Page 72 of A Secret Correspondence
“Thank you, Hokey. That will be all.”
The valet left. Samuel checked the time on his pocket watch, then tucked it away. He only had a half-hour before he needed to be on his way to Boone Park, where he intended to leave his horse for the day and ride in Oliver’s carriage to Locksley.
Best to get this business taken care of quickly.
Samuel followed the voices and found his mother with the Farrow women in the morning room. None of them were seated, causing him no small amount of distress. It did not bode well, and the pinched, angry expression on Mrs. Farrow’s face sent an unpleasant swirl through his stomach. Miss Farrow’s eyes were cast down, her mouth turned in a frown.
He approached the group, bowing.
“Should we allow the young people to speak?” Mother asked. “Hopefully they can come to an understand?—”
“I would like to hear this explanation myself,” Mrs. Farrow said, keeping her daughter protectively at her side.
Miss Farrow raised her gaze, but her expression was unreadable.
Samuel waited, but no one enlightened him. “Forgive me, but I do not know what you refer to. An explanation for what, exactly?”
Mrs. Farrow’s mouth trembled as she spoke, her anger sparking in her eyes. “For why you were seen leaving the modiste’s lodgings at the break of dawn this morning, Mr. Harding.”
Ice traveled down his spine, shocking him instantly. How had he been seen? He could admit it would have looked suspicious, but nothing untoward had occurred. Both Samuel and Marguerite were entirely innocent.
“Furthermore,” Mrs. Farrow continued, faintly shaking. “Explain why your curricle was tied to the post in front of her shop for the duration of the evening.”
Samuel closed his eyes. He had no reply. He could not absolve Marguerite without revealing the course of torture she had been subjected to of late, and even then, would these women believe him? It hardly mattered, for it was not his business to share.
“There is a perfectly valid and moral reason for my presence in Madame Perreau’sshop,” he said, emphasizing the room where he spent the duration of the night. “But it is not my business to share.”
Mrs. Farrow scoffed, and Miss Farrow burst into tears, dropping her face in her hands.
“You will, of course, release us from our contract at once,” the older woman said.
“Surely we can find a way to overcome this,” Mother hedged.
Miss Farrow’s crying grew louder.
Samuel cringed. “I vow there has not been anything untoward occurring within that shop. Upon my honor?—”
“What honor?” Mrs. Farrow spat. “You are ruined. Both of you. Mark me, boy, I shall see to it Madame Perreau shall never sew another gown again.”
He curled his hands into fists where they remained at his sides. To think he had been contemplating ways to smooth these ladies’ ruffled feelings. Now he wanted to shake some sense into them. “You would not ruin a woman on so flimsy a rumor. She has done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing? The women of Harewood deserve to know their modiste is a person of such loose moral character. Surely they would not wish to patronize her business when she is busy destroying families.”
Good grief. This woman could not have been further from the mark. “Will you see reason? Madame Perreau is innocent.”
“How can we believe you, sir? You would do your best to protect your mistress.”
Samuel rubbed a frustrated hand over his face.
“Mama,” Miss Farrow said, her red-rimmed eyes pleading. “If Mr. Harding is speaking the truth?—”
“Of course he is not,” she snapped. “Men will say anything to get their way. Look at his father.” She glanced over the room, her eyes lingering on the fraying carpet. “I thought it was suspicious that he sought you out directly after you came into that inheritance. He merely wants your money to put this house to rights.”
Heat stole up Samuel’s neck, but it was nothing compared to the scarlet of his mother’s face. There were things he could possibly say to smooth the situation. He could drag them to Oliver’s house and allow Ruth to give her testimony of his innocence. But again, that would reveal more about Marguerite’s situation than he had a right to share.
Besides, Mrs. Farrow had now insulted Samuel’s family, and he was through putting up with her. It hardly mattered that she was wrong about Samuel’s intentions. His motherhadinitially selected this woman because of her purse. He clearedhis throat and stepped back to make a space toward the door, gesturing with a sweep of his arm. “I think you have insulted us enough, Mrs. Farrow.”
Her mouth dropped open, an angry sound emitting from it. “The verygallof the man. You shall regret this!”
