it was roughed her up pretty bad when she tried to resist." His voice became edged with a sharp anger. "And that ain't the worst of it, Eliza, though perhaps I ought not be speaking of such things, you being unmarried and all."
"Nonsense," she responded. "I'm certainly old enough not to be shocked by the ways of the world. Of course you can speak of such realities without fearing I shall fall into a fit of vapors." Her mouth compressed in a tight line. "Poor Mary. Do Will or his neighbors have any idea of who might have done such a horrible thing?"
"No." He took a long swallow of his tea, then fixed her with a searching look. "But you may rest assured that if anyone has any information on who the cowardly dastard is, he'll be dealt with sure enough."
Eliza bit her lip, trying to decide just how to reply. On one hand, she wished to protect her sister. The attack itself had been terrible enough without having Meredith's reputation being bandied about by the local wags. Yet such circumspection warred with the desire to see justice done.
Or was it vengeance? She couldn't help but hear the echo of the earl's words as she pondered her decision. A part of her acknowledged that perhaps justice was best left to the proper authorities. Toying with her spoon, she countered the admission by recalling the bitter truth of the Marcus's other words—a title and money had more to do with the magistrate's brand of justice than the right and wrong.
No, this was not about vengeance, she assured herself. It was about stopping a vile monster before he harmed yet another young girl. Good Lord, it appeared he had already struck again, perhaps in part because of her very silence.
To quell any further debate with her conscience, she also reminded herself that Ned Laskin was a man of solid character, and well-respected within the village. Surely there was no harm in letting drop certain information, so that someone else might help in deciding what ought to be done.
A bit of the cake crumbled in her fingers. Then, mind made up, she finally spoke. "Did anyone note whether the Earl of Killingworth's nephew was seen in the area?"
Ned's eyes narrowed. "You think I should inquire?" he asked slowly.
Eliza chose her words carefully. "I believe there is an old saying in one of my father's books that goes something like this—the apple rarely falls far from the tree. Are you familiar with it?"
"Aye. I've heard that one, too." He took his time in finishing off the last of his tea. "Well, I had best be on my way." As his hands carefully folded the cotton napkin into a neat square, Eliza couldn't help but notice that his knuckles were hard and fissured as chunks of granite. "There are things that need attending to."
"Ned—"
"Thank you for the tea, Eliza. And for making the meaning of some of them old riddles more... clear to a simple man like me." He rose and tucked his cap under his arm, not before fixing her with a steady look. "You know, I have always thought you were a female of uncommon good sense."
Chapter 6
Meredith lifted her skirts and started to climb over the low stile. The snap of a twig caused her flinch, but as a grouse broke from a nearby thicket, she forced a rueful smile at her own skittishness and cleared the last step. Just as she had figured, a scattering of mushrooms were poking up within the copse of trees fringing the pasture. Despite the deep shadows playing beneath the overhanging limbs, their speckled caps, still damp from an early afternoon shower, were faintly visible among the thick roots.
The breeze ruffled her hair as she drew in a deep breath. She found herself savoring the cool touch of it on her cheeks and the wafting scent of wet leaves and sunlight, rich with the earthy promise of spring growth. Happy to have made the first steps at recovering her confidence, Meredith moved slowly toward the secluded glade. Heedless of the raindrops still clinging to the bed of moss, she knelt and began to dig
"Nonsense," she responded. "I'm certainly old enough not to be shocked by the ways of the world. Of course you can speak of such realities without fearing I shall fall into a fit of vapors." Her mouth compressed in a tight line. "Poor Mary. Do Will or his neighbors have any idea of who might have done such a horrible thing?"
"No." He took a long swallow of his tea, then fixed her with a searching look. "But you may rest assured that if anyone has any information on who the cowardly dastard is, he'll be dealt with sure enough."
Eliza bit her lip, trying to decide just how to reply. On one hand, she wished to protect her sister. The attack itself had been terrible enough without having Meredith's reputation being bandied about by the local wags. Yet such circumspection warred with the desire to see justice done.
Or was it vengeance? She couldn't help but hear the echo of the earl's words as she pondered her decision. A part of her acknowledged that perhaps justice was best left to the proper authorities. Toying with her spoon, she countered the admission by recalling the bitter truth of the Marcus's other words—a title and money had more to do with the magistrate's brand of justice than the right and wrong.
No, this was not about vengeance, she assured herself. It was about stopping a vile monster before he harmed yet another young girl. Good Lord, it appeared he had already struck again, perhaps in part because of her very silence.
To quell any further debate with her conscience, she also reminded herself that Ned Laskin was a man of solid character, and well-respected within the village. Surely there was no harm in letting drop certain information, so that someone else might help in deciding what ought to be done.
A bit of the cake crumbled in her fingers. Then, mind made up, she finally spoke. "Did anyone note whether the Earl of Killingworth's nephew was seen in the area?"
Ned's eyes narrowed. "You think I should inquire?" he asked slowly.
Eliza chose her words carefully. "I believe there is an old saying in one of my father's books that goes something like this—the apple rarely falls far from the tree. Are you familiar with it?"
"Aye. I've heard that one, too." He took his time in finishing off the last of his tea. "Well, I had best be on my way." As his hands carefully folded the cotton napkin into a neat square, Eliza couldn't help but notice that his knuckles were hard and fissured as chunks of granite. "There are things that need attending to."
"Ned—"
"Thank you for the tea, Eliza. And for making the meaning of some of them old riddles more... clear to a simple man like me." He rose and tucked his cap under his arm, not before fixing her with a steady look. "You know, I have always thought you were a female of uncommon good sense."
Chapter 6
Meredith lifted her skirts and started to climb over the low stile. The snap of a twig caused her flinch, but as a grouse broke from a nearby thicket, she forced a rueful smile at her own skittishness and cleared the last step. Just as she had figured, a scattering of mushrooms were poking up within the copse of trees fringing the pasture. Despite the deep shadows playing beneath the overhanging limbs, their speckled caps, still damp from an early afternoon shower, were faintly visible among the thick roots.
The breeze ruffled her hair as she drew in a deep breath. She found herself savoring the cool touch of it on her cheeks and the wafting scent of wet leaves and sunlight, rich with the earthy promise of spring growth. Happy to have made the first steps at recovering her confidence, Meredith moved slowly toward the secluded glade. Heedless of the raindrops still clinging to the bed of moss, she knelt and began to dig
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