by Aria Norton
Or lack thereof. Father does not precisely make friends, he is far too self-serving.
The Black Horse was as good a place as any, and perhaps he could get Miss Cathy to give Freddi another chance. It was a long shot considering how angry the woman had been yesterday, but a little bit of sweet talking and perhaps money exchanged could not do any harm. He left his room, throwing a coat on as the spring air was rather chilly in the morning.
Nash found Miss Cathy turning down chairs and wiping down tables, her apron as dirty as it was the previous day. I suppose she does not believe in wearing clean clothes. However, judging by the mess that these men tend to make, it may be pointless keeping clean.
“Miss Cathy,” he called out. “May I have a word with you?”
“Yes, of course, Mr Salisbury. How can I help you?”
Nash had given that name without thinking, not wanting anyone to know that he was Lord Blackmore's son. He was just a simple and humble visitor passing through the town, nothing more and nothing less.
“That young woman that you had yesterday-”
Miss Cathy held her hand up. “Do not mention her, sir. I have only just found out the kind of woman she is. It was good that I kicked her out of me tavern when I did, or I would have had a right time dealing with such an untrustworthy and malicious person.”
Two lines appeared between his brows. "Do we speak of the same woman, Miss Cathy?"
“The pretty young thing with the soulful eyes and pretty hair?”
The woman she described was undoubtedly Freddi, but she was none of the things the woman was claiming her to be.
“Where did you hear about her? I was under the impression that she was a good woman.”
"Do ye fancy her? I saw how ye ran after her, chasing her skirts. If I were ye, mister, I would look elsewhere. Women like her are dangerous."
Freddi? Dangerous? There had to be a mistake. Was someone spreading false rumours about her?
“Miss Cathy, has anyone come to you with information concerning the young woman?”
"Yes. Our Molly received word from one of our customers. It seems the young lass was let go from her prior position when it was found out just what she was up to. Who woulda thought that someone as pretty and innocent as she could have a dark side?" The woman made the sign of the cross over her bosom. "I thought Lord Blackmore was a son of the devil, but that missy could give him a run for his money."
At the mention of his father, his mind went on alert. “Lord Blackmore? Is he that Marquis that resides in that big house a little ways from here?”
"That is the one. Do ye know he tried to buy me tavern from me under false pretences? I almost lost me livelihood, but I has me common sense, sir. I was able to chase him away, but other folk have not been as successful."
This was interesting, it was interesting indeed. Nash would have to come back to the false rumours following Freddi; this was more important. There was always an opportunity to clear her name, but there would not be many opportunities to regain his inheritance. His father was giving him a chance to claim it back, and he needed to do it for him and Freddi. Once they were married, no one would be able to speak negatively about her.
“I imagine that you were furious with him?”
“That, sir, is an understatement. I coulda killed the man with me bare hands, but I will have no man's blood on me hands.”
She made the sign of the cross again, looking quite comical as she did it. I do not think that I can put her down as a suspect. She is the coarse type, but her bark is worse than her bite. If she were looking for revenge, I do not think that a death threat would be her style. Perhaps a dead rat delivered in a box on his doorstep, or horse manure thrown at his window, but not a death threat.
“Who are these other people he has cheated?”
She looked him up and down, her eyes curious. “And what be it to ye? Ye don't belong to this town, why are ye so interested?”
He shrugged. "I suppose that I find it all fascinating. You see, I am writing a book about a man who has lived a dishonest life, and begins to receive death threats from an anonymous source. He hires a dashing detective to find the perpetrator, but I find that I require inspiration to continue it. If I cannot find any in this town, then I shall have to move along to the next town. 'Tis a pity as I have enjoyed your tavern. I would have stayed here for several more days; a lovely establishment such as this would have been a lovely setting in my book. But alas, I fear that I cannot stay any longer."
“Ye were going to put me humble tavern in yer book?”
The idea appeared to please the woman. She has bought my lie hook, line, and sinker.
"Yes. Also, I would have added a lovely character as the madam of the tavern. I am sure my readers would have appreciated such an intelligent woman in my book."
Miss Cathy smoothed her apron, patting her hair with her other hand. 'Tis an easy thing to manipulate people, my father taught me that.
"Mr Salisbury, I insist that ye stay with us, I am sure that many inspirations be lurking in this town. Why, I can tell ye of many stories about Lord Blackmore and the people who would love to see him brought to justice. I know everything about this town, ask anyone. Ye need only ask me what it is that ye wish to know and I'll tell ye."
A slow smile spread across Nash's face. This was precisely what he was looking for, and if he played his cards correctly, he could have the perpetrator caught soon.
“I ask that this stays between us, Miss Cathy. I would rather not have people know my purpose in this town. It is enough that you know and are helping me.”
“Of course, of course, Mr Salisbury. Ye can count on me to keep me gob shut. I'm a trustworthy woman, I never reveal the secrets of others once they have been told to me.”
Nash doubted that, but that was none of his concern. He wanted the woman to sing like a canary and tell him every secret of the town's people. Miss Cathy had to know much as a drunken man could keep no secret, and that was what Nash was counting on.
Nash had spoken to several people by the time the sun was high in the sky. It was becoming more and more evident just how many bridges his father had burned in his lifetime. He had a few suspects, but nothing that jumped out at him.
Not many people have anything good to say about him. I wonder if he knows how much he is hated?
His father was so arrogant that he likely believed that he was a respected man, when, in fact, people hated him. What was it like to be the town's most loathed person? Nash shook his head, seeing that at the rate he was going, he would not catch the perpetrator any time soon. His time was precious, that was why he needed another strategy, or he would get nowhere with these people.
Perhaps if I sympathised with them more, they might tell me something that they would not have readily said.
His next stop was a woman whose husband had lost everything to Lord Blackmore and had passed away soon after. Mrs Summerfield was apparently bitter about what had happened, there was every chance that she was trying to scare the Marquis as revenge. Nash knocked on her door, surprised when he recognised the woman.
“Miss Hudgens?”
The woman smiled sadly. "I go by the name Mrs Summerfield now. No one calls me by that name, young sir." She peered closely at him. "Do I know you?"
She should as she had worked in Blackmore Estate as the laundry maid before his father sent her marching off his property for a minor mistake.
“No, no, you do not. I was directed here to speak to you concerning your husband.”
“Rupert is no more, did they not tell you that?”
“Yes, I am so sorry to hear of your loss, Mrs Summerfield. I am here to ask for advice concerning Lord Blackmore. I wish to do business with him, but I am not certain if I should go ahead. Would you give me a moment of your time to tell me of your husband's experiences with the Marquis?”
She was still looking at him strangely, her head slightly tilted to the side.
“What is your name, young sir?”
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“Mr Salisbury, Lucas Salisbury. I am only passing through this town for a short while to conduct business with Lord Blackmore then I shall return to France.”
"You seem familiar to me, but I am sure it is because you remind me of a young boy I used to know. Well, if it is about Lord Blackmore, then I can give some sound advice. Come in, Mr Salisbury, I was just about to make some tea."
Nash followed behind her, taking a quick look at his surroundings. The woman's house was better off than most he had seen thus far; it was evident that she looked after her home.
"Take a seat, Mr Salisbury, I shall not be long."
“Thank you, you are kind.”
Nash was glad to see that the woman was not in dire straits from his father's actions, but how was she able to survive when it was rumoured that his father had taken everything from her husband? He wanted to search the room he was in to see if he could recognise the handwriting from his father's death threats, but Mrs Summerfield came in at that moment with a tray in her hand.
It suddenly occurred to him that the woman was not wearing the mourning attire for a woman in her position. Her husband had only passed on three months ago, but she was swathed in costly materials from head to foot. If I did not know any better, I would think her a courtesan. She poured the tea, placing a few biscuits on his plate before handing it to him.
“What kind of business do you have with Lord Blackmore, Mr Salisbury?”
“Livestock, Mrs Summerfield. I understand that Lord Blackmore wishes to expand his livestock, and as France has wonderful living conditions for all types of beasts, he understands the value of my animals.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Livestock? I would have thought perhaps wine.”
And I should have said wine! That would have sounded more like his father than livestock.
He shrugged. “I do not know the man well, that is why I wish to hear of him from you. I do not wish to do business with a man who will try to manipulate and destroy all that I have worked so hard to build. I have come all the way from France, Mrs Summerfield, I do not wish to waste my time with corrupt men.”
“I find it odd that you do not carry a French accent when you speak English, Mr Salisbury. The few French people I have come to know are rather proud of their accents. If I did not know any better, I would say that you were an Englishman.”
This woman is suspicious of me, I can see that. She is trying to catch me out in a lie, I had best keep my wits about me.
“My mother was an Englishwoman, and my father French. I spent many summers in England as a child, as well as part of my education. It is only natural that I can speak thus.”
She nodded, taking a sip of her tea before biting into a buttery biscuit. Nash followed suit, believing that he had finally put her suspicions to rest.
“I suppose you are right, Mr Salisbury. Forgive me if I am wrong, but Salisbury is not a French name. Is your father not French?”
This woman is sharper than I would have thought. Such a woman could have sent those death threats to his father. I shall have to tread lightly, I cannot have her distrust me.
“You are right, Mrs Summerfield, it is not a French surname. My grandfather was an Englishman, but he moved to France, married my grandmother, and raised their children in the French way. It is much different to child-rearing in England, I can assure you of that. Have you ever been to France, Mrs Summerfield?”
A change of topic was desperately needed. Nash had not thought so far into his lie, and he had to think on his feet.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. However, my husband was not terribly keen on France, what with the war between us, but I would love to return there someday."
"You must, it is lovely there. Your husband, did he often do business with Lord Blackmore?"
"No, in fact, I did not know that they had business together, or I would have told him to never involve himself with anything to do with Lord Blackmore. The man is as crooked as this pattern on my teacup."
“Indeed? Do tell me more.”
“He swindled my husband out of everything, I tell you. Every single cent. We were left destitute! And then my poor husband had to leave me, his heart could not handle the stress.”
“How terrible, Mrs Summerfield. I am sure that if you could, you would get revenge for your husband.”
She shook her head. "I prefer not to dwell on the past, Mr Salisbury. What is done is done. Will revenge bring my husband back to me? No, it will not, it will only cause greater problems. I am happy as I am now, I do not need further complications in my life."
Nash was disappointed. He had hit another dead end once again, and he was running out of options.
“Thank you for your time, Mrs Summerfield, I must be going.”
“Of course, Lord Salisbury.”
Nash's head jerked. “What did you call me?”
The woman smiled. “Lord Salisbury, did you think that I would not recognise you? The last time that I saw you, you were but a child, but now you are all grown up. You favour your father, but I also see your mother in you.”
This was not good, it was not good indeed. If she could recognise him, who was to say that another person could not do the same?
“Why did you not say something? How do you know it is me?”
"I heard the story about the horse accident, how you travelled to France with your grandparents. However, it was your eyes that struck me as familiar. I recalled how you had the most thickly lashed eyes I have ever seen on a boy, and the loveliest shades of gold and green in your eyes. I put all of these clues together, but it was you that gave me the greatest clue of all."
“And what was that?”
It hurt his male pride to have her say that he was the one to give himself away. It seemed that his sleuthing prowess was not what he had imagined it to be.
“You called me by my maiden name. No one has called me that in years, thus I knew that you had to be someone that I know. Everyone calls me Mrs Summerfield, and no stranger would be aware of my maiden name. So you see, it was not difficult to realise who you are.”
“I appear to have shot myself in the foot, Lily.”
She laughed. “Goodness! Lily- I have not heard anyone call me that name in the longest while. Lily Hudgens, I have nearly forgotten about her. You tend to lose yourself when you are married, Lord Salisbury. People know you by your husband; a woman does not have her own identity.”
Nash decided that he might as well go along with the conversation as it came rather than keeping up a pretence that had failed before it had even begun.
“I had wondered what had happened to you once you left Blackmore. I did not hear of you again.”
"I lived in London for a while, that is where I met my Rupert. He took me out of poverty and made me a woman of leisure. Do you know something, Lord Salisbury? Once you are a woman alone, men descend upon you like vultures. You have to become wise, or you will not survive."
She is admitting to being a courtesan, but strangely I do not mind. How can I when she can only do what she can to survive? 'Tis not her fault that she has fallen prey to men.
“May I ask that you do not speak of our encounter to anyone? I would rather the town not know who I am.”
“You have my word, Lord Salisbury. You were always kind to me, I have no reason to share your secret. Neither is it my business to know your reasons for doing so, but may I ask why you are asking such questions? Is your father in danger?”