The Sinner

by C. J. Archer

  Cat spent the morning with the ladies, eating succades and sipping a sweet wine that had been stored in a cool room. She learned more about the women and their husbands, but what she didn't learn was how they knew Hughe. If the ladies could be believed, the men all simply met and became friends. Yet their different stations implied there must be more to it than that. Earls did not associate with carpenters’ sons like Edward Monk, no matter how much they enjoyed one another's company.

  "Edward and Hughe rode out this morning," Cat said idly. "The stable groom said they were going all the way to Larkham."

  Lucy shuddered. "I loathe that village."

  "Why?"

  Susanna placed a hand over Lucy's and the two exchanged a brief yet meaningful glance. "You questioned the grooms?" Susanna asked. "Why not simply ask your husband?"

  "I did." All three women went unnaturally quiet, and none met her gaze. The hairs on the back of Cat's neck rose. She'd not thought it odd that Hughe and Monk traveled to Larkham—until now. "He said he was simply going riding for the day. I thought he might come here to see your husband, or to your farm to see Cole, Lucy. It would seem I was mistaken."

  Lucy gave a nervous little laugh. "They must have thought Larkham held more appeal today. It's some distance and perhaps they needed the ride."

  "They were in the saddle all yesterday."

  She shrugged. "You know what men are like."

  "So what's wrong with Larkham?" Cat asked. "Why don't you like the village?"

  Lucy reached for a succade. "It's very…dull." She popped the sweet into her mouth rendering her unable to speak further.

  The baby gurgled in his cradle and Susanna went to pick him up. Everyone, including Cat, cooed over his tiny feet, his chubby cheeks, his adorable little ears. But all the time, her mind was on Hughe and what he could be doing in Larkham. And why were these three women keeping the secret from her? Cat liked them, and was quite sure they liked her in return.

  So why weren't they telling her the truth?

  ***

  Cat and Elizabeth rode into the village of Sutton Grange in the afternoon. Cat didn't need to purchase anything, but some of the shopkeepers were so sweet that she couldn't resist. Everyone was nice to her, and more than a few expressed surprise that Lord Oxley had found himself a wife when he seemed like a confirmed bachelor.

  "Where is your fine husband today, my lady?" asked Ann Lane, the chandler's wife. Cat had purchased a pair of heavy iron candlesticks that would suit Hughe's study with their bold masculine lines. Ann wrapped them up in a cloth while Elizabeth went to speak to Ann's husband in his workshop out the back. She left the door open and the smell of tallow soon stank out the shop.

  "He went to Larkham," Cat said.

  Ann stopped wrapping. Her brow furrowed. "What does he want to go there for?"

  Cat tried not to show her curiosity. She pretended to study a decorative lamp hanging from the ceiling. "I'm not sure. I think he had to meet someone." She knew nothing of the sort, but she seized upon the opportunity to learn more about Hughe's reason for going there. The more she thought about it, the more Cat didn't believe that he and Edward had simply gone for a ride.

  "I didn't think they knew too many folk in Larkham," Ann went on. "Indeed, I thought they avoided it."

  "They?"

  "Lord Oxley, Mr. Monk and their friends. After the problems Mr. Coleclough endured with the Larkham louts, I expected they would avoid the village altogether."

  "What trouble?"

  "Why, when Mr. Coleclough killed that man—"

  "Killed!"

  "Aye. They didn't tell you?" She frowned at the doorway leading to the workshop. "I see."

  "What happened, Mistress Lane? Why did Cole kill someone?"

  "A man called Renny did some bad things there. Mr. Coleclough heard about it, so they say, and took it upon himself to slit Renny's throat, since justice wasn't served. Only he was seen. Since no one knew the disgusting things Renny was up to, they wanted to spill Mr. Coleclough's blood. Nearly succeeded too, but it was all sorted in the end when the truth came out."

  That explained why Lucy had looked fearful when Cat mentioned the village. "Was my husband involved in this disturbance?"

  "He was here at the time, and it came out later that he and Coleclough are friends. I'm not sure how involved he was in the events," Ann said. "But he was there at the end when it got smoothed over."

  How remarkable. Why had no one told her any of this? Were the Colecloughs ashamed that Cole was a murderer? But Ann Lane made it sound like he'd brought justice where there was none. Why would he shy away from a noble act? Why would Lucy keep it to herself?

  "Why do you think Cole did it?" Cat asked.

  Ann shrugged and handed the wrapped candlesticks to Cat. "I don't know, my lady. He's a big brute of a fellow. Mayhap he thought no one else could do it."

  The sound of swishing fabric came from the doorway, but Cat saw nobody there. Had Elizabeth been listening in? If so, why?

  "Did Cole know Renny beforehand, or the people he wronged?" Cat asked.

  "He was new to the valley. Not a soul knew him here." She smiled, apparently oblivious to Cat's curiosity. "All of them are new to us here, but we couldn't imagine life without them now."

  "All of who?"

  "His lordship and his friends." Ann gave her an odd look, as if she was surprised Cat knew none of this. Cat's own surprise was growing too. "We'd never met any of them until last autumn, I think it was. First came Mr. Holt. And didn't the maidens swoon upon seeing him! But he only had eyes for Susanna. We met Lord Oxley at that time too, and some even think Mr. Coleclough was with him then, but I would have noticed a big fellow like that wandering about. Mr. Monk was working for Lord Lynden, up at the hall, but he and Lord Oxley became such good friends that his lordship asked him to be one of his retainers. So there you have it. Your husband and his men have made quite the impression on our little part of Hampshire. I only hope there's no more trouble in Larkham, although I've heard rumblings."

  Cat's breath hitched. This was beginning to sound dangerous. "What sort of rumblings?"

  "Some of those fools in Larkham who used to call themselves friends to Renny, until they learned what he did, are now blaming Renny's boys."

  "For what?"

  "For being like him."

  "But…is there any evidence that they are?"

  "Course not. But they're furious that Renny fooled them for so long, and they want to blame someone for something. They've got a notion that boys turn out just like their fathers." She shook her head and frowned. "If Lord Oxley has gone there today, mayhap he will see that it's resolved. I haven't been to Larkham myself in some time, but I hear it's an unpleasant place."

  Cat cradled the heavy candlesticks closer to her body. Why would Hughe involve himself in a volatile situation in a village that was nowhere near Oxley House? Did he feel some sense of responsibility, because Cole was his friend? But it would seem this latest situation had nothing to do with Cole.

  There was another reason, however. One that had niggled at the back of Cat's mind ever since Ann had mentioned Widow Renny and Hughe's frequent visits to the valley.

  "Is Widow Renny an old woman or young?"

  "Not old," Ann said as she packed candles into boxes. "But not young either. She's quite pretty, some would say, and gentle natured. A nice Larkham fellow wanted to wed her, but he died suddenly and she found herself alone again. Mind you, she's not short of coin, so I've been told. I don't know where it comes from. She must have a secret benefactor," she said with a laugh.

  A secret benefactor who was also an earl? Cat swallowed heavily. Widow Renny was pretty, had money, and Hughe had gone to see her. The widow must be another one of his mistresses. Either he'd simply gone to see her because he wanted to, or because she was in some difficulty and he felt he needed to help. But his mistress she must be.

  The lump in Cat's throat grew. She could feel the tears brewing, so she quickly thanked Ann. "I
need a little fresh air."

  "Aye, it does stink on occasion. We make most of our tallows in a workshop out of the village, but sometimes Mr. Lane brings them here when the smell is still strong."

  Cat left the chandler's shop and waited by the horses until she regained her composure.

  Elizabeth emerged soon after, drawing on her gloves. She had a look of grim satisfaction on her face. "Shall we return to the house?" she asked. "Or would you prefer to keep shopping?"

  What Cat really wanted to do was ride out to Larkham and see Widow Renny for herself, and find out what she meant to Hughe. But she did not suggest it. "The house," she said.

  Their grooms helped them to mount and they rode out of the village along the Sutton Hall road.

  "Is everything all right?" Elizabeth asked after they'd gone some moments in silence. "You're very quiet."

  "I'm hot," Cat said. The sun did indeed beat steadfastly down on Cat's head and a drop of sweat dripped down her back. But that wasn't why she was quiet, and for some reason, she wanted Elizabeth to know it. "Mistress Lane told me about Cole killing a man in Larkham. A terrible man, it would seem. Why has no one told me this?"

  Elizabeth was a gentleman's daughter and in that moment, it became obvious. She held her chin high, her shoulders square, and sported an air of authority, if not superiority. "We didn't wish to frighten you," she said. "It was Cole's request, not Hughe's," she added quickly.

  Cat hadn't suggested that it was. More to the point, she didn't believe Elizabeth. "Why did Cole kill this man, Renny? Did he know him? Know the families he hurt?"

  Elizabeth's shoulders slumped a little and her chin lowered. The self-assured air vanished completely. "I…I couldn't answer that."

  "Why not? Because you don't know, or because you don't want me to know?" It was perhaps unfair to confront her so directly, but Cat had no other choice. Hughe was an expert at diverting conversation away from anything serious. Cat suspected if she were going to get any answers, she would have to ask people like Ann Lane and Elizabeth.

  "Please don't ask me, Cat."

  "Very well. I'll ask something else. Why is my husband giving Widow Renny money?"

  Elizabeth swung around in the saddle. "How do you know?"

  Cat's jaw hardened so much it ached. "I didn't."

  Elizabeth's eyes fluttered closed. "I just told you, didn't I?"

  Cat opened her mouth to ask her if Hughe was coupling with the Renny woman, but she shut it again. It wasn't fair on Elizabeth, and besides, the grooms were listening. She urged her horse forward, faster. She wanted to be alone with her misery in her chambers until she could confront Hughe. Perhaps she could use the little bit of knowledge she had to leverage more answers.

  "Cat," Elizabeth said, drawing alongside her. "It's not what you think."

  "Isn't it?" she said. Of course Elizabeth would take Hughe's side. He was her husband's employer and friend.

  "Hughe cares for you very much."

  "I know." Just like he cared for Widow Renny and countless other women he was intimate with.

  Elizabeth gave a decisive nod. "Good. I'm glad that's settled. But if you have any doubts about anything, I urge you to speak to your husband. If you're unsatisfied with his answers, continue to question him. Do not give up, Cat."

  "I won't. Not this time."

  ***

  Hughe didn't return to Sutton Hall until after supper. He was hot, filthy and drained. His head was abuzz with plans, and he'd spent much of the journey back talking them over with Monk, ensuring they'd missed nothing. They stopped in the late afternoon at the stream near Stoneleigh and bathed in the cool running water. Then they went in search of their friend. They'd already told Cole of their plans when they stopped at Coleclough Farm earlier, and now they discussed it with Orlando. By the time they were finished, they were clean and dry and ready to push on to Sutton Hall.

  As soon as Hughe left the Stoneleigh lands and crossed over to Lynden's estate, he shed all thoughts of Larkham and thought only of Cat. No matter how tired he was, he would visit her again tonight. He could take her while they both looked out the window across the valley. The moon was full and the view would be beautiful. Or perhaps he could bring her to release while she rode him. He liked that position.

  He parted from Monk at the foot of the stairs and headed straight up to his chambers. Cat would probably be at supper or sitting with Elizabeth somewhere, but he should change out of his riding clothes before going to see her. How long would he have to sit with the others before it was acceptable to retreat with his wife to make love to her?

  He opened the door to the sitting room he shared with Cat and was surprised to see her there. She sat in the embrasure, her feet tucked up beneath her, looking out upon the valley bathed in the eerie glow of dusk.

  "My little Cat," he murmured. "I'm glad you're here." He tried to inject the lilt into his voice, but failed. It would seem the fop wasn't joining them tonight. He didn't care. He was going to make love to her and that meant being the real Hughe. Being anyone else didn't seem right.

  But she didn't turn around. Something was wrong. His stomach lurched as if he were ill. "Cat?" He came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She trembled.

  He sat down, trapping her skirt beneath his thigh, and cupped her face. She hadn't been crying, thank God, but something troubled her. The eyes she turned on him were filled with turmoil, hurt and something else he'd never seen in them before. Anger.

  Dread filled him. What had she found out? Had Elizabeth told her? She'd promised she wouldn't and Hughe trusted her. So who had? How much did Cat know?

  CHAPTER 10

  Hughe stroked his thumb along Cat's cheek. The skin was soft and fine, but the muscles beneath were taut as bow strings. "Cat, what's wrong?"

  "Where did you go today?" Her question was spoken calmly, casually, but the underlying steel could not be mistaken.

  Hughe silently cursed. What did she know? "I told you. I went for a ride with Monk. We stopped at both Coleclough Farm and Stoneleigh. What did you do today?"

  "I spoke to the grooms in the stables. According to one of them, you rode to Larkham."

  Hell and damnation. "We did reach that far. It's not the most pleasant—"

  "I haven't finished telling you about my day."

  He cleared his throat. "Go on, my dear little Cat."

  "Don't use that tone with me," she snapped. "Leave the fop out of this conversation. Leave him out of everything. I don't want to see him ever again."

  He swallowed and lowered his hand to take hers, but she balled them into fists. His breath quickened. He couldn't think what to do next. He, a man who was never lost for words, couldn't think of a bloody thing to say.

  "Elizabeth and I visited Susanna and Lucy at Stoneleigh this morning," she went on. "You'll be pleased to learn that none of them gave away your secrets, although I knew they were keeping something from me. By the way, I don't think it's fair to involve them in your lies. They're clearly uncomfortable. This afternoon, we went to the village. I bought some pretty lace to make into a collar and some herbs from the wise woman. Then I bought you a gift from the chandler. They're on your bed."

  "I, uh, thank you." He wasn't deceived by her emotionless retelling of her day. He braced himself. "Anything else?"

  "I learned that Cole killed someone in Larkham."

  He waited. If that's all she'd learned, it might not be so bad. "A nasty fellow," he told her. "So I heard."

  "I heard that too. It would seem Cole is to be applauded for ridding the world of such a man." She cocked her head to the side and frowned harder. "But what no one can tell me, is why he did it? Why did Cole take it upon himself to kill a stranger when he didn't know the man's victims? What's more, how did he learn of this Renny fellow in the first place?"

  Hughe lifted one shoulder. "Perhaps one of the affected families told him. Or the man's wife may have mentioned it."

  "Ah, yes, the widow. I hear she's pretty and quite wel
l off. The problem is, nobody seems to know where her income comes from."

  "Sometimes villagers take care of their own."

  "Not this village. By all accounts, the Larkham people want to take out their anger on her sons. If that were so, why give their mother coin to support them?"

  "Perhaps she has another source of income." He knew where this was heading. He was tumbling downhill, right into a bloody mess, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  "Are you that source of income, Hughe?"

  It was time for the truth. Or part of it at least. "I am." He held up his hands before she could ram him with accusations and more questions. "When I learned of her predicament, I decided to help. My friend had just killed her husband. The villagers didn't want to support her. I felt a sense of duty toward her."

  "How noble of you. Did you visit her today?"

  Hughe hesitated, quickly weighing up how much more of the truth he could get away with. "I did. I wanted to see if she needed anything further."

  "Well, why didn't you say so?" She smiled. There wasn't an ounce of happiness or relief in it. "We could have avoided these awkward questions."

  "I didn't think you needed to know about the whole affair. It's unpleasant."

  The smile vanished. "Don't lie, Hughe."

  His heart ground to a halt in his chest and turned to a lump of heavy coal. "I'm not."

  "You are. For one thing, you would have divulged where you were going today if everything you just said was the truth and there was nothing else to it. There would be no need to pretend to be out riding, yet that's what you led me to believe. And secondly, you play the fool when clearly you're not. Why?"

  "It's just the way I am."

  "Stop it," she hissed. She tried to get up, but he was still sitting on her skirt. She yanked it out from under him, tearing the hem. "Stop these lies, stop the foppish facade. I hate that fop. Hate him," she snarled, baring her teeth. Her chest rose and fell with her seething temper.

  His sweet, gentle Cat had been replaced by a ferocious woman he didn't recognize. And he had no one but himself to blame.