Page 35 of An Execution, an Earl, and Miss Hughes
“If you want to walk to Cirencester for a leg of mutton, be my guest,” the butcher replied, unimpressed.
Sarah stood discreetly back as Mr Leek made a great show of extracting coins from his purse. He handed them over to Mr Hamley, who took them with a grudging word of thanks, then stalked from the shop without even acknowledging Sarah. Apparently, she only merited civilities when Lord Deverell was beside her.
“If it’s alright with you Miss Hughes, I’ll get the lad to serve you,” Mr Hamley apologised. “I need to step out the back a moment and—and—tenderise a side of beef.”
He disappeared into the back of the shop only to be replaced a moment later by young Mr Henderson. Even in the dimness of the shop, the young man’s blonde hair gleamed gold.
He smiled a lazy, crooked smile Sarah’s way, and for a moment, she could understand Nora and Anne’s attraction.
“What can I get you, Miss Hughes?” he asked, though as he spoke his gaze drifted to the window and he became distracted by his own reflection.
“A half-dozen sausages please,” Sarah said They would do for a quick tea on the night of the assembly and breakfast the next morning.
Mr Henderson nodded and fetched a string of coarse links from the window, wrapping them in brown paper with practiced ease.
“I do hope Mr Hamley is alright,” Sarah ventured, “Mr Leek was quite rude.”
“I expect he’s accustomed to sharp words, not everyone is as prompt with payment as your father, Miss Hughes,” Mr Henderson answered, as he tied the brown paper with string.
“Still, I would not have expected such an outburst from a man of Mr Leek’s caliber,” she offered, wondering if the show of temper might be a clue.
“He’s not half as fine as his velvet coat suggests,” Mr Henderson replied. He cast a look around the shop to be certain they were alone, then leaned across the counter.
“I saw him out walking the night of the murder,” he whispered.
“Really?” Sarah raised a brow, as her heart began to race within her chest.
“Really,” Mr Henderson confirmed, with a nod of his golden head. “When I asked him the next day if he’d seen anything suspicious, he denied being out at all. But I know what I saw.”
“I’m certain there’s no fooling you, Mr Henderson,” Sarah agreed and the young man puffed out his chest with pleasure.
“Save me a dance at the assembly, Miss Hughes,” he said with a wink, as he pushed the wrapped sausages across the counter to her.
Sarah made a vague sound in reply as she left, his words about Mr Leek echoing in her ears. Was this the missing piece of the puzzle they needed to solve the mystery? She longed to tell Lord Deverell—he would know what to make of it all.
She was halfway down the main street, mulling over why Mrs Vickery had lied for her employer, when the sound of raised voices from outside The Ring drew her from her thoughts.
She glanced up to spot Mr Treswell standing nose-to-nose with Mr Marrowbone, his arms gesticulating wildly.
“She threatened me!Threatened me!With a gun!” the solicitor howled.
Mr Marrowbone, ever unbothered, scratched at his whiskers.
“When you get down to the bones of it, all she really did was ask you to leave her garden with a prop in hand,” he shrugged.
“Shechasedme from it with agunin hand.”
“Still not a crime,” the constable replied with maddening calm. “If she’d really committed a crime you wouldn’t be here to tell the tale. Unless the magistrate says otherwise, I’m not moving from my perch.”
Mr Marrowbone gestured to the stool by the door of the pub, where Sarah guessed he had been sitting before Mr Treswell interrupted.
“Can you not add two and two together?” the solicitor hissed. “A man was shot dead on the very road where Mrs Bridgesresides. It’s clear she’s a danger to the whole village. If you don’t demand the magistrate arrest her, then I’ll go myself.”
“You do that,” Mr Marrowbone replied, as he sat himself back down. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”
He picked up his tankard as if to toast his own indolence, then sat down on his stool with a happy sigh.
The solicitor growled in annoyance and stalked off in the direction of Crabb Hall. Sarah watched him go, worry brewing in her chest. Mr Treswell was a solicitor; it was possible that if he couldn’t influence Lord Crabb to act that he might know someone who would.
