter 6
Nash was up bright and early the next day. Despite not getting much sleep from poring over the lists that Carbunckle had given him, he did not feel tired at all. In fact, he was energised and ready to carpe diem. He knew many of the people his father had included in the list, but there were others that he was unfamiliar with. Nash wanted to start with them, to get a feel of their relationships with his father.
