He wanted to ask her to dinner, but he hadn’t been out with anyone in several years.
After the divorce, he’d gone out frequently with different women to prove to himself he still could interest women, yet he’d never committed to seeing anyone more than once—until Susannah.
But he had to be cautious. After her indifference at the meeting, he wasn’t sure what was going on, and now he couldn’t reach her by phone.
A voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Colin, we need to finish if you’re going to get this flat on the market soon.”
He ended the call, tucked his phone into his pocket, and turned to his assistant. “Yes, Sophie, I want to sell as soon as possible. I won’t have need of it anymore. Whenever I am in Paris on business, it’ll likely be a shorter stay, so I’ll go to a hotel. I’ll be spending more time in Neville in the future.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “So, what’s on in Neville that would keep you there more often?”
“Sophie, you’re incorrigible.” But he said it kindly. “That’s something I’m still waiting to see the outcome. At that time, I’ll be happy to share it with you.”
She shook her head, short coal black hair swinging from side to side, and grinned sardonically. “Sure thing, Colin. But I have a hunch it involves a very special woman.”
Chapter 18
New York City, New York, U.S.A.
2019
Ryan, there’s a call for you,” Janet told him as he entered the office with takeaway coffee and his laptop bag.
“This early?” He glanced at his watch to see it was just now eight. He smiled and shrugged. “Business must go on.”
Janet’s eyes widened. “You’re uncharacteristically cheerful this morning, Mr. I’m-not-a-morning-person.”
He gave a playful grin. “Droll, Janet, very droll.”
Ryan settled at his desk and picked up the phone. “Ryan Wilkinson speaking.”
“How are you?” His Aunt Diann’s voice sounded so different from their last meeting in this office. “I tried your cell but couldn’t get you.”
“Sorry, I didn’t see a missed call. I assume you got my email.” Ryan leaned back and cautiously sipped his steaming coffee.
Diann gave a deep sigh before speaking. “Yes, thank you. And, yes, I forgive you.”
He could tell she was fighting tears—her voice strained after a brief silence. “Thank you for agreeing to help clear your mother’s name.”
“I’m meeting with an attorney this afternoon. The money from the cottage sale should cover the cost. I’ll take care of anything more, should there be a need.”
“I’m so relieved you’re going ahead with this, though it may take some time. Our justice system is painfully slow.”
“Aunt Diann … I have one of the best attorneys in the city on the case. His name is Vernon Sturdivant and comes highly recommended.”
“Will you please call me after you meet with him? I’m anxious to hear what he has to say.”
“Sure … I’ll call you tonight. Guess I’d better get to work so I’ll be able to meet with him this afternoon. Have a good day.” He grew silent. “Aunt Diann …”
“Yes, Ryan?”
He cleared his throat. “Aunt Diann, I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetie.” He heard her tears break free before she ended the call.
∞∞∞
Ryan shook hands with Vernon Sturdivant after their initial introduction. Vernon motioned for him to take one of the chairs facing his imposing black oak desk. Vernon was an average looking man. He was of average height, weight, build, and had average features. That was his camouflage.
In court, his opponents assumed he was average in every possible way—harmless. They relaxed, let their guard down. Yet, Vernon was not a man of average intelligence, or talent, in his field of expertise. He knew how to use his powerhouse of knowledge to his client’s best advantage. He casually flipped through a file and stated that he used technology when necessary for backup only. He made a few remarks from what he saw regarding the case and made direct eye contact with Ryan.
“Mr. Wilkinson, I’ve reviewed your mother’s case very closely.” He paused dramatically. “I’ll take the case, but I must tell you that it will be quite difficult to wipe the slate clean for her. She was caught and recorded in the act of inciting to riot. You’re fully aware of the implications?”
Ryan shifted in his seat. “I see, so you don’t believe there’s much of a chance whatsoever of exonerating her?”
“I didn’t say that. I believe it’ll be difficult and may take some time. This is a preliminary meeting to see where we’re headed. I see the various newspaper clippings here outlining what she was involved in. There were numerous witnesses. We’ll have to take this to court in order to clear her name. It won’t be something put before a judge in his chambers and decided upon immediately. The laws are shifting rapidly on these types of charges … and they are not in favor of the accused I’m afraid. I’m a lot older than you, Mr. Wilkinson. This country is changing—and I must say not for the better.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. At least, I do now. There was a time not so long ago that I would’ve disagreed with you.”
“I shudder to think what it will be like when you have grown children.”
He’d never given it a thought. Had he contributed to the chaos?
Suddenly coming to mind was the e-mail he’d sent his Aunt Diann before going to England. After their confrontation in his office, his mother’s arrest had laid hard on his mind and heart. He struggled with it for days and finally came to the conclusion that he had to try and clear the dark stain on her name.
E-mailing his aunt and apologizing was the first step, and his offer to get legal aid and sell his mom’s cottage to fund it. Snapping out of his trance, he asked Mr. Sturdivant what they would do next.
“I’ll have one of my assistants contact the witnesses who were there the day of the incident in question and find out why they waited so long to arrest her. Apparently, some time had lapsed because she had time to move to the U.K. We may need to hire a private investigator as well. Do you have a problem with that expense?”
Ryan took a deep breath. “No, sir. Whatever it takes.”
Mr. Sturdivant stood and extended his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting with you, Ryan. Please call me Vernon. I can assure you that I’ll do whatever it takes.”
With sincere gratitude, Ryan shook his hand. “Thank you, Vernon. I greatly appreciate it.”
∞∞∞
Ryan’s hand hovered over the phone. He snatched it up and dialed Diann’s number. The piercing ring in his ear gave him something to focus on.
“Hello, Ryan.” Diann answered softly.
“Hi, Aunt Diann. Do you have a minute?”
“Yes, are you all right?”
“Yes and no.” He paused. “Mr. Sturdivant said this is not going to be easy. That’s the nutshell version. He seems an extremely competent man and he said that he will do all within his power to fix this, but that it could take time.”
“I see.” Diann murmured.
“He said he’d get back with me in a few days.”
“I suppose there’s nothing else to do now but wait. Please keep me posted. I’ll be praying—I know you don’t like to hear that—but there it is.”
Ryan’s voice was barely above a whisper before he ended the call. “Aunt Diann, pray hard.”
∞∞∞
Neville, North Yorkshire, England
2019
April! Would you get the door?” Polly yelled toward the Books-on-the-Green office. “I heard the bell, and I’m up the ladder.”
April pulled her gaze from her bookkeeping. “Certainly. Headed that way.”
She stepped into the front of the shop. “May I help …” She met Tristan’s eyes.
“Hello. What brings you out so early in the morning?” She caught sight of the burden he was trying to juggle and close the door at the same time.
“I brought you and Polly some tea, scones, and such. Where is she?”
“That’s sporting of you. Polly, Tristan brought treats!” She yelled over her shoulder.
Polly’s bouncing blonde head peeked around the storage room’s door frame. Her face lit like a beacon. “Hi, Tristan. Nice to see you.” She practically bounded toward Tristan and took a takeaway cup of tea, snapping off the plastic lid and taking a sip. “Ooh, scones too? You’re a love.”
Tristan straightened to his full six-foot frame with a gleam in his eyes. “Glad to be of service.”
April reached for a tea, relieved Tristan of the box of scones, and placed them on the counter. “I’ll get some sugar and milk.” When she returned, she saw Tristan and Polly peering into the box of assorted scones, commenting on the different flavors. “Coffee, Tea and Crumpets certainly has a nice selection of pastries, don’t they, Polly?”
Speaking through a bite of blueberry scone, Polly mumbled with delight, “They surely do. And they’re still warm. You’re wonderful, Tristan.”
He beamed, a slight blush in his cheeks.
To April, it seemed that Polly had noticed Tristan’s actions toward her had changed since their dinner. Polly was the most cheerful she’d seen her in weeks.
She joined them at the counter and listened to Polly and Tristan’s chatter while preparing her tea. The door opened to the tinny sound of the bell. She turned to see a tall, well-dressed man enter. He paused inside the door, his eyes taking in the contents of the store.
Polly leaned into April and whispered, “Do you know who that is? He’s even more distinguished than his pictures in the papers.”
April greeted him. “Mr. Heard, it’s nice to see you.”
He closed the distance between them. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” He glanced at the tea and scones, and greeted Tristan and Polly.
“Oh, no sir, not at all.” Polly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Would you like to join us?”
April nodded. “Please do.”
“That would be splendid, but I’ve only a short time before I head for London.” Mr. Heard turned to April. “I wonder if I might have a word with you—in private.” April stammered. “Certainly. We can go into the office. I’ll make you a cup of tea, and we’ll have a scone.”
“Perfect.” He nodded to the others, and Polly handed April a few scones wrapped in a napkin.
April led him through the door leading to the office-cum-kitchen and pulled out a chair for him. She filled the kettle with water and put it on the burner. Preparing a cup, she asked over her shoulder, “What can I do for you, Mr. Heard?”
“Colin, if you would.”
“Colin, it is.” April glanced at him and smiled. “How may I help you? I take it this visit isn’t about a book?”
“No, it pertains to a strange request. Since you purchased Sus … Mrs. Wilkinson’s cottage, I want to ask a large favor. Please don’t think me unethical … this is not for me, but for Mrs. Wilkinson.”
April whirled, nearly upsetting the cup she’d placed on the table. “What do you mean? Mrs. Wilkinson is dead … oh, I remember now. You want to do a memorial for her.”
“Well, yes. I do want to do that also, but this is something else. A delicate matter that I wouldn’t like to leave this room.”
April slid warily onto the chair opposite him. “Yes, I understand.”
The whistle of the kettle broke the tension. Standing to retrieve the kettle, she met his eyes. In them, she recognized something she’d seen in her own reflection from time to time—the pain of loss.
Pouring water into the cup, she asked, “Sugar or milk? Or both?”
“A touch of sugar, please.” She served his tea, he took a sip, cleared his throat and continued, “April, after I met you and Ryan at the castle, I’ve continued to be shocked to hear of Susannah’s passing.”
April heard the yearning in his voice when he’d said her name.
“After she left, Susannah sent a letter to me and to Letice. She didn’t know when she’d return, or if she’d return. Until I met Ryan at the castle, I had no real reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary. I’ve done some investigating and found that prior to her moving to Neville, Susannah had been arrested. After she moved, she was extradited from here to America to stand trial.”
“Arrested?” April nearly spewed her tea. Her thoughts flashed to the crumpled article beneath the desk. It had been about Ryan’s mother.
He nodded and struggled to go on, his focus on his tea. “The detective I hired hasn’t discovered anything else so far. All I’m able to do at this time is to assume she died before it ever went to trial. The strain of it all may have been too much for her.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand why she never contacted me again after she left. I could’ve helped her. I would’ve hired the best legal representation that money could buy. We had grown close, and then she was gone. I never dreamt she was forced to leave.”
He sighed. “Nothing in her letter made me suspect anything of this magnitude. She sent me a pocket cross that she said was dear to her and quoted her favorite verse in John.” His eyes misted. “I am the way, the truth, and the life, no man cometh unto the Father but by me.”
Colin took several sips of tea, and April did too—both thinking in the quiet. The only sound was the plop of water dripping from the sink’s faucet.
“April, until I received her letter, I thought she’d left because she wasn’t ready to pursue a relationship with me and didn’t want to confront me with the truth. I also thought she left to give herself time to think and would eventually be back. She’s been gone nearly two years. Scenarios have been running through my mind all this time.”
April couldn’t keep the compassion from her voice. “Depending on when, or if, she was sick, she may have been trying to spare you from hurt. Who knows, could be she came here to escape the arrest and spend her last days because of an illness.” Retrieving a napkin, she dabbed at her eyes. “But what she didn’t count on was meeting you.”
He grew thoughtful, perhaps weighing the possibilities of what she’d said. “I’m merely speculating. Did you find out exactly when she died?”
“No, I assume the detective will reveal everything when he completes his investigation. He did tell me that there were some issues with the courthouse records, said he’d have to do some digging to find out the details.”
April hesitated before asking, “Have you considered contacting Ryan?”
“Yes, I did consider that … briefly. I dismissed it. I don’t want to bring further hurt to him. Also, since I don’t know how long it’s been since she passed. If it was recently, it would be all the more painful.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.” April realized he hadn’t stated his request. “Colin, what was it you wanted to ask me?”
“You have Susannah’s cottage.” The anguish on his face deepened. “If you permit it, I’d like to stop by and look around.”
“Of course, you may.” Tentatively, she added, “You’re welcome to come for lunch. I’m not a fantastic cook, but I know my way around the kitchen. You’d be my first guest since I’ve moved in.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I don’t want to impose.” He quirked an eyebrow. “I’m already imposing by asking to come over.”
“It’d be an honor to have you for lunch.”
“I accept.”
They finished their tea and scones. Colin stood to leave. He stepped back to let April pass through the door first, and gently grabbed her arm, holding her back.
“If anyone should ask about this conversation and my having lunch at your house, would you mind leaving out our discussion about Susannah’s arrest and anything connected with that? Tell the truth about my wanting to see her cottage. Several people in Neville already know that we were seeing each other socially. They’ll think I’m a sentimental old fossil wanting to relive the past.”
“Certainly,” she
said, laughing. “You’re not old.”
He shook his head and chuckled. “A sentimental fossil then?”
∞∞∞
Once Books-on-the-Green emptied, Polly trapped April before she could get back to her bookkeeping chores. “Spill it. What did that dish want with you? He’s too old for you, but he is very charming, successful, and available. So, what gives?”
“Oh, Polly.” April rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to say anything to anyone.”
“Well, of course.”
“Mr. Heard and Ryan’s mother were getting acquainted before she left Neville rather abruptly. He wasn’t aware that she had died until Ryan and I ran into him at the castle. He seemed genuinely shocked that she’d passed. Anyway, making a long story short, he knows I bought her cottage and wants to come see it—kind of like going down memory lane or some such. It seems he’s a very sentimental man and misses her terribly.”
“Wow … he’s quite a chap.” Polly’s tone was wistful. “And has a heart on top of all that too.”
“Polly, you’re such a teenager.” April broke out in a giggle, abruptly stopped, an amused gleam in her eyes. “I’ve invited him to lunch at the cottage.”
Polly’s eyes widened. “What. You didn’t?”
“Yes. It was heartbreaking the way he talked about her. He’s in a lot of pain. He brightened when I agreed to the visit.”
“You’re not afraid people will get the wrong idea? Imagine if the paparazzi got hold of some shots of him going into your cottage. It’d-be all-over England!” Polly grimaced, then her features softened. “Wait a minute. If that happened, Books-on-the-Green would be on the map, and we could be famous.”
“Polly!” April shouted in horror.
“Oh, calm down. I’m not serious … or am I?” she said sheepishly, wiggled her eyebrows and ducked into the storage room.
April scoffed and returned to her bookkeeping. Polly was back to rare form again. April thought over the conversation with Colin. If she could help ease his pain, she would gladly try, because she understood exactly how it felt to lose someone held dear. She thought of Ryan and hoped, in their time together, she’d been able to lift some of his pain too.
Permelia Cottage Page 17