by Karen Lynne
Patience took a step closer, only a breath apart.
“Walter, please. Let me tell you my side of the story. Then perhaps you’ll understand that I never meant you any harm.”
Walter’s rich eyes flickered from her eyes to her nose, her hair to her lips. His body relaxed, and his eyes softened as he looked at her.
Patience pulled in a deep breath. “Lord Berkshire and I—”
“Oh, Mr. Longman, there you are!” a voice called from behind.
Patience clamped her mouth shut, stepping away to a respectable distance. Mr. Scott, owner of the general mercantile, approached.
“I haven’t seen you since the funeral. Your brother ordered a piece of jewelry for your mother but was unable to pick it up before his—” The man stopped mid-sentence, probably only now realizing the awkwardness of the situation. “Would you care to look at it?” Hope danced in his eyes.
Walter turned back to Patience and gave a quick bow.
She curtsied, lowering her voice. “Meet me at the factory when you have finished here. You know the place.” She nodded.
Walter hesitated before nodding.
Patience stood alone, resting her back against the brick building, watching as the pair rounded the corner, disappearing from sight. She allowed herself to feel hope that she might earn Walter’s forgiveness. He needed to settle his affairs without her watchful eye.
Chapter 6
The small emerald earrings sparkled as Mr. Scott held them up for Walter to examine. Even to Walter’s undiscerning eye, he could tell they were fake.
Mr. Scott’s eyes glimmered as he watched for Walter’s reaction. He wasn’t sure if this man was being deceitful or if he truly did not have a clue as to their authenticity. The fact that his brother had ordered them at all irritated Walter. Mr. Scott had to know Daniel’s spending was out of control.
“Exquisite, aren’t they?”
Walter took them, weighing the lightness in his palm. He paused, wondering how to best handle the situation. Who knew how much debt Daniel had amassed with this man? Walter needed to keep Mr. Scott happy, at least for now.
He looked up at Mr. Scott. “How much?” No matter the cost, Walter knew he couldn’t in good conscience spend any more money.
Mr. Scott grinned. “Because of the unfortunate death in your family, I’ll offer half price. Three pounds.”
Walter nearly dropped the earrings in his haste to extract himself from the small confines of the shop, but knew he needed to leave gently. His family’s financial situation gripped his chest like a vise, and he wasn’t sure if all his accounts with this man had been settled.
“I’m sorry.” He handed them back to the merchant. “Not at this time.”
He would not give the dreadful things to his mother even if he had a mind to, and he could not believe Daniel would have either.
Mr. Scott’s face fell. “Well, perhaps these can tempt you…” He ducked behind his counter and pulled out a pair of pearl earrings. They were simple but elegant. Mr. Scott placed them in Walter’s hand. Walter tried to mask his irritation as he reluctantly took the earrings.
“A gift,” he said with a smile. “Give your family my condolences.”
Walter curled his fingers over the earrings. “I can’t take these.” He extracted a few coins from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Scott.
The jeweler hesitated for a brief moment. “You are too kind,” he said.
Walter placed the earrings on the counter, but the man shoved the earrings back at him. He didn’t have the strength to protest any further. He forced them in his pocket before walking out of the shop, more wound up than when he’d left his home that morning. This day was not going as he’d expected.
He was tempted to leave Patience where she was and go about his business without her interference, but couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone when she expected him. He shook his head, not believing that he still hadn’t learned how to put Patience behind him.
He walked to the edge of his property where an old abandoned candle factory sat alone and untouched by time. The smell of tallow assailed him as he stepped into a small room. A thin, waxy film coated the bare floors. This was where he and Patience would meet in secret when their relationship turned from friendship to love. Before he asked for her hand in marriage. He pressed forward, determined to have this meeting done with. He didn’t need to relive these memories.
He walked further into the dim factory, lit only by the light spilling from its windows. Patience stepped out of the shadows, looking as if a beautiful ghost in a cream-colored dress. Walter stood still as he caught sight of her, afraid he would cave into an irrational mess if he drew nearer.
Patience fiddled with the fabric of her skirt. “It was all for you, you know,” she said.
Walter’s heart twisted, thumping faster at the sound of her voice, but remained stoic, not saying a word.
She continued. “Mama was pushing me at any gentleman with a title and a decent income attached to his name. I didn’t want to court any of them. I was still yours.”
Walter’s heart beat loudly in his ears. Still, he said nothing.
“When I saw Juliana Gibbon interact with Lord Berkshire, I knew without a doubt, they were in love with each other, even if they hadn’t realized it. As you probably know, he had just acquired his father’s title and a sizable fortune at the passing of his father. The mothers clamored for introductions,” she stepped closer. The red highlights of her hair masked in the dark shadows. “Juliana knew I didn’t want to court anyone. She knew there was only one man who held my affections. So she devised a plan.” Patience shrugged her shoulders as if what she had done had been a mere game to pass the time.
“She asked you to court Lord Berkshire,” Walter said, guessing at the story.
She nodded as her head bent. The vise constricting his heart since he found her in the arms of Lord Berkshire loosened.
He stepped closer, unable to resist her pull. He checked himself in time, guarding his feelings. Too many things to take into consideration.
“Society takes courtship seriously, Patience. How do you think it looked to me?”
“By pretending to court, it saved Lord Berkshire from the overzealous matrons, and I had a respite from my mother. It was all for you, Walter. You must believe that,” her eyes pleaded.
His hands tightened into fists, his mind warring with his heart. “Why did the papers report it as a scandal?”
Patience huffed out a breath. “Once Lord Berkshire told my parents he had no intention of making me an offer, they pulled me out of London and brought me back home. Of course, it looked suspicious. But I swear to you—nothing occurred between Lord Berkshire and I. Lord Berkshire and Juliana are to be wed in a week’s time. They have their happy ending. Why can’t we have ours?” her voice softened.
Walter slipped his hand through his hair, trying to make sense of what she said. They stood in silence for a moment before he took the remaining steps towards her. “Do you still love me?”
“You know I do.” Patience’s eyes locked with his.
His insides danced at their proximity.
A stray lock of hair fell from her bun. He wanted to tuck it behind her ear. He wanted to touch her face. He wanted to kiss her forehead…
She breathed, “I’ve vowed to never marry another.”
He fought not to lose control.
Her words pierced through his rough exterior, softening his heart. He reached for her, tucking her hand lightly into his. He yearned to fold her into his arms, hold her tight against his chest and promise to never let her go.
“Have you your mother’s blessing?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes grew distant. “Mama does not understand me. Papa does a little, but he’s too afraid to stand up for me.” She lowered her gaze. “I do not have their blessing.”
Walter lowered his hand, dropping hers. “Then what are we doing here, Patience?” his voice strained. “Why prolong the pain when this
cannot be?”
“Because I will not give up.” She lifted her chin, showing him signs of her earlier self. “There has to be a reason besides money that she won’t approve of the match. I know there is.” A small smile lit her face. “It’s a mystery only we can solve.”
Walter fought a smile. “Come now. We are no longer children.”
“Don’t you remember the fun we had?” Her smile, warm and genuine. “Romping around the village of Wallingford, solving the dullest mysteries we could find?”
He did. They had gotten into some mischief with their sleuthing games. It was the primary reason he pursued a career as a barrister.
“Mama’s aversion to you is no different,” Patience continued. “But we will crack the case. What do you say?”
Walter looked into her hopeful, optimistic face. He almost agreed, but remembered that his other responsibilities took priority. The Vanderbilt case. His brother’s accident. What to do about the debts.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I must investigate my brother’s accident first and foremost. And then… I must return to London.”
Patience’s face fell. “When?”
“As soon as possible. Within a week, I hope.”
Patience’s forehead creased. “You mean, you aren’t staying in Wallingford?”
“I can’t.” Walter took a step back, distancing himself from her. This would not end well. Her mother would never agree. He still worked, something Mrs. Hawthorn didn’t understand.
Gentlemen didn’t work.
No matter how they felt for each other… he had responsibilities to care for his family. “I have to take on a case in London. It is career-defining. And…” He hesitated, then plowed on. “My brother left my family heavily indebted. I have no choice but to return to London and make my way as a barrister. Hopefully, I’ll pay off some debts in a few years if the bank will agree. My brother mortgaged the estate and I don’t want to lose my mother’s home.”
Patience’s eyes searched his. He looked away for fear she’d see how hard this was for him. Giving in to his heart would only create more problems.
“Take me with you.” Her quiet pleading forced his eyes back to hers.
He shook his head. “I can’t. Not without your parents’ blessing.”
“Do you still love me?”
His eyes found Patience’s. They were wide, uncertain. Something inside broke, and he loathed himself for causing her pain.
“I do,” he whispered. “I never stopped.”
Color returned to her cheeks as she reached for him. He drew back, fighting everything within him that wanted to touch and hold her.
She dropped her hands, bunching them at her sides.
“I will help you find out about your brother’s accident,” she said firmly. “And then, before you return to London, we will approach my parents.”
Walter shook his head. “Patience, leave my brother’s accident to me. I will get to the bottom of it soon enough. As for your parents…” He paused, shaking his head. “Believe me, I want to ask them again for your hand. But I know they’ll give the same answer they did last time, and I cannot bear to go through the humiliation again.” He took a deep breath. “Now is not the right time.”
Patience’s gaze fell to the wax-smeared ground. “I understand,” she said quietly.
Walter hesitated, then carefully extended his hand, lifting her chin until she looked at him again. “I haven’t given up on us,” he breathed. “But it’ll have to wait. At least, until I’ve won the case in London. By then, I’ll be making the money to give you a home. I’ll be more desirable to your family.”
He moved his hand to her cheek, slipping his fingers along her jaw, stroking her smooth skin with his thumb. “Don’t give up on me. I will come for you.”
Patience nodded, though still looking disappointed. Walter hated disappointing her.
He released her, stepping away. “Stay out of trouble until I bring you word.” A smile cracked his lips.
Her eyes filled with hope, making it difficult to leave. Taking a breath, he turned and left the building, leaving things partially mended between them. He hoped it was enough, though something inside him knew their relationship wouldn’t mend so easily.
Chapter 7
The day was half-gone, but it had been worth it to see Patience again. His step felt lighter as he weaved his way through the streets, heading straight for the blacksmith. Though his brother had only been in the ground for a full day, speaking with Patience had lifted his spirits. His heart was heavy, but knowing the woman he loved knew his struggles, lifted it slightly. There was no way he could tell his mother about the debts. He had no idea how she would take the news, believing Daniel had been a good provider. And though he knew Patience couldn’t be of use to him, the thought of her constancy buoyed him. He’d been wrong to distrust her.
With the funeral still fresh in his mind, he determined to find answers. His gut told him his brother’s death was not an accident.
Mr. Tate greeted him with a toothless grin as he entered the blacksmith’s shop. The only blacksmith in Wallingford, he’d known Mr. Tate since he was a boy.
“Ah, there you are! Was wondering when you’d be coming around.”
Walter nodded. “The carriage?”
Mr. Tate turned to move into the back of the shop. “Right this way, sir.”
Walter followed the blacksmith as he led him to the back. Lifting a lantern, Walter spotted the mangled metal that had once been a carriage. His stomach lurched at the gruesome sight, one that sent his imagination turning at how his brother could have died. Suffocation, broken bones, cracked skull, punctured lungs… the list of possibilities ran through his mind.
Mr. Tate handed him the lantern as he approached the destroyed carriage. Kneeling, Walter examined the bent and twisted metal. “How could this have happened?” he asked quietly.
Mr. Tate shuffled his feet beside him. “There most certainly could have been a weakness in the metal the manufacturer used. Perhaps it just snapped after the wheel came off.”
Walter scowled at the mess in front of him. “But where? What could have broken that would have thrown the carriage completely off the road?”
Mr. Tate hunched next to Walter. “Let’s see… well, the horses escaped, yes? That should give us some clues.”
Walter nodded. “Perhaps they spooked and broke free—something they’d only be able to do if the carriage shaft snapped.” He lifted his eyes to the carriage’s front. The metal that would loop through the horse’s tethers had indeed broken off.
Mr. Tate ran his fingers along the thin metal, shaking his head. “No, no… they broke away after the carriage lost control. See here—” The blacksmith tapped where the metal had broken. “It’s twisted, bent. Whatever happened, the force was enough that the metal twisted right off, freeing the horses.”
Walter’s brow knit. “But they are securely tied. What could have possibly caused the carriage to swerve one way and the horses the other?”
Mr. Tate lowered his eyes, studying the mess, scratching the back of his neck. “The way this metal broke… I’d almost say the carriage collapsed downward…” He imitated with his hands, leveling them beside each other, then violently dropping one hand. “And caused the metal bars to snap up, giving them an enormous amount of stress. Any carriage of this make would have the front snapped off if this was the case.”
Walter contemplated what Mr. Tate was saying. “Then… if a wheel dislodged, would that have dropped the carriage enough to break off the front?”
Mr. Tate ducked his head to examine the underside of the carriage. “If one wheel fell off, that certainly could have done it. But the wheel didn’t simply fall off—the metal it was attached to is gone, too.” He pointed. “Ah-ha. The axle snapped in half.”
A chill ran through Walter. “Snapped in half? What would that have done to the carriage?”
“The front wheels’ axle is what snapped, so it would ha
ve dropped dramatically forward.” Mr. Tate once again imitated with his hand, slanting one at an angle. “It would have certainly broken the carriage shaft, freeing the horses. But now the wheels are not able to function properly, and depending on how fast your brother was going, it most certainly would have pitched him forward or to the side.”
Walter stood, straightening. “And then what?”
Mr. Tate shrugged. “It seems to have rolled onto its side. Mr. Longman was found in a ravine with the carriage. It must have pitched to the side, losing one of the wheels, and tumbled down the hill with him on it. The force of the fall could have certainly crushed him.”
Walter felt sick to his stomach. “The manufacturer is at fault then?” he asked, his anger heightening.
Mr. Tate took a moment to examine the fractured axle. “No,” he said slowly. “No… I… That’s strange.”
Walter peered at the axle, trying to discern it all. “What is it?”
Mr. Tate squinted. “The axle didn’t snap from poorly made metal,” he said. “I’ve seen fractured metal before. No… this was deliberately cut. Right here.” He pointed. “But not all the way, of course. This tiny bit here—” he pointed to the bottom bit of the metal rod. “That broke from all the pressure.” Mr. Tate’s eyes moved slowly to Walter. His tone somber. “Mr. Longman. It appears someone meant harm to your brother.”
Mr. Tate’s words pounded into Walter. He stared at the severed axle, trying to piece it all together. “You’re sure? I don’t know anyone who would do such a thing.”
“You can see the marks right here, sir,” Mr. Tate pointed.
Walter’s anger deepened as he spotted the jagged marks of a file that had been dragged through the metal, just enough to weaken it.
He moved back out from the wreckage and stood, his head spinning. “Thank you, Mr. Tate,” he said hoarsely as he walked out of the shop, the world around him crumbling into a cold abyss.