Someone who wanted to drown the world out. Someone who was frightened. Did Daniel suspect ill will toward him?
Walter set aside the account and opened another letter. Another invoice, this one from the tailor. The payment was long overdue. He shoved aside the rest of the letters, refusing to open another. Leaning his elbows on the desk, he dug his fingers into his hair and closed his eyes.
Daniel had been murdered.
What was the motive? Had his brother been foolish enough to get into debt with dangerous men? Walter opened his eyes and gazed at the pile of bills again. With the way he had been spending money, it wouldn’t surprise him.
“Daniel, what have you done?” Walter murmured, rubbing at his eyes.
With a sudden fire, Walter straightened in his chair. He only had a week before he would return to London. He’d be hanged if he spent it wallowing in questions, not actively searching for answers. The first thing he needed to do was cut expenses. Immediately.
He pulled out a pack of financial records and once again began shuffling through them, making a pile of expenses that were absolutely necessary and a pile they could do without. He had no choice but to talk with his mother tomorrow about the situation, but he’d come up with a plan to resolve things.
As he filed through the accounts, he caught notice of recent additions to the household servants. Walter furrowed his brows, thinking it reckless to hire on additional help when they already couldn’t afford to keep on those they had. Daniel had hired two new servants—a groom and house maid.
Confusion and frustration ignited in Walter. Why did Daniel feel the need to hire a second man when Benjamin was more than capable of handling four horses on his own? He made a note to let the new groomsman go as soon as possible. The only useful thing he had likely managed was helping haul the broken-down carriage to the blacksmith.
Walter froze, staring at the document, his vision losing focus.
Two men had been around to prepare Daniel’s carriage. One of them must have noticed suspicious behavior...or worse.
Darting to his feet, Walter rushed out the study door, only to nearly trample his mother in the corridor.
“Walter!” his mother looked him up and down. “Are you well? You look flushed.”
Walter gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. He couldn’t tell her his recent discoveries. Not yet.
“I’ve some urgent business to attend to,” he said, as he stuck a hand in his pocket feeling the pearl earrings he’d forgotten.
He shuffled his feet nervously, wondering what he should do with them. A last gift from his brother might be a comfort to her. “I have a gift from Daniel.” He drew out the earrings and presented them to her, taking note of her reaction.
His mother’s face fell as she studied the earrings. “Oh, Walter... they’re beautiful, but Daniel has already given me too much already. And frankly—” She paused, offering a sweet smile, one that Walter tried and failed to return. Her eyes held concern. “I fear we cannot afford such extravagance.”
He nodded to her, grateful she seemed to grasp the trouble they were in.
“I am looking into the accounts and am doing my best to keep us above water.”
His mother seemed to relax, and he felt like a blighter that he had not talked to her sooner about the situation. If things got any worse, he would need to inform her of the predicament they were in.
Daniel had fallen for Mr Scott’s schemes over and over again, it seemed, and he was beginning to wonder about Daniel’s true capacity to run the house properly.
He gave her another quick kiss before leaving for the stables.
He found Benjamin right away, relaxing in the afternoon sun. He scrambled to his feet when he spotted Walter.
“Good day to you, sir,” he said. “How can I be of assistance?”
“Another groom was hired about a month ago,” Walter said quickly. “Is he here?”
Benjamin nodded. “In with the horses, I believe. We’ve been taking turns, switching duties every other day.” He grinned. “Your horses have been treated like kings since you hired George.”
Walter thanked Benjamin, trying to wipe the scowl off his face as he entered the stable, where another man was brushing the stallion. He bowed when Walter walked in, not uttering a word.
Walter eyed the boy. He was young—perhaps not fifteen. His dark hair was slicked back, revealing dark eyes. The young man averted his gaze, focusing on brushing the horse.
“I understand you are the new hire,” Walter said, addressing him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Were you the one who set up the carriage the day my brother died?”
The boy hesitated. “Yes, sir.”
Walter picked his next words carefully. “Is there anything I should be aware of? Have you seen any suspicious characters around?
The groom’s brows pulled together. “Sir?”
Walter stared hard at the young man, gauging his body language, the flicker of his eyes. “My brother’s carriage failed a week ago. I have reason to suspect foul play was involved. Would you know anything of it?”
The groom shook his head in shock. “No, sir. Honest, sir.”
Walter grit his teeth in frustration. “What’s your name, boy?”
“George, sir.”
“How is it you came across this job, George?”
George absently ran a hand along the stallion’s chestnut coat. “I applied to the house, sir. My family needed my income. I had good references. Mr Longman said he liked my character well enough. Said if Apollo liked me, so did he.”
Walter gave a hard stare at the stallion before turning his eyes back to the new groom. “You’re sure you didn’t notice anything strange just before my brother’s death?”
“No, sir.” George paused his hand frozen on Apollo’s flank. “Only... I caught a maid and the groundskeeper in the stable the night before, I think.”
Walter’s stomach churned. “Did you?”
“Yes. They were...” George shuffled his feet uncomfortable. “Quite friendly with each other, sir.”
Walter sighed. There wasn’t anything too suspicious about that, he supposed. Still, he asked George for a description of the maid—short, with mousy hair. Walter felt satisfied that he had gleaned all he could from the new groom.
Walter suddenly felt incredibly tired. But he didn’t want to return to the house to face more harrowing thoughts about his brother’s death and the mountain of doubt hanging over his head.
He looked at Apollo, his fists tightening. “George,” he said, “would you saddle up the stallion? I’m in need of a good, hard ride.”
In five minutes, he was on the horse’s back, finally feeling in control again. He pushed the horse as fast as it could go, racing over the estate’s properties and veering east—toward the Hawthorne house.
As he passed, his thoughts turned to Patience and of her mother, who hated him because he was poor.
He couldn’t bring Patience into a household so burdened by debt. He rode on, letting the passing scenery blur into oblivion. Wondering how his life could have become so tangled in so short a time. And how he was ever going to get out of it.
Chapter Eight
PATIENCE COULD NO LONGER sit around the house, worrying about how Walter was faring, especially after finding out about his brother’s debts and the pressure he was under to get back to his case in London. Though it hurt to lose him again so soon, the knowledge that he still loved her gave her hope.
She set out for a walk even though it was going to rain. She tasted the humid air and looked up at the grey sky as wind whipped her hair back. Her feet carried her past the gardens, the stables, and over the hill near her parent’s property. She found the familiar dirt road that took her to the edge of the Longman estate. After walking half a mile, she spotted the familiar cropping of trees and low stone wall that marked Walter’s property.
She hesitated, looking past the wall and at the estate’s fields, green with a lush h
arvest of wheat and dotted with cows and sheep on the rolling hills. Thunder rolled above her.
Making up her mind, Patience climbed over the wall, which only came to her waist. She continued on her journey across the estate’s lands, breathing in the scent of the wet earth and listening to the twittering of birds looking for their own shelter.
Her excursion wasn’t purely out of curiosity. She had stayed up long into the night, thinking about the mangled carriage. Walter had said he wanted to solve the mystery of why the carriage had failed his brother, and she wondered if perhaps anyone nearby knew any details they might be keeping from him.
If Mrs. Longman found her— Patience put the thought from her mind. She liked Walter’s mother and believed the lady was fond of her as well. And Henrietta was the kindest person in Wallingford. Though, things had been awkward between the three of them since Patience’s mother had refused Walter. Patience had only conversed once with them after the fall out, and that was only because she’d run into them in town.
She was no longer invited to social gatherings at the Longman’s, and her mother continued to exclude them from her own picnics and parties. Patience didn’t understand why her mother had never connected with them. It wasn’t natural for influential families in the same neighborhood to be so distant.
Mud covered her boots as she picked her way across the grassy fields. Cows lifted their heads from their grazing, watching her as she passed. The first few raindrops splattered on her nose and cheekbones.
She crested a hill and spotted a farmer’s cottage. Beyond that, she could just make out the top of Walter’s home, dipping past another green hill. She walked forward, planning on finding the stable hands and inquiring about the state of the carriage before it’d been wrecked, but after about five steps, thunder clapped and the sky opened up, pouring rain onto the countryside.
Patience lifted her arms over her head, trying to keep the rain from her eyes. By the time she made it to the stables, she would be absolutely soaked through and unpresentable. But the journey home seemed just as miserable.
Her eyes landed on the farmer’s cottage. She licked her lips, tasting the cold rain. She could seek shelter until the rain passed.
Patience lifted her skirts and ran, her boots squelching in the mud. She felt her curls coming loose from her updo, but she ignored it, focusing on getting to the cottage before she was completely drenched.
The moment she arrived at the doorstep, she knocked on the door quickly and waited, pushing her wet hair out of her eyes.
A curtain moved in the window as someone peered out, and seconds later the door flung open. Before she had a chance to think, a short, round woman was pulling Patience inside.
“My dear, what are you doing out in this weather?” She looked her up and down. “You’ll catch your death.”
Patience took a moment to catch her breath. “I’m sorry. I was just passing through and... thank you for letting me inside. I didn’t expect such a downpour.”
The woman clucked her tongue. “Let me get you a towel to dry yourself off.” The woman’s eyes shot downward, and they widened. “And look at the state of your shoes!”
Patience stood by the doorway as the woman whisked away to the kitchen for the towel. A light rustling sounded to Patience’s right, and she looked around to see two small girls peeking out at her from a bedroom. They disappeared, giggling when she caught them.
The woman returned, waving a threadbare towel. “Here,” she said, handing it to Patience. “Clean up as best you can.”
“Thank you.” She sopped up her hair, taking in the cottage. It was a cozy space, with a kitchen, dining area, and two bedrooms. “I’m Patience Hawthorne. May I ask your name?”
If the woman recognized her name, she didn’t show it. “Marcy Brown,” she said. “My husband is Jeremy Brown. He’s out tending to the pigs, I believe. He’d better be in the barn, or that man will go to an early grave.”
Patience smiled, glancing toward the bedroom where the young girls had disappeared. “And you have children?”
“Yes, Lily and Rose.” Mrs. Brown smiled. “Go ahead and remove your shoes. I just cleaned the floors this week.”
Patience obeyed, unlacing her boots and sliding them off. Thankfully, her stockings were still dry. She moved further into the home as Mrs. Brown offered her a seat at the dining room table. “You’re on the Longman estate, you know,” Mrs. Brown said.
“Yes. I am a... friend of Walter Longman.”
Mrs. Brown shook her head. “Poor boy. Making his way in London and then called back home over a tragic death. Now he’ll have all those debts to worry about.”
Patience froze, freshly seated. “Debts?” How was this woman so acquainted with Walter’s personal business?
Mrs. Brown sat across from her. “We’ve heard all the gossip around town. Seems his accounts are overly due,” she said in a low voice, almost distraught. “It only makes sense that they can’t afford to keep up the estate much longer.”
Patience couldn’t believe Walter’s family business was known so widely throughout the neighborhood. If her mother knew the details, maybe this was why she’d been so obstinate in her refusal of Walter. Perhaps she thought him a fortune hunter.
She tried to tell herself it wasn’t her concern. And yet, it was. Her mother knew their constancy toward each other. Knew they had been inseparable since their youth. Walter was not after her parents’ money.
“It’s been hard on us,” Mrs. Brown continued. “We lived comfortably enough with our farm, but now that the estate is in trouble, we’re unsure if a new owner will be as good to us. The rents are low here, and we’re established. There’s no telling what a new owner will do. He puts us all at risk. The few families lucky enough to live on his land.” She shook her head as she glanced back at the room where the girls were hiding. “I’m worried for our children. This farm has always been a stability to us.”
Patience felt for the woman and her family. “I’m sorry to hear it. I can tell Mr Longman of your concerns. I know him to be generous and caring.” Her voice was soft. She thought of her own family, who had more than enough to help Walter by joining their families. “I don’t live far, and we’ve been close friends our whole life. He’ll understand your fear.”
“Bless you, child,” Mrs. Brown said. “I wouldn’t want to burden you.”
Patience shook her head. “No burden at all.”
She remained with Mrs. Brown, helping her do the wash and bake some bread while they waited for the rain to stop. Lily and Rose eventually crept out of the room and made fast friends with Patience.
By the time the rain cleared, she left having gained new friends and a new determination to help Walter. She wasn’t ready to return home, however. Her mind was full of Walter and his brother’s death. She still wanted to help him solve the mystery and felt a little hurt that he wouldn’t trust her help.
She wondered if he had gleaned anything from the blacksmith. If she was going to help solve the mystery, she needed to know everything he did.
Strengthening her resolve, Patience cut back toward town, knowing she looked washed out from the earlier rain. She avoided any and all puddles, but the mud was unavoidable in some places. By the time she reached the blacksmith, her boots were caked with mud, and she felt a little ashamed to be in the public eye in such a state.
Before she could enter the blacksmith’s shop, however, she heard her name.
Her heart leaped into her throat as she turned to find Walter striding towards her, his long coat unfurling around his legs, his face grim. He didn’t say a word as he reached her and took her arm, pulling her away from the blacksmith’s. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a low voice, continuing to steer her towards the edge of town.
“I wanted to know what the blacksmith has found out about the carriage,” she said, holding her head high.
He groaned. “Patience, why won’t you listen? This is none of your concern.”
“Why
won’t you let me help?” she demanded. “A year ago, you would have.”
Walter stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. She waited as her heart beat hard against her chest.
He clenched his jaw, looking away from her. “You distract me,” he said finally.
Heat rose to her face as he looked back at her, his expression worn and tired. “I have many matters to handle, and little time. With you around, I can’t focus my mind on the task at hand. It’s best if you keep away. Just until I get things sorted.”
Patience’s lips parted as she tried to come up with a response. “Two heads are better than one,” she reminded him. “I could help you. Please let me try.” Her heart yearned to be close to him again. To help him overcome this trial. Not long ago he would have let her and been happy about it. She didn’t like the way their new relationship was strained.
Walter shook his head, but she wouldn’t let it drop, she needed to get through to him. If she didn’t, she feared she would lose him forever.
She took his hand, not caring who witnessed it. “I will not give up on you,” she said fiercely. “You know of my feelings for you. Let me help.” He didn’t respond, so she pressed on. “I already know your financial situation,” she said quietly. “I spoke with the Browns. They are worried about the stability of the estate. The entire town knows of your financial struggles, and the farmers that tend your land are worried they will lose everything if the house is sold. Walter, you must help them.”
Walter’s eyes grew sharp. “You went snooping around my property?”
“I’m helping you, no matter what you say. I understand that you are under a lot of stress. You need my help.”
Walter let out a breath as his features softened, though she could see the stress behind his eyes.
He shook his head, a low laugh escaping his lips. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
She shook her head, fighting back a smile. Was she finally getting through to him?
The Barrister's Challenge: A Regency Romance (Heirs of Berkshire Book 2) Page 5
