Page 55 of Miss Moriarty, I Presume?
“He said it was a gentleman who sailed into the village today by the name of Brothers. This Mr. Brothers visited him because he’d heard that Mr. Young here makes a fast sloop. He later asked why a nice young man like him hadn’t married yet, and Mr. Young answered that he was in love in Mrs. Crosby, who never looked twice at him. Mr. Brothers was very sympathetic and asked whether he knew Mrs. Crosby’s given name. When he heard that it was Isabel, he said how interesting it was that St. Isabel’s feast day was on the morrow.”
Mrs. Crosby spun around to face Mrs. Watson and Miss Charlotte. “Did you arrange for this? You brought a man with you, didn’t you?”
The force of her wrath was so great that Mrs. Watson, whose teeth were beginning to chatter, nearly took a step backward. She scowled at herself and immediately advanced a step. Mrs. Crosby was not the only one who could whip out a firearm at a moment’s notice, if it came to that.
“We were accompanied to Porthangan by a member of our domestic staff,” said Miss Charlotte coolly. “But he was not involved in any mischief.”
Mrs. Crosby sneered. “You can answer so conclusively for him?”
“Indeed, since we brought no fireworks with us, not a single one,” said Miss Charlotte. She turned to face the two men below. “Mr. Young, upon informing you that the feast day would begin at midnight, did this Mr. Brothers immediately remember that he happened to be carrying with him a supply of fireworks in his boat?”
Sam Young raised his head and nodded hard. “Yes, yes, he did.”
“Did he sail away from the harbor after he gave you the fireworks?”
“Yes, Timmy and I watched him go.”
“At what time?”
“Before sunset.”
Miss Charlotte turned back to Mrs. Crosby. “Our hired boat is calledA Tide of Hope—you can send someone to check but it should still be in the harbor. And our man is staying above the pub, if you want to verify that, too.”
“Mrs. Crosby,” shouted her admirer all of a sudden, “please let me apologize. I’m sorry to have made a hash of things. I had no idea it would cause so much trouble.”
“Oh, you didn’t?” retorted Mrs. Crosby. “You thought that by setting off fireworks at an ungodly hour outside the dwelling of a woman who barely knows you, you would instead bring her honor and glory?”
Mr. Young fell mute.
Mrs. Crosby turned to Miss Fairchild. “I had better leave before I shoot this fool in full view of a child.”
Miss Fairchild, looking very tired, waved a hand, indicating that Mrs. Crosby should go. She repeated the exact same gesture to Mr. Peters.
“Mr. Hudson,” said Mr. Peters to Lord Ingram, “if you’ll keep an eye on these gentlemen, I’m going to fetch myself a mackintosh and escort them back to the village.”
The company took some time to safely get down from the wall. By the time Mrs. Watson set foot on the ground, her fingers felt as if they would lose all sensation from gripping the ladder’s piercingly cold side rails.
Lord Ingram was waiting for her at the bottom; Mr. Peters had departed with the mischief-makers.
“Let’s disperse,” said Miss Ellery. “It’s going to rain.”
Mrs. Steele, whose shoes had been drenched earlier, held on to her husband with both hands for warmth. “Well, when—when it rains,” she said, stuttering from the cold, “at least nothing else will catch on fire.”
Back at their cottage,Charlotte put water to boil and changed out of her wet clothes. Most of the water went into the hot water bottles, but Mrs. Watson also made tea. She gave Charlotte a cup as Charlotte pulled on her gloves.
“Should I come with you?” asked Mrs. Watson a third time. “I won’t be able to sleep anyway.”
Charlotte had the opposite problem. Shewouldhave been able to sleep soundly, but the events of the night were such that she could not permit herself to go back to bed yet. “I don’t have an extra hot water bottle for you, ma’am, and it’s too cold a night to remain out for long without any heat source. Rest if you can. If not, keep an eye on what you can see of the Garden.”
She took a sip of the tea and gave Mrs. Watson a quick hug. “And thank you for shielding me from Mrs. Crosby.”
How fortunate she was, to have come into this remarkable woman’s orbit.
At least the cold air outside, cutting across her face, made her feel more awake and alert. She found Lord Ingram near the meditation cabin, where he’d been watching Miss Baxter’s house.
She handed him a hot water bottle, a canteen of hot tea, and a flask of whisky. “Has Dr. Robinson left?”
“I don’t believe so. Careful.”
