Page 18 of An Earl's Scandalous Return
“Breakfast is here,” he said, grateful that he had something to say to her.
She nodded, but then she went to the bed, sitting atop it again. “Can we eat here?” She looked at the floor nervously, and he nodded, remembering her fear of the mouse.
He brought the tray to the bed, and together they ate. It was a companionable thing to do, something one might do with their husband or wife, but he had to remind himself that they were far from that. He was there to help his friend and to find his way to hurt her as she had hurt him.
“Today, I think we should go to the village and ask for the man named Gregory. We know the letter came from Hamfield, and we have the man’s first name if nothing else,” Edward said.
He kept his eyes on his food, not wishing to think about how lovely and disheveled she looked, her pins falling from her hair and the blonde curls hanging haphazardly around her shoulders, dawn light catching on the golden strands.
Nodding, Arabella replied, “Yes, I think it is a fine plan. Although I’m not certain where we are to start. But I suppose the fact that we know he can write is a helpful thing.”
He nodded and took a bite. “Yes, so we can start with the upper tradesmen of the village: booksellers, postmen, and the like.”
“Very good.”
They spoke for a little about the plans, and when he turned to look at her at one point, she reached out for his face, her fingertips brushing against the corner of his mouth.
“You had something, a crumb,” she said shakily before she pulled her hand away and looked back at her food. “I’m sorry.”
Edward’s lips tingled with the warmth of her touch, and he, too, faced his food once more, noting the impossibility of remaining so close to her. And yet, what could be done? They would have to suffer this until they had accomplished their mission. Had Alvin any idea what he’d subjected them to?
An hour later, they were both dressed and ready to brave the village. Edward was certain they would be able to find some answers, and then they could go home. His duty could be dispatched, and he could return Arabella to her brother and stay the hell away from her.
For as they walked into the village, arm in arm, pretending to the village of Hamfield that they were man and wife, it felt a little too real.
This is what it could have been before Arabella chose to break my heart. Before she played me like a twisted game.
She looked all too lovely in a blue gown and spencer, with white gloves. Her smile was quick and bright as she spoke to the villagers, and Edward had to work hard to keep his mind on the task at hand and not on what had nearly happened in the inn bedroom.
Nothing came of their search, however. They spoke to blacksmiths, bookshop owners, and other tradesmen, all stating that they knew of no Gregory living nearby. A little dejected, the two of them made their way to the small post office at the end of the street.
“I suppose we might have started here,” Arabella said as he opened the door for her, and she strode inside.
“Welcome, strangers. It seems you are the talk of the town. We do not get a lot of visitors here, that’s to be sure.” The postman nudged his glasses with his knuckle and gave them both a toothy grin. “What can I do for you?”
Arabella looked at Edward briefly before she began, “Well, sir, my husband and I are interested in finding a particular someone. We know his name is Gregory, and he sent us a letter from here in Hamfield. However, we cannot find him, and we are in great need of locating him.”
Edward smiled at the little blush on the postman’s face as Arabella made her smiling entreaty. He nearly felt sorry for the poor man, for he knew what it was like to be faced with such a smile.
“Gregory …” the man drummed out a rhythm with his fingertips on the wooden counter. He turned away and went to get a large tome, returning to lay it on the counter. He opened it and scanned the page with his fingertip.
“Yes, I remember. It was odd since I haven’t seen a Gregory in this village for many years. As I said, we don’t get many visitors. He posted the letter from here, but he told me he travelled from … Kent, I believe it was, to do so.”
Edward’s shoulders sank with relief, and despite his anger from the morning, he smiled at Arabella when she turned back to look at him.
“Kent,” Edward repeated. “We shall go there then. Any chance you know the village?”
“Maidstone, I believe, sir.” He scratched his head and nudged his glasses again.
“Although I can’t be certain. But you should know the man came back a few days ago to collect an envelope. It was a bit heavy, so it was, which was one reason I remembered it so well. Not many interesting things pass through here.”
“Thank you. You have been very helpful.”
They both thanked the postman and left, Arabella clutching his arm again. “Dear God, Edward, do you think the envelope could have been money? From someone who is also in danger of losing their secrets?”
“Yes, I think it very likely. Although who, it remains to be seen.”
Chapter 20
