Enticing Her Unexpected Bridegroom

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Enticing Her Unexpected Bridegroom Page 13

by Catherine Hemmerling


  “That would make sense,” David agreed. “Do they make birdhouses? Or birdbaths?”

  “No,” Melinda said, starting to bounce up and down, “but they did make a wall fresco for the courtyard of the Church of St. Mary the Virgin. It was commissioned by the parish priest.”

  “And are there birds in the design?”

  “Yes, there is an old yew tree next to the site where he requested the fresco, so the Potters incorporated it into the design. A flock of birds appears to being taking flight from the area where the tree is planted. It’s truly a lovely design, and it is the only fresco I believe the Potters have ever done.”

  “It sounds like a strong possibility,” David said, looking at Sarah to gauge her response.

  She nodded. “I agree. Is it within walking distance of here?”

  Melinda shrugged. “I suppose as the crow flies, but it will be faster to travel there by carriage.”

  “It’s dark now,” Sarah added. “William could have retrieved the pot and the message already.”

  “You don’t have to convince me. Carriage cushions sound positively decadent to me right now,” David admitted.

  Sarah and Melinda laughed, but it was obvious they were in total agreement. David only hoped the relative comfort wouldn’t put them all to sleep on the way to the church. It had been a long day for everyone.

  Within minutes, David had settled in next to his wife in the vehicle and the three of them were off. He hoped this would be the last stop in their quest to find the Potters. He couldn’t help but feel time was running out for Potter. The sooner he and Sarah could get all the facts, the sooner they could get rid of this nuisance charge once and for all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Affliction of evil seems to be rooted in three ailments: greed, anger, and delusion.

  —The Duke of Lancaster

  It took less than fifteen minutes to reach the cathedral, which Sarah thought was a blessing, as she had been close to nodding off. Stepping out into the brisk night air revived her somewhat, but she hoped that William would show up and soon, so she, David, and Melinda could go home and to sleep.

  Looking around, Sarah could tell the grounds were well tended, and she could just make out an ancient yew tree growing up to well over the top of the grand church. The building appeared to be gothic in structure with walls of stone and brick. It was large and grand with expansive lawns. It was too dark to see the courtyard of which Melinda spoke, but the girl seemed to know where she was in relation to the artwork, for she immediately began to head to the west side of the building.

  Sarah heard David direct the driver toward the village where the carriage was more likely to blend in. He said they would come and find the driver and conveyance when their task was done.

  When he turned back toward her, Sarah motioned in the direction their friend was headed. Within moments they had caught up to Melinda, who pointed toward the small art installment now in view. The rising moon cast enough light to see the large yew growing beside the fresco.

  As Melinda had said, there were a number of blackbirds flying as if from the live tree, over hills of farmland and meadows. It was a lovely pastoral tribute. Sarah was about to move closer to the wall when she felt David grab her arm. Turning, she saw that Melinda was already ducking under the bows of the giant yew. Following David’s unspoken urging, Sarah quickly joined her. Apparently they had heard something she hadn’t.

  Sure enough, just seconds later, from their vantage point under the tree, Sarah could make out a number of shadowy figures emerging from the side of the church. The tallest one went straight to the birds and, after a moment of fumbling around, the man removed something from his pocket and stuck it into the wall.

  “There must be a notch or something in the wall,” Sarah whispered in awe. The Potters really were a clever bunch. Whether planned or fortuitous, using the fresco was very, very smart.

  “Nicely done, Melinda,” David said, acknowledging the girl’s contribution to finding their quarry. “Now I think it’s time we met William Potter.”

  Moving quietly out from under the yew branches, David crept up behind the group still gathered in front of the wall.

  “Potter? I’m the person your wife told you about. I’m David Rochester.”

  The man made as if to run away, so Sarah dashed forward. “No William, please! Mr. and Mrs. Cole are so worried. Please let us help you.”

  Sarah was gratified to see the man hesitate.

  “How do I know you are really friends of the Coles?”

  “I’m Sarah. Sarah Jardin. Surely Mrs. Cole has mentioned me?”

  “Miss Sarah? Is it really you?”

  “You have heard of me, then?”

  “Yes, of course! Mama says you and Esther are quite close.”

  Sarah was confused. “Mama? Are you not William?”

  “No, I am Liam.”

  Nodding, Sarah said, “Their eldest son. Of course. But if you know who I am, why did your mother act as if we were strangers not to be trusted? She is Mrs. Cole’s sister, after all.”

  Liam sighed. “Mum has grown suspicious of all those outside the family, especially those of the ton. Her fear would likely override her usually trusting nature.”

  “I see. I suppose I would be distrustful in her situation, too.”

  “But now that we have found you,” David interjected, “I hope you will let us aid you.”

  “As you have found your way here, to us, I gather you are more than just the typical lord and lady. Perhaps it is time to lower our defenses and ask for some much needed help.”

  “To be fair…” David chuckled. “We did have some help finding you.”

  Out of the shadow of the tree, Melinda edged herself into the midst of the now gathered group. Liam laughed. “Melinda Wilmot, as I live and breathe. I should have known you would be mixed up in here somewhere. She is a wily thing, is she not? She has been tying Blackwood up in knots for months with all her sneaking around.”

  “She has been of invaluable help, that is certain.”

  Sarah was pleased to see the younger girl squirm with pride under the men’s praise. She deserved it.

  “Brother,” one of the younger men said, looking around them uneasily, “perhaps we should return to camp now?”

  “Yes, yes. Very good, Loren,” Liam agreed, turning to Sarah, David, and Melinda amiably. “Follow us. We’ll explain everything once we are safe.”

  Without much more ado, the now sizable group made their way back into the trees that lined the edge of the property. It seemed to Sarah they were heading to where the church ground met the cemetery. This location put them right on the edge of one of the main streets of the village.

  Waiting with bated breath, Sarah and the others watched for a signal from Liam before making their way across the street in small, hopefully inconspicuous, groups. Soon they were all in the low hills that ran behind a number of small businesses. The hills gave way to woods within a quarter mile.

  Once there, Sarah let out a sigh of relief. David must have heard her, for he again took a hold of her hand. This time she did not question his motives, but clung to him willingly as they continued to follow the Potters to locations unknown. Spy work in the middle of the night was nerve rattling, to say the least.

  Soon they came to an area of the woods even darker than any they had seen yet. As they approached the yawning darkness, Sarah realized they were in front of a group of rocks. One by one she saw the men in front of her disappear into the ominous conglomeration of stones. She looked at David, who simply shrugged.

  “‘Follow the leader,’” he said, referencing the children’s game of the same name.

  Sarah smiled and knew instinctively that her lovely husband was trying to ease her fears.

  Not wanting to disappoint him, Sarah attempted to lighten her step as they followed Liam into a dark crevice between the rocks, still hand-in-hand. Melinda was close behind, judging by the rapid breathing Sarah heard close behind he
r.

  After a few feet, the tight passage opened into a large area surrounded on all sides by towering boulders. Someone had left a single torch burning, but other than that, the clearing was pitch black. As they moved farther into the grassy round, Liam stopped to move thick branches of brush from a pile near the opening so that they were covering the passageway back to the expanse of woods. Once the egress was covered completely, more torches were lit, and Sarah could finally see where they had ended up.

  The area in which they were standing was arena-like. Large, oval-shaped, and open to the sky. Tree stumps had been brought in to provide seating around a fire pit. Next to each stump was a roll of bedding ready to be unfurled near the warmth of the fire. Around the edges were barrels and makeshift tables holding enough rations to last these men months. Naturally, pottery of all sizes and shapes could be seen among the supplies.

  Sarah had to congratulate the men on finding an ideal place to hide out. No one would know anyone was there even ten feet away from the rocks. They may hear noises or smell food cooking, but finding the way into this rocky room was next to impossible.

  Sarah wondered how the Potters had come across it, but she wasn’t given a chance to ask. Two of the boys brought forward three more tree stumps from the well-organized larder on which the newcomers could sit.

  “Is William not here?” David asked when he noticed no other men in the clearing than those they had already met.

  “No,” Liam replied. “He is even better hidden. We will see him soon, though, and will let him know you have come to help.”

  Nodding, David helped Sarah and Melinda to their seats before sitting himself. Once everyone was settled, Liam began to tell their side of the story.

  It was as they expected. William and two of his sons had snuck onto the earl’s land looking for dead wood they could collect for firewood. The earl had found them removing parts of the dead apple tree and ordered them to stop. When they ran, he had shouted after them that he would see them hanged for stealing.

  Hoping the situation would blow over, the men went into hiding. More of the menfolk joined them after Blackwood began threatening all the Potter males.

  “I don’t understand how the earl expects the officials to take his charge seriously,” Sarah said once Liam had finished his tale. “It was a dead tree. We’ve seen it.”

  Liam shook his head. “To Blackwood it doesn’t matter. Originally the Black Acts only applied to men in disguise trying to poach off the king’s lands, but over the years the conflict came to be fought between the landed gentry and those of lesser rank. We have argued that game animals and the non-maintained wooded areas, by virtue of being wild, are the property of everyone, but the landowners feel that the game and foliage on their land is their exclusive property.”

  “That is simply arrogance and foolishness,” David snarled. “If a wild deer leaves one man’s land and onto another’s, is it still his property? If he is not actively grooming the trees in the woods, how can he claim them as his? And regardless, the tree you chopped up was dead! I have half a mind to deliver all the dead trees on his land to his front porch and see what he decides to do with them. They are his ‘property’, after all. Let him keep them all in his library.”

  This brought a chuckle to the men, but the levity did not last.

  “You, sir, are clearly an honorable man. A man of common sense,” Liam replied. “I had begun to think there were no more men like you anymore.”

  “My husband is just one of many such men in my acquaintance, but I am lucky in my friendships. Many men are much too much like Lord Blackwood, unfortunately,” Sarah said sadly. “I am sorrier than I can say that you have been reduced to this fugitive state when you were only trying to provide for your family.”

  Liam nodded his thanks. “I appreciate your kind words, but in this case, my family and I think there is more to the story than just a spiteful earl.”

  “‘More to the story’?” Sarah echoed. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Wearing a serious mien, Liam said, “I believe this persecution has to do with the senior Blackwood’s last will and testament.”

  Sarah, Melinda, and David all exchanged looks of shock.

  “A will!” Sarah blurted out. “What on earth could the elder earl’s last wishes have to do with this injustice?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The haze of mystery adds enchantment to the pursuit.

  —The Duke of Lancaster

  All eyes turned to Sarah after her outburst, but really, she had only said what David, himself, had been thinking. The validity of her inquiry didn’t seem to keep her from blushing furiously, however, and David could not help but smile. The last few days had shown a new Sarah. One with more control over her limbs and mouth. It was rather refreshing, however, to see a glimpse of the girl he had known most of his life.

  “Ever since the late earl’s death, his nephew—the Blackwood with which you are familiar—has been acting very strangely. I believe Melinda can attest to his odd behavior.”

  “Melinda informed us of this the very first time we met,” Sarah confirmed.

  “He is looking for something. Something that we think would impact the title of earl. It is making him paranoid. I believe he is making an example of us as a warning to anyone else who may be thinking of trespassing on his land.”

  David’s curiosity was now piqued.

  “Why do you think the earldom is in question?”

  Liam sighed and stood up. He ran his hands through his hair and walked to a barrel of water. Using a mug next to the barrel, he took a long drink.

  With his back still to the fire, he answered, “Wishful thinking, probably.”

  He turned back around and continued. “You see, the old earl was a kind man. He provided well for the cottagers. It was also well-known that he was not fond of his brother’s son. It was rumored that he did not intend to let his nephew inherit. But in the last few months of his life, the earl began behaving oddly.”

  “Odd, how?”

  “He was seen talking to himself, and his household staff said he had become very secretive. He began locking himself in his room. His food was left at the door, and even his valet was forbidden from entering his chambers.” Liam returned to his seat.

  “It sounds like senility,” David guessed. “I have heard it can cause people to do all sorts of strange things.”

  “I don’t know,” Liam admitted, “but he seemed to think someone was watching him, going through his things. We were wondering if he felt the need to hide his will. From his nephew, perhaps? Clearly he had a secret that he didn’t want anyone to know until after he died.”

  “Why do you say that?” Sarah asked, brow creased in confusion. “Couldn’t it all have been in his head?”

  Liam nodded. “I suppose, but when the valet entered his room after two days of food had been left uneaten in the hallway and found him slumped over his writing desk, dead, the earl was surrounded by crumpled notes. Clenched in his fist was a poem written in his own hand.”

  “Now I am confused, too,” Melinda chimed in. “A poem?”

  “Was the earl a poet?” Sarah asked.

  Loren snickered. “Not if this poem was any indication.”

  Liam chuckled. “My brother makes a good point. I am not well-versed in the art of poetry, but the work did not seem very impressive.”

  “Regardless, you must think it means something?”

  “Honestly? I think the poem was meant to lead the rightful heir to the earl’s will.”

  David sat up a little straighter when he heard Liam’s hypothesis. It did make a convoluted sort of sense. If the earl was truly afraid his nephew would find out there was another heir to the title, he could have been worried that the volatile man would take matters into his own hands.

  “But who is this other heir? And how was he supposed to know about the poem?” Sarah asked, taking the words right out of his mouth.

  “We don’t know,” Liam replied. “P
erhaps the earl intended to send the poem to the man in question and died before he had a chance.”

  “Do you have the poem?”

  “Sadly, no. The only copy that we know of is in the hands of Blackwood.”

  “That must have been the paper I saw him with in his library,” Melinda said.

  “If he has the poem, how do you know what it said?” David asked.

  “The valet,” Liam said, as if it were obvious. “He was the first to read the missive. His memory is all we have to go on.”

  “Well, that won’t do,” Sarah replied dryly. “Unless he has Rose’s memory, his account is bound to be riddled with mistakes. Even the smallest difference could have massive repercussions. Especially if it is meant to lead us to something so important.”

  “I don’t know anyone with Rose’s memory skills, therefore his faulty recitation might explain the supposed quality of the poem,” David said.

  Liam shrugged. “That is possible, of course, but we still think it is the key to our freedom.”

  “I am inclined to agree.”

  “If you really want to help,” Liam said brusquely, “find the poem, find the will, find the heir. A reasonable, honorable man is our only chance. Blackwood will continue this persecution, if only to keep others off his land and out of his way.”

  David stood and, after helping Sarah and Melinda to their feet, he turned to shake Liam’s hand.

  “I agree that leaving your fate to Blackwood’s devices is as good as putting a noose around your father’s neck. We will do everything in our power to not let that happen. Stay hidden, stay well.”

  Liam and the other men, also standing, nodded solemnly.

  “May God be with you. Regardless of what happens, we cannot thank you enough for coming to our aid.”

  “Thank my wife,” David said with a smile. “It is her ability to love faithfully that has brought us here.”

  “Thank you, my lady,” Liam obliged, bowing his head respectfully.

  Sarah, for once, was silent, but David could see tears in her eyes glistening in the firelight. For her sake, he hoped they could save these men. He couldn’t imagine how she would handle any other outcome. For all her brashness and outspoken nature, Sarah clearly felt things deeply. A loss like this one could scar her forever.

 

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