A Woman’s Innocence

by Gayle Callen

  By twos and threes came clusters of people Julia didn’t know, and she assumed they were Misterton villagers. Was Sam’s family here? But Lucy made no move to join any of the strangers, and Henry had not yet made his appearance.

  A cool breeze made Julia shiver. She felt like eyes were watching her from out in the darkness. Their attacker was probably there, waiting for his chance to get the two of them alone. But in this crowd, she felt strangely invincible.

  The musicians had finished warming up and now struck up a lively country tune. Partners moved in and out of opposite lines and when Julia saw Lucy and Florence dancing together, she sighed with relief. Sam convinced Frances to dance, and she watched them in delight. After several minutes of watching him move, tall and graceful, bending so gentlemanly to talk to Frances, Julia wondered what it would feel like to dance with him, to have those arms around her out in public, instead of only locked in the secret passion they shared. He was a wonderful dancer—how had she thought he’d be otherwise? A forlorn feeling of isolation swept over her.

  Would this be her last dance, her last freedom? They’d found little evidence to convince a jury that Lewis was guilty. But even if she were free, she could never proclaim her love for Sam to the world. It was something only they could share, and only for a brief time. It would have to be enough.

  Slowly she became aware of movement behind her, then soft breathing. She quickly looked over her shoulder, but nobody was there. There was a hissing of his breath, and she thought their assailant must be laughing that horrible silent laugh of his. The music seemed to fade into the distance, the voices of the people nearby grew muffled. She could only focus on listening for the man who’d helped her brother put her in jail. Sam seemed so far away, his face smiling down at Frances. The darkness behind the trees was too close. All Lewis’s henchman would have to do was drag her ten yards.

  And she’d vanish.

  Julia stood still, a hot, evil presence behind her. His breathing got louder and louder, and she remembered that he’d watched her with a lover. Had he seen her with Sam, right here in the house?

  But no, she was panicking. She and Sam were always careful to be alone. She wanted to call to Sam, but the next dance started, and he remained with Frances.

  And she was being a fool. There was no one behind her, and he wouldn’t dare draw attention to himself.

  Her gaze found the food table, where a line was forming as people served themselves from the assortment of pasties and custards and tarts. She was about to take a step in that direction, when suddenly Lucy appeared before her.

  “Good evening, Walter,” Lucy said, flashing that Sherryngton smile.

  Lucy put her hand through Julia’s arm, and Julia stiffened, but certainly did not protest being led away.

  “You seemed so alone standing near the darkness of the trees,” Lucy said.

  “I’ve never been to a country dance before. I was enjoying watching everyone.”

  Lucy stumbled over something in the grass, and as Julia helped right her, she could swear Lucy leaned her head on her shoulder.

  Oh God, Julia had been rescued from her fears only to be immersed in another kind of danger, one of discovery. She prayed that Lucy took her stiffness as a sign of shyness.

  The maid looked up into her face and laughed. “I am such a clumsy thing. Thank you for your help.”

  Julia just nodded awkwardly.

  Lucy glanced away and brightened. “And look, some of my family just arrived.”

  Julia looked where she pointed, and saw Henry with a young woman and several children scattered between them. “Henry the gardener is your brother.”

  “You have a good memory,” Lucy said.

  “I write everythin’ down.”

  “The woman behind them is my mother.” Lucy waved cheerfully. “Let me introduce you.”

  “But surely your family is hungry,” Julia said, trying to pull away from the girl’s firm grip. “You can introduce me later.”

  “No, no, Mama was very interested that two constables were looking into details about Miss Julia. She’s quite certain you will succeed in proving our mistress innocent.”

  Julia glanced at her in surprise, but didn’t respond. She was being dragged closer and closer to the Sherryngton group, and she reluctantly admitted to herself that she was curious to meet Sam’s family again after all these years.

  When her gaze met Henry’s, he hid his concern well, though he did frown at his youngest sister. That at least made Lucy release her grip on Julia’s arm. Lucy performed the introductions. There was Henry’s shy wife Sarah and their children, then the twins Abigail and Alice—who Julia remembered playing dolls with—and their husbands, tenant farmers on the estate. Both women were very pregnant. And last was Mrs. Sherryngton herself, smaller than Julia remembered, her red hair faded into white, and her alert eyes examining Julia’s face. Sam had her golden brown eyes.

  “Good evening, Constable,” Mrs. Sherryngton said. “You seem very familiar to me. Were you born nearby?”

  Julia tried to speak in her gruff voice, though her heart threatened to jump into her throat. “No, ma’am. I’m from Leeds.”

  Mrs. Sherryngton hesitated, and Julia tried not to flinch as the older woman shook her head.

  “Maybe back a generation or two,” Mrs. Sherryngton said. “I have a good eye for faces. It will come to me.”

  Now there would be another person trying to unmask them. She would have to make sure Sam came nowhere near his mother.

  Lucy suddenly tugged on her hand. “The constable is going to dance with me, Mama. We’ll be back.”

  “Did the young man even have time to ask you?” her mother gently scolded.

  Lucy’s eyes were pleading, and at that point Julia would have done anything to get away from Mrs. Sherryngton. Julia nodded and found herself pulled onto the grass dance floor. This was the first time anyone but Sam had touched her hands, and she could only pray that travel and spending time outdoors had roughened her skin and nails enough. And then she remembered that she only knew the lady’s part.

  “I—I can’t dance,” she finally admitted when Lucy placed her in position.

  “Then just follow me and I’ll teach you!”

  Julia spent the next fifteen minutes feeling like the most awkward person ever to step foot on a dance floor. Lucy dragged her about, laughing even when Julia stomped on her toes. Julia liked Lucy immensely, and could only hope that when the girl learned the truth, they could still have a friendship between them.

  Unless, of course, Julia was returned to jail.

  Her morbid thoughts didn’t last long during such a festive evening. When Lucy finally let her retreat from the dance floor, Julia found Sam talking to a stranger. Sam motioned her nearer, and she experienced actual reluctance to leave Lucy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such fun.

  She put on a businesslike expression for Sam, who nodded to her.

  “Constable Fitzjames, this is John Keane, the parish vicar here in Misterton.”

  Julia bowed. “Good evenin’, Mr. Keane.”

  The vicar was a man in his thirties, obviously recent to the post, since Julia did not remember him. He had very kind eyes, and a calm manner which would put any parishioner at ease.

  “It is good to meet you, Constable Fitzjames,” Mr. Keane said. “Such a terrible time we live in, when a young woman of a fine family can be accused of such crimes.”

  Julia glanced at Sam, who said, “I’ve been explainin’ our purpose here to Mr. Keane.” He turned back to the vicar. “Ye knew the family?”

  “I have only been living here in Misterton for the last eight years, long after Miss Reed and her brother had left for the East. But the villagers speak highly of the family, and especially of young Miss Reed. I did have the good fortune to meet the general last autumn.”

  Julia grew tense, and wished she had her notebook with which to busy her shaking hands.

  Sam gave him an assessing look.
“How did ye find the general?”

  “Quite well. A busy man, without much time to spare, but he missed his home and wished to commemorate his return. He came to me for help.”

  “And how could ye help?” Sam asked.

  The vicar smiled. “I am familiar with commissioning the creation of statues.”

  Slowly, Sam said, “He wanted to have a statue made?”

  Julia stopped breathing. Since when did her brother bypass his staff to worry about something so trivial as decorating the estate?

  “In fact,” Mr. Keane said, “he originally wanted to commission a statue for the church grounds, a donation in thanksgiving for his safe return to England. But as we spoke, he liked the idea so much he decided to purchase a second one for Hopewell Manor.”

  “And it’s here now?” Sam asked.

  “I assume so. I’ve had the one at the church for months now.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Keane, you’ve been so helpful on the family’s character.”

  As Sam and Julia were escaping, the vicar called, “Anytime, sir. Do pay a visit to the rectory when you’re in the village.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that, sir.”

  Chapter 20

  Sam tried not to show his excitement as he leisurely led Julia to the edge of the trees, a more secluded spot where lanterns swayed overhead and a breeze rippled ribbon streamers. One swayed against her cheek and he almost pushed it aside himself, wanting any excuse to touch her. Luckily, she impatiently swiped the streamer away.

  Softly, she asked, “Was that as significant as I thought it was?”

  “It might be,” he said, casually looking out over the merry crowd. “I can’t believe Henry didn’t tell me about a new statue.”

  “We never asked. Do ye think Lewis intended it for—”

  He saw that she couldn’t even say the words, that she was afraid to hope again after everything seemed so bleak.

  “Do I think he had a different purpose than ornamentation for that statue? That’s exactly what I’m thinkin’.”

  “Ye said he had to hide the money somewhere.”

  “And I couldn’t imagine where on the grounds we could even begin to look. And here it fell right into our laps.”

  “I’m so excited,” she whispered.

  Lantern light was caught in her blue eyes, dazzling him. Desire surged through his veins, and he was hard in an instant.

  He tried to keep his gaze on her eyes, but her moist mouth was almost his undoing. “The way your face looks right now, you make me remember other moments, other touches.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “Oh, Sam.”

  If anyone saw the way he was just staring at his apprentice constable…He casually looked about, but no one was watching them.

  Sam cleared his throat. “We have to see that statue. I’ll go ask Henry about it.”

  “Oh, but you can’t. He’s with your mother.”

  He couldn’t help himself—his gaze shot to the crowd, and almost immediately he saw his family sitting at their own table, laughing at the antics of the children out among the dancers. The twins had even come, looking so mature and happy. And then he saw his mother for the first time in fourteen years. She seemed…frail, her hair a color he didn’t recognize on her. Was that because of him? Did she never stop worrying, as Henry said?

  There was a lump in his throat no amount of swallowing could destroy. It had been difficult to stay away from his family, but not half as bad as seeing them and knowing he could not immerse himself in their hugs and kisses.

  “I was able to meet your mother,” Julia continued in a low voice. “She’s as kind—and direct as I remember.”

  “Direct?”

  “She said I looked familiar and asked if I grew up here.”

  He whistled softly. “If she recognized your features after all these years, she’ll spot me in a minute. We’ll leave the dance. Will you mind?”

  “Mind?” She looked incredulous. “When there’s a statue to search for?”

  He wanted to grin down into her face, he wanted to hug her, he wanted—everything with her. He would have to settle for seeing her safe.

  “But Constable,” she continued, lowering her voice even more, “I’m certain I felt someone watching me from the trees.”

  Frowning, he looked over his shoulder into the darkness. “The grooms have been taking turns keeping an eye on things, but we won’t take any chances. We need a distraction. I’ll be right back.”

  Moving into the crowd, he caught his brother’s eye and gestured him nearer. Henry carefully positioned himself so that Sam was standing with his back to their family.

  “What can I do for you, Constable?” Henry asked softly.

  “I need your help. Can you gather everyone and encourage a chase game in the garden? Pretend you hid a prize they all need to find.”

  “But what will happen when no one finds anything?”

  “Say you hid it too well, and you find it.”

  Henry nodded. “Can you tell me why we’re doing this?”

  “Later. But thank you for your help.”

  By the time Sam made his way back to Julia, Henry was already calling all the young people together and explaining the game to them. Julia listened with interest, smiling up at Sam.

  “How clever,” she murmured.

  “Thank you.” Grinning, he took a lantern, and then he and Julia slipped into the shadows.

  The Hopewell Manor garden always felt like his own. His father had devoted each workday to it; he and his siblings had had the run of it. He knew every false crumbling castle, every marble bench, and every grotto. One by one, he ticked off each statue in his memory, carefully searching every stone path. Giggling servants and children occasionally raced past them, but the gardens were large enough for everyone to spread out.

  And then they found it. There was a solitary new statue, deep in the heart of the garden, far from any view from the house or outbuildings. It stood in the middle of a rose garden, as if it needed thorns for protection.

  “Will it matter if anyone sees us?” Julia asked.

  “We’re just playin’ the game, aren’t we? And we got here first.”

  Her excited face was illuminated by the lantern flame as he held it up high until they were both able to see the new addition to the garden.

  It was a statue of a nearly naked woman.

  “My brother never struck me as the romantic type,” she said doubtfully.

  “I don’t think there’s anything romantic about his choice of the Roman goddess Venus.”

  “Venus? But surely beauty is romantic.”

  “She was the goddess of gardeners, and was believed to bring a bountiful crop.”

  “So you mean Lewis was only being practical?”

  “Of course. He thought Venus would be innocuous in a garden.”

  “She’s not wearing much, is she?” she added dryly. “I’m sure he thought she’d be pleasant to look at, too.”

  He grinned. “Her clothing is obviously draped to suggest as well as conceal. Let’s just hope she’s concealing more than nudity. Hold the lantern near the base for me. Perhaps there’s a hidden compartment.”

  But if there was one, he couldn’t find it. The base seemed as solid as the statue, though he tested every edge, dug into the earth around its base, and ran his hands over the statue itself. He tapped everywhere, and although the base sounded as if it might be hollow, there seemed to be no way to find out.

  They heard a distant laugh before the bushes parted and Florence and Harold came crashing into the clearing. The two servants pulled up short, then released identical sighs of relief when they saw whom they’d interrupted.

  Sam grinned. “Ye’d better be more careful. Mrs. Cooper wouldn’t take kindly to the two of ye together.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Harold called, grabbing Florence’s hand and pulling her into the darkness.

  Sam shook his head, and they both turned back to the statue.

 
“We could just pry it open,” Julia suggested.

  They stood side by side and stared at the mysteries of Venus. The lantern flame was sputtering now, the oil almost gone.

  “And what would that prove? Even if there’s money inside, we haven’t connected it to Lewis. Damn, but I have to give this more thought.”

  She yawned, then apologized. “Perhaps we need to talk to Henry? Maybe someone else knows about the statue.”

  As Sam thought about their assailant, his fists tightened in anger. “Lewis’s henchman might yet be the key. I could capture him and persuade him to talk.” But not in front of Julia, he vowed to himself. She didn’t need to see the lengths he would go to save her life.

  “He won’t help us.”

  Sam didn’t answer. He only blew out the flame, and in the darkness he put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Allow me to be your guide,” he murmured into her ear, tugging on the lobe gently with his teeth. God, she smelled so good.

  Over the next half hour, everyone gathered back near the dance floor. Henry admitted he must have hid the prize too well, since he knew the gardens better than anyone else. Sam insisted on accompanying him to “verify” the truth, and everyone laughed. But in reality, Sam didn’t even want Henry alone on the grounds at night. They returned with a little pouch of coins, everything they had between them. Henry surprised everyone by throwing all the coins high in the air, and there was a mad scrabble as all the children dropped down into the grass to search.

  Sam watched, smiling, until he felt a tug on his arm.

  “Constable Seabrook?”

  His sister Lucy stood looking up at him, her eyes wide with worry. He sobered and stared down at her.

  “Yes, Lucy?”

  “I can’t find my sister Frances anywhere,” she said, looking over her shoulder in their mother’s direction.

  Sam’s every sense went on alert, and he scanned the crowd. “When did ye notice this?”

  “Just now. And she’s not in the manor. I didn’t want to worry anyone, because I’m probably just imagining things, but you warned about a thief—”