by Rebecca King
“Me? No,” she replied.
She realised then that he had been watching her, and struggled to find a way to explain her thoughtful contemplation.
“I am just trying to remember if I saw anything untoward at the dinner the other evening, but cannot say that I did. I am sorry I cannot be of much help to you.”
When he continued to amble alongside her and repeatedly looked searchingly at her, she had to put some distance between them. If only so she could gather her wits about her. It was too difficult with him there.
“Look, I cannot really help you. I don’t know the village all that well, really, nor do I know many of the villagers apart from my aunt. I suggest you try the Harvells. They seem to have a good grasp of the gossip. Perhaps they might have heard something, or seen something. I have to go now but should be alright getting back by myself now, thank you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
She whirled around and hurried off without a backward look. As she practically ran toward the house she prayed he wouldn’t follow her, and was on edge all the way back to the front door. Once there, she slammed into the house and raced toward the kitchen only to slump in the doorway when she found the table empty, and Delilah in the process of pouring herself a cup of tea.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Delilah demanded in alarm. She dropped the pot onto the table with a clatter and hurried toward Sophia, who was panting for breath and struggling to form her words.
Before Sophia could say anything a rapid series of knocks on the front door broke the silence.
“It’s him,” she whispered as she threw a worried look over her shoulder.
“Who? The magistrate?” Delilah demanded in horror. Her eyes flew around the room in a panic.
At any other time she would have felt guilty for worrying her aunt, but given the trouble Delilah was causing she really didn’t care.
“No, Jebediah Hutchinson, the Lord’s son. He has been asking me questions about the trinket boxes you stole. They were his father’s, Delilah,” Sophia whispered. “You go and answer the door. He knows I lied to him when I said I didn’t know anything.”
Before Delilah could protest, Sophia shoved her in the direction of the front door.
Jeb knocked louder.
“Wait!” Sophia whispered. When Delilah looked at her, she lifted her hands up questioningly. “Where are they?”
“Hidden,” Delilah whispered secretively, and yanked the door open with an overly bright smile on her face before Sophia could demand where.
While Delilah dealt with the guest, Sophia looked askance at the cupboards in the kitchen and hoped she didn’t need to open any while the rather curious Jeb Hutchinson was in the house. With nothing else to do she went in search of a tea tray.
“Good morning, Mr Hutchinson. What a pleasure it is to see you again, and so soon as well. Come in, come in,” Delilah beckoned into the hallway and stood back.
In a desperate attempt to hide her nerves, Sophia hurried to the fire and put a pot of water on to boil. She was painfully aware of the low hum of conversation in the sitting room but was too far away to hear what was being said. She knew it was the height of bad manners to not venture in to say good morning again, even though she had already seen him, but she just couldn’t face him again so soon.
Eventually, she couldn’t delay the inevitable a moment longer, and forced herself to go in to join them.
“So, do either of you ladies have any suspicions on whom it might be?” Jeb asked when Sophia entered.
He took the tea tray from her with a smile and placed it carefully on the table. Their fingers brushed as the tray changed hands. The white hot bolt of awareness that flew up her arm branded her and left her shaken, and she hurriedly turned away before she said, or did, something foolish.
Unaware of her inner turmoil, Jeb studied her. “I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but any help you might be able to give me would be greatly appreciated. Father is at a loss, and I have to confess that so am I.”
Sophia was already shaking her head. She watched Delilah’s mouth open and close for several moments as she contemplated what to say. Eventually, she followed Sophia’s lead and also shook her head.
“I have considered the matter several times, and keep my eyes open whenever I go to these things but have yet to see anyone behaving suspiciously in any way. Of course, some people are in need of additional funds, but that is not to say they would stoop to theft. It would be foolish of me to point any finger in anybody’s direction without having proof.” Delilah adopted an innocent look and waved to the room around them. “I am certainly not in need of additional funds.”
It was on the tip of Sophia’s tongue to issue a disparaging remark about greed, but took a sip of her tea instead.
“If either of us does hear or see anything suspicious then we shall, of course, notify the magistrate at once,” Delilah continued when Sophia made no attempt to speak.
“I shall not be in the village for much longer,” Sophia declared quietly when her aunt glared at her. “But I will keep an eye out for the thief while I am here.”
If Delilah did indeed return the stolen items as promised then Sophia would be out of the village within the month. If not, then she could very well have to take Jeb Hutchinson into her confidence. At the moment, she couldn’t be entirely sure she shouldn’t have done so already.
“Where do you originate from, Miss Carney?” Jeb asked while Delilah poured everyone tea.
“Bentley in Buckinghamshire.”
Jeb nodded. He had never heard of it before and made a mental note to take a look at the maps in his father’s study later.
“Tell me, what do you do in London?” Delilah asked politely.
“I am in banking,” Jeb replied watching her.
“You must know the Faversham family then,” Delilah murmured with a hint of cunning in her eye.
“I do,” Jeb replied, “but they are not part of the banking fraternity.”
Although he didn’t move about in London’s social scene, he knew enough about the aristocracy there to know that Ernest Faversham was a good friend of his boss, Sir Hugo, and had absolutely no interest in banking except for what was in his own accounts.
“Mr Hutchinson,” Sophia began, desperate to break the rather tense atmosphere that had suddenly materialised out of nowhere.
“Call me Jeb, please. Everybody does.”
“I thought your father called you Jebediah?” Delilah said with a frown.
“Only when he is mad at me,” Jeb replied dryly.
Sophia’s smile was instinctive. Even when she knew she should be worried about his presence in the house she really quite liked him. He had a dry wit and a somewhat mischievous humour that appealed to her. She suspected he could be fun to be around, in the right circumstances.
“Well, if you are sure,” Delilah said doubtfully.
“I am sure,” he replied, but was looking at Sophia when he spoke.
“Then Jeb it is,” Sophia murmured softly. “And you must call me Sophia.”
“Sophia.”
She shivered at the sound of her name spoken in that deep baritone which had just the right hint of huskiness to it, and nodded.
She was still smiling half an hour later when he took his leave. Mainly because he had kissed the back of her hand before he left and his lips lingered far longer than necessary while his eyes held her captivated. The sensual promise hidden in that gaze sent a shiver down her spine at the same time that a wild thrill of excitement made her day that bit more enjoyable.
Unfortunately, that joy didn’t last as soon as the door closed behind him.
“Be careful of that one,” Delilah warned her darkly.
“He is nice. I like him,” Sophia replied with a hint of defiance. “You would too if you didn’t have so much to hide.”
She didn’t wait to hear what her aunt had to say. Her gasp of outrage said it all.
Jeb reluctantly left the house and made his way over
to Squire Trelawney’s next. Although he hadn’t planned to move things along so quickly, it was evident that he needed to find the thief before they stole too many more items.
He wouldn’t say so to anyone else, but deep inside rather suspected that he needed to get to work investigating the thefts with a bit more determination. If he didn’t, his stay in Framley Meadow would stretch into several weeks, or a month or two, and he would never want to leave again, especially with Sophia in the village.
Still, he made no attempt to consider the suspects as he walked. Instead he began to mull over his stay in Framley Meadow. In just a few days it had already started to feel like home. In fact, as he made his way over to the Squire’s house, he tried to think of ways to persuade Sophia to stay in the village so he could become better acquainted with her. She had made it clear that she was due to return to Buckinghamshire soon but, hopefully, she could extend her stay in the village if he found an adequate reason for her to do so.
He then realised that if he did persuade Sophia to stay then he had to remain in the village as well. Strangely, he didn’t find that prospect disconcerting at all.
Back at the house, Sophia only managed to get halfway up the stairs before Delilah’s sniping began.
“How dare you be so pious in my house?” she demanded loudly.
“Pious? Me?” Sophia gasped in outrage. “You are a thief. I am merely pointing out your crimes and the consequences. I am sorry if you don’t like it, but I am sure the people whose things you have stolen don’t like you helping yourself to their belongings. You are a thief, Delilah. Does that not mean anything to you at all?”
“I am running out of money,” Delilah snapped. “You are here to remind me of that fact, remember? You have no idea how expensive things are these days. There are household bills, food to buy, and I need a new dress.”
“No, you do not,” Sophia all but shouted at her.
Before her aunt could protest, she grabbed Delilah’s arm and marched her up the stairs to the spare bedroom. Throwing open the door, she waved into the cluttered room.
“Look at all of that. There must be a hundred dresses in here, with ribbons, hats, shawls, boots, and gloves, and anything and everything else you need to go out to a hundred occasions. Believe me when I tell you that you do not need another dress. You want a dress, but do not need a dress. This is rampant greed. It is ridiculous to purchase more.”
“They are old,” Delilah protested.
“Look at these,” Sophia demanded. She knew she had just made her aunt angry but didn’t care. “Some of these have hardly been worn. You don’t need to spend money you don’t have to on anything else. You can use these.” She randomly picked up a dress and sneezed when a cloud of dust billowed out of the disturbed fabric. “This needs airing a bit, that’s all. It hasn’t been worn for an age. Nobody would be likely to remember it. Look at it, Delilah? When did you wear it last?”
When Delilah merely frowned at it but didn’t speak, Sophia felt that age old sinking feeling. “Have you even worn it?”
She knew from the blank look on Delilah’s face that she didn’t even recognise it. “Look at it. With a few ribbons removed, and a feather adornment here and there, it can be altered to look completely different. You have nothing to do with your afternoon. Spend some time adjusting what you have and you can save a veritable fortune.”
Determined to get her aunt to see sense, she rummaged around until she found an old valise crammed with buttons, lace, and feathers, and selected several feathers. She carefully arranged the dress on the floor and rearranged the feathers around the shoulder area in an eye-catching arrangement that made the dress look completely different.
Delilah tipped her head to one side and rearranged the feathers a bit, and shook her head in disbelief. Thankfully, some of her anger melted away, but she still looked peeved.
Still, Sophia was not one to give up easily and nodded at the rest of the room.
“There is enough here that we can adjust slightly to give you an entirely new wardrobe that will be the height of fashion, and it won’t cost a penny. Look at this beautiful dress. This is perfect for Friday. All you need to do is add this fetching shawl and that reticule. Look at the new outfit you can wear, Delilah. It is wonderful. How could you not like this?”
“I didn’t realise,” Delilah whispered. It was evident from the thoughtful look on her face that Sophia had her hooked.
“Why don’t we rummage through this lot and select several outfits. We can then go through everything, clean it all up, and set about altering it. I can sew. Let’s get to work and sort you out an entirely new wardrobe that is so fresh nobody will realise you have worn any of it before. We can add some beading to the shawl, and a button or two to the reticule, and it will look completely different.”
Silence settled between them for several moments before Delilah nodded.
“It sounds fantastic,” she enthused. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. It is a perfect idea. But you must help me.” She frowned somewhat childishly at Sophia, her mouth pursed.
“Of course I can help. We have nothing else to do,” Sophia replied.
She heaved a sigh of relief that it had been relatively easy to convince her aunt to see life a little differently and, stolen items temporarily forgotten, both ladies began to rummage through the various items littered about the room.
Lost in the art of recreating Delilah’s new wardrobe, it was the first evening since Sophia had arrived in Framley Meadow, that neither lady ventured out of the house.
The following morning, thrilled with her success of the previous day, Sophia let herself out of the house and ventured into the village for some provisions. The sun was shining brightly, although dark clouds were already gathering on the horizon and they weren’t just weather related.
Once in the butcher’s shop, she stood in line to wait for Delilah’s regular order, and listened absently to the chatter the ladies in front of her exchanged.
“Well, I said that she should stay at the tavern at night but nobody listens to me. Why, my Wilf has always said that this is a quiet village and she is perfectly safe, but I always said that she should have an escort or something. I don’t know what her father thinks he is doing letting a girl of her age wander about unchaperoned at night.”
Her companion nodded. “She has always been a little flighty, but I just cannot see her running away with anyone. I mean, who with? The magistrate has already checked all of the eligible men in the village, and some who aren’t.” The ladies exchanged knowing looks as if to say ‘mentioning no names’, and continued. “Nobody has been reported missing except for Tabitha, and nobody knows where she has disappeared to. It is a mystery to us all I don’t mind saying.”
“Well, I have it on good authority that she has been seeing that Tyler Baltrain boy over in Romsfield. I just don’t know how her father can allow it.”
“Ladies’ what can I get you?” The butcher interrupted. He threw a rueful look at Sophia.
Sophia smiled and turned her attention to the road outside while she tried to remember who Tabitha was. Once the ladies had left, she found that she was the only customer in the shop and took the opportunity to speak with the butcher; a kindly man who, just like the Harvell ladies, had a tendency to gossip.
“Tabitha?” Sophia murmured with a frown. “I am sorry. I couldn’t help but overhear them. Why does that name sound familiar to me?”
“It is Tabitha Lester, from the tavern. She is one of the barmaids who work there at night. She also works as a milk maid over at the farm during the day as well. You have probably seen her rushing here and there. She is always rushing, that one, with nary a moment to spare. Not in the tavern, of course.” He smiled at her. “But probably on her way back from the dairy in the morning. She is about your size with yellow hair, and talks with a bit of a lisp.”
Sophia nodded when she suddenly remembered who Tabitha was. “Has she run away?”
“No.
Well, we are not sure.” The butcher looked solemn for a moment. “She left the tavern last night and hasn’t been seen since. She didn’t turn up at home like she should have. Her father waited up for her but when she didn’t return on time, he went to the tavern to look for her. Mr Morley told him she had left on time. She just vanished somewhere between the tavern and home. Nobody has seen her since. It is a mystery.”
“Good heavens,” Sophia whispered.
“I can’t see that she would have run away,” the butcher confided. “She is a good girl. I know women like those two tend to gossip, but it is best not to pay them too much attention. It is what they do, I am afraid, but they are wrong. Tabitha lives for her family. Why, I don’t think she has been out of the village since the day she was born. She is too busy working. You can set your timepiece by her. She always leaves the tavern on the button because she knows her father is waiting up for her, and always sets out for the farm just after dawn because she knows the cows are waiting for her. It’s highly unusual for her to vanish like this. Now, if it were Megan McGuire who vanished I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. She is flighty. Tabitha?” He shook his head. “No. You mark my words. This will end with sorry news, I don’t mind saying. She isn’t the kind to run off.”
“Are people looking for her?”
“Yes, half of the village are out, along with the labourers at the farm and the Lord’s men.”
“Let’s hope they find her,” Sophia whispered, disturbed by the morning’s revelations.
She accepted the bundle of meat off the butcher with an absent nod, paid him, and made her way out into the morning sunshine. This time, though, Sophia didn’t absorb any of its warmth with a grateful smile. She shivered, especially so when the sun was briefly obliterated by increasingly darker clouds. When she looked toward the sky, a sense of foreboding swept through her.
You are fanciful Sophia, stop it, she mused as she forced her mind to more thankless tasks like getting the rest of the shopping.
As she went on her way, though, she found herself searching for the reassuring sight of Jeb. It was only when she entered the grocer’s shop and found it completely empty that she realised just how quiet the village was.
