Page 41 of The Villain's Fatal Plot
The lady introduced as Miss Thea Talbot intervened. “I believe Mr. Culliver, her solicitor, is still here. I will introduce you later. Lavender, are you looking for someone?”
Visibly unconcerned with the adults, the young seamstress gestured at the stairs. “Have Mr. Birdwhistle and the boys returned to the schoolroom? We need to ask about schoolbooks.”
“I believe they’ve moved their activities to the next floor. Arnaud says these stairs are not safe for them to use until a stair rail is installed. They’ve opened up the door into the attic, so they’re running up and down.” Miss Talbott turned her attention to Verity. “My little brother might benefit from having a largercircle of playmates. I will gladly help should you choose to set up a schoolroom.”
“I would love to be useful. Might we climb the stairs to see if the tutor is still there?” Verity’s curiosity ate at her. How many people did the manor hold and were all of them this helpful? She hoped they followed through on their promises. She was growing excited by the possibilities—if she were allowed to stay.
“If you cling to the wall, I suppose.” Miss Talbott glanced dubiously at the smooth stones. “I cannot imagine how they’ll add rails.”
The broad gentleman in shirtsleeves returned up the stairs to catch this last. “They’re all hoping to find more pirate treasure in the walls, so they’ll pound all day to cut through stone.” He bowed before Verity. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced?”
He was amazingly handsome, more so than scarred and half-blind Captain Huntley. But even in his graciousness, this gentleman didn’t leave her as breathless as Rafe, who was now taking the dangerous stairs upward two at a time. My goodness, the air in the tower must be affecting her. She feared she was having heart palpitations watching Rafe’s... She dragged her attention back to the company.
Lavender hastily performed the necessary. “Mrs. Verity Porter, Arnaud Lavigne. Arnaud is a French count but says titles are meaningless. Let’s go upstairs. I want to see what they’ve done up there.”
Verity could have lingered longer talking with these fascinating people—and avoiding Rafe—but she obediently followed in Lavender’s wake, aware that they were taking time from her work. She didn’t wish to be a hindrance.
“Pirate’s treasure?” she asked as they climbed, one hand lifting her overlong hem to keep from tripping and leaning on her cane with the other. She didn’t have a spare hand for gripping walls.
“One of the earls was said to be a pirate, but we’ve already found his treasure. He left doubloons in the wall. It’s the last earlwho hid the family jewels, or sold them, we don’t know. Stories grow into legends, Mr. Birdwhistle says. I think he came here looking for treasure too. Minerva says he isn’t really a tutor, but she won’t say more.” Lavender reached the top of the stairs and surveyed another scene of construction clutter. “There he is.”
Verity saw Rafe first, talking with the stoop-shouldered Blackwells. Rafe raised his head when she appeared. He still wasn’t smiling at her, and her heart sank. She had come to depend on him too much. She hurriedly glanced to the young man with his students.
The tutor who wasn’t a tutor smiled in delight at Lavender’s call. Verity could certainly understand why. They were two handsome young people, and in any ordinary circumstance, should be courting, she suspected. She wasn’t certain what prospects a tutor and seamstress might have, though.
“This is Mrs. Porter, who is interested in starting a village school.” Lavender made an improper introduction. “She will need primers to go with the other books Miss Edgerton left. And Thea thinks Davey might attend to widen his circle of friends.”
Verity noted that the young boys paid little attention to the conversation. One was using a measuring string on top of a ladder and calling numbers down to the other, who was drawing lines on a large piece of paper. Despite not looking much older than beginning students, they appeared to be working at a more advanced level than she could teach.
Slender, not over tall, the handsome tutor appeared interested. “That might be beneficial for Oliver as well as Davy, for a short time each day. Perhaps I could tutor a more advanced class during those hours?”
Verity thought she must have died and gone to heaven. She had never met so many kind and helpful people in her life. “I would be honored,” was all she knew to say. “We still have a lot of organizing to do, and I’m not certain how to gather the supplies needed. Mr. Upton has offered the chapel until we come up with something better.”
“The chapel has no chimney. You will freeze in winter. I’ve been thinking about uses for the attic storage.” Mr. Birdwhistle gestured at the area where workmen were repairing a staircase. “Miss Talbot is removing the old furniture. It has windows for light, and I believe they’re opening up a connecting chimney. We should speak to the captain.”
“I’m going back to work. I’ll leave you to schoolrooms. I never want to see the inside of one again.” Lavender abandoned them to return downstairs.
“Your bailiff friend is speaking with the men in charge of the construction. I’ll tell them what we we’re thinking.” Impervious to Lavender’s dismissal, Mr. Birdwhistle offered his arm.
Verity didn’t think the tutor was so very much younger than she. Wouldn’t it be fun to dance around a ballroom on his arm? Well, it would be entertaining to dance anywhere, with anyone, she supposed. She’d missed out on so much...
Rafe was practically glaring at her, so she ignored him and turned her attention to the workmen who had returned to hammering doors. Apparently, they were too busy to talk to a tutor. Or to be polite.
“We’re discussing opening a schoolroom in the attic. Do you think we might disturb the workmen so I may show Mrs. Porter? Once the stairs in the tower are safe, students should be able to use them, shouldn’t they?” Utterly oblivious to Rafe’s glare, the tutor studied the work progressing on the doorway.
“I was discussing inn repairs with the Blackwells,” Rafe grudgingly admitted. “We’ve probably disturbed their work enough. You should look for Arnaud. He appears to be directing the plans.”
Mr. Birdwhistle sighed. “This is the problem with community projects. One must spend a lot of time looking for the right people to do the right thing. I can’t abandon my students, Mrs. Porter. You’ll most likely find Arnaud wherever you find Miss Talbot.” He returned to assisting the boys in their measurements.
Leaving Verity with Rafe.
Stiffly, she informed him, “The furniture couple want to see Miss Edgerton’s portfolio, and I believe the merchant wishing to open the hardware brought Mr. Culliver in to offer for the cottage. I do not know any of them, but they were here when Miss Edgerton died. Should we check Mrs. Prescott’s wardrobe for a black bonnet and old-fashioned skirts?”
TWENTY-FIVE: PAUL
Paul feltlike a judge attempting to separate warring neighbors.
He had no understanding of why the usually genial bailiff was practically growling, or why the demure widow had become adamant about investigating business people who might aid the manor. But they’d asked for aid. He should offer what he was able.
