“Good afternoon, Mr. Woodland.” Miss Talbot’s smile widened. “What a pleasure to see you in town.”
He stopped in front of her and bowed slightly. “It’s certainly a pleasure to see you.” He took a quick glance around them. “Is your sister not here with you?”
“Not this time. She was feeling under the weather and so stayed inside.”
“Under the weather, you say? Has she gotten terribly ill?”
“Nothing to worry about, Mr. Woodland. She just has the sniffles, and since it rained earlier, she didn’t want to take a chance in getting worse.”
“Oh, I see.” He nodded. “Well, give her my best, and I pray you won’t get sick, either.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Woodland. I really appreciate that.” Hesitantly, she laid her hand on his arm. “My sister and I need to have you over for dinner again. I have missed our visits.”
“As have I.” He smiled. “But let’s wait until we know Mrs. Smythe is completely well.”
“Oh yes, of course.” Miss Talbot snapped her hand away and entwined her fingers against her middle in some sort of nervous gesture. “Good day, Mr. Woodland.”
“And a good day to you.”
He walked away, but could feel her staring after him. Daring not to turn around to see if she still watched—for fear she’d get the wrong impression—he continued moving up the road. If he kept going straight, he’d be on the beach very soon.
Thinking about Miss Talbot, he couldn’t stop the chuckle bubbling up from his throat as a mischievous idea took root in his mind. Since he played his cousin, perhaps he should give her the impression that Frederick was interested in her. Then when his cousin stepped back into his role as clergyman, Miss Talbot would not be shy around him, and maybe the two of them could finally fall in love.
A loud laugh escaped him. Hard to believe that he’d gone from helping his friends solve mysteries, to becoming a matchmaker.
The closer he came to the ocean, the stronger the wind blew. The tide didn’t seem to come as close to shore as it had when Mr. Jacobs and his daughter were here, thankfully. But Nic knew that finding any kind of clues as to why someone would dig a hole was probably buried deep in the sand and beyond reach. He was certain this was a mystery they would never discover by themselves. Indeed, if Mr. Jacobs and his daughter had seen anything, that would be the only assistance Nic and Frederick would get.
Even he had tried to recall that morning and if he’d seen anyone near the shore besides the blacksmith and his daughter. The only other two people out here were Tabitha and Sally. They, of course, looked as surprised to see Mr. Jacobs as Nic had been.
He reached the spot where he’d been standing when he first saw the blacksmith. Carefully, as not to slide, Nic made his way down the small hillside as he moved closer to where the hole had been that practically swallowed the little girl.
Another chill swept over him, but it had nothing to do with the breeze coming off the ocean. In fact, he felt as if someone was watching him. Slowly, he glanced around the beach but couldn’t see anyone.
Shrugging off the feeling, he tried to convince himself there was no reason for him to think this way. If anyone saw him right now, they would just believe he was out enjoying a nice walk, which was what a clergyman would do.
Now…where was that spot where the hole had been. Even if someone was watching him, he didn’t want to look conspicuous that he was actually searching for something. So taking slower steps, he acted as if he was gazing across the water as he walked, and at the same time, scanned the area closely for anything that might have been left by the diggers.
So far, nothing looked out of place. Then again, he really didn’t think he’d find anything. Clouds had covered the sun, even though they would move shortly, so it wasn’t that easy to spot things lying around. Perhaps this was a wasted trip. After all, the wind and rain from earlier today, would have erased all signs of—
His foot caught on something and made him stumble. From the feel of it against his boot, he thought he had bumped against the root of a tree or very large bush since it was so heavy.
He stopped and turned to see what had made him trip. From out of the sand grew a strange kind of pale root. Yet, it didn’t really look like a root.
Crouching closer, he narrowed his eyes, trying to see it more clearly. Just then, the clouds moved away from the sun and shone on the object. Realization struck him. Gasping, he jumped back and cursed.
There was a human hand coming from under the sand, and by the pale color of the skin and fingernails, Nic was sure the limb was attached to a dead body.
Chapter Ten
“Oh, for the nerve of that man!” Sally exclaimed, shifting the basket in her arms as she and Tabitha walked toward the small, red-bricked house with white shutters. “Honestly, Miss Tabitha, I don’t think that man will ever change. He’ll always be so full of himself that there won’t be any room for others inside his heart.”
Tabitha really shouldn’t have told Sally about Nic, but she desperately needed someone to talk with about it. She needed someone to listen to her frustrations. Of course, she swore Sally to secrecy. “He’d tried to show me that he’d changed, and at times, I thought he had.” She shook her head. “But you are correct, Sally. Men like Lord Hawthorne never alter their lives no matter what.”
Several hours ago, this was the very idea pushing Tabitha into her aunt’s kitchen as she took out her frustrations on making pastries. She had needed something to slam against the cooking board, and since it was out of the question to use Nic’s head, she chose to use dough instead.
It bothered her that even as much as she knew what kind of a man Lord Hawthorne was, she still kept him in her mind. Two hours of making pastries; Shrewsburg cake, bread and butter pudding with currants, and jam tartlets, she finally came to a decision. The only way to stop thinking about Nic was to replace him. Although she felt she wasn’t ready to find a husband, she must. It was the only way.
She climbed the porch and stopped in front of the door. She rapped her knuckles on the hard wood, anticipating the moment the door would be answered. She glanced at the basket in Sally’s arms. The aroma from the pastries they had made earlier still smelled heavenly. After all, the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach...and what better way than to make such tasty morsels?
“Do you think he’ll like these?” Tabitha asked her maid, nodding toward the house.
“Of course. This is what one would call a mouth-watering basket—not the pathetic excuse Lord Hawthorne had brought to your meeting.”
“I agree.” Although, Tabitha couldn’t come down too hard on Nic. He really hadn’t known any better.
When nobody answered the door, Tabitha frowned. “Perhaps he’s not home.”
Sally leaned closer to the door and pressed her ear against the wood. Suddenly, her eyes enlarged and she quickly pulled back. “I hear someone coming now.”
Seconds later, the door opened, and when the man locked gazes with Tabitha, his smile grew. “Miss Tabitha. What a surprise to see you.”
“Good day, Mr. Jacobs. I hope my maid and I aren’t inconveniencing you, but we made some pastries earlier, and because we had so many left over, I just had to share them.”
“Pastries?” His eyes moved to the basket and he licked his lips. “Miss Tabitha, you have a heart of gold. Please come inside.” He opened the door wider, limping as he moved.
“Oh, think nothing of it, Mr. Jacobs.” Tabitha went in first as Sally followed. “We are just happy that you’ll eat them.”
Chuckling, he shut the door. “If they taste half as good as they smell, I won’t just eat them—I’ll devour them.” He motioned his hand toward the sofas. “Would you care to sit and visit for a little while?”
“Yes, we do have some time to visit.” Tabitha sat on one of the sofas and Sally settled beside her.
Scanning the meager front room, she noticed it was cleaner today than when she and Sally had been here before. Then
again, the man didn’t have servants. It was just him and his daughter. Once more, she moved her gaze around the room, but this time, she listened for any sounds of Joanna. The little girl would be out of school by now. Tabitha didn’t detect any other sounds.
“Mr. Jacobs? Where is your lovely daughter? I’d hoped to see her again as well.”
His smile faltered. “Joanna has been working in the afternoons for Mr. and Mrs. Littleton as a way to help bring in extra money while I’m laid up. My leg hasn’t allowed me to work for very long during the day in my barn.” He shrugged. “The pay my daughter receives is not a lot, but it does help.”
Tabitha’s heart twisted. She knew very well how it was to help a parent earn money to put food on the table. Thankfully, though, her mother had a great employer—Lady Mathis, may she rest in peace.
“Mr. Jacobs, have you informed Mr. Woodland of your situation?”
His eyebrows arched in skepticism. “The clergyman? Why would I inform him?”
Sally glanced at Tabitha with a raised brow, looking at her as if she’d grown two heads. Obviously, Tabitha had spoken out of turn.
“To see if he knows of anyone who will be able to help you.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Forgive me if it’s none of my business, but I would think a man of God could assist you in some way. Also, he might know of others who could lend a helping hand until you’re back on your feet.”
Sighing deeply, he rubbed his forehead. “Miss Tabitha, I do appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I am a prideful man. It’s extremely hard for me to tell people of my dire situation. I’m not certain at this time whether I want Mr. Woodland knowing about my circumstances.”
“Please accept my apology then.” She smiled. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Oh no, you didn’t offend me at all, I assure you.”
“Then I shan’t say a thing to the clergyman, either. Unless…you want me to.”
He chuckled. “No, Miss Tabitha. My knee is gradually healing and I’m sure I’ll be back to working all day in my barn very soon.”
“That’s very good to know.”
Perhaps it was wrong of her to offer the clergyman’s—Nic’s—services, but the idea merely slipped from her mouth. Regardless, she wanted Mr. Jacobs to know she cared about him. He was a very nice man, after all. During Aunt Clara’s birthday party, Tabitha had noticed him looking at her quite a bit. He had talked to her a few times, almost in a flirty way.
The man was perhaps ten years Nic’s senior. Where the marquis had dark hair, Mr. Jacobs was nearly blond. His eyes were a deep brown, and granted, they didn’t have that flirtatious twinkle in them like Nic’s did, but Mr. Jacobs was still a fairly good-looking man. For being a blacksmith, she half expected his body to be more muscular, but unfortunately, Nic still had broader shoulders and more muscles in his arms and legs.
What am I thinking? It didn’t matter if Mr. Jacobs wasn’t built like Lord Hawthorne. Inside a person was what mattered. So far, Mr. Jacobs had shown her a kind and loving man. Nic...well, all he’d shown her was how seductive he could be.
“Would you like to try one of my pastries?” She pointed to the basket as Sally brought it toward him.
“I thought you would never ask.” His grin broadened as he looked inside. “They all look so tasty.”
He withdrew a jam tartlet and then bit into it. Satisfaction spread across his face. Tabitha smiled, relieved that he enjoyed them. The blacksmith sighed heavily. His gaze met hers and the look in his eyes told her she had gained his favor. At least with her pastries.
“Miss Tabitha, I’ve never tasted anything so wonderful. Indeed, you are a magnificent cook.”
She laughed. “You may want to hold that thought until after you have eaten a meal I’ve prepared. I fear you may change your mind.”
“Never.”
“Well, your compliment is very kind, nonetheless, and I shall cherish it always.” She stood and quickly, Sally rose as well. “I believe we have stayed too long,” Tabitha continued. “I hope to see you again very soon.”
Mr. Jacobs scrambled to his feet, using the crutch to lean on. “Indeed you shall.” He limped toward the door and opened it. “It was lovely visiting with you, Miss Tabitha. And I thank you again for these delicious pastries.”
“You are very welcome.” Tabitha stepped outside and stopped. “I’ll send Sally back later to collect the basket. But you had better save some of those treats for your daughter, Mr. Jacobs, or I shall be very vexed with you.”
“Not to worry. I shall save her some.”
“Good day,” she said and turned to walk back toward the street.
Once they were far enough away from the house, Sally quickened her step until she stood next to Tabitha.
“Miss Tabitha, I must admit, I was quite surprised at you.”
She glanced at Sally and arched an eyebrow. “You were? Whatever for?”
“You were being mighty sweet on that man. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you act in such a way.” Sally giggled. “I was rather proud of you, in fact.”
An unlady-like laugh escaped Tabitha’s mouth, and she quickly covered it with her hand. “You were proud of me?”
“Yes. I do believe you are finally acting like a lady instead of the servant you’ve been for most of your life.”
Shaking her head, Tabitha twisted her hands, keeping her gaze ahead of them. “I don’t think I shall ever become the lady my half-brothers wish me to be. But I’m tired of trying to protect myself from men like Lord Elliot…and Lord Hawthorne.” When Sally opened her mouth to talk, Tabitha held up a hand to stop her. “I know Hawthorne is nothing like Lord Elliot, but in the same respect, he is because he enjoys breaking women’s hearts. Nevertheless, I’m moving on with my life and away from Hawthorne. At the moment, I find Mr. Jacobs interesting, and that’s why I acted as I did while we were at his house.”
A light wind blew from the east, flinging a lock of Sally’s hair across her face. Swiping her finger around the curl, she hooked it behind her ear. “I think Mr. Jacobs took notice. You will see more of him, I’m quite certain of it.”
Tabitha couldn’t stop a grin from stretching across her face. Perhaps there was a reason she came to North Devon. For the first time in her life, she felt as if this might be where her future was. Since there was no such thing as love at first sight, she knew she would eventually come to like Mr. Jacobs and hopefully, he would create the same kind of havoc inside her body that Nic created whenever he was around.
Up the street a group of people were gathering. The closer Tabitha walked, the louder their voices grew. Confused and panicked faces were on all of them. Something was definitely wrong. When she finally reached the group, they were standing in front of the good physician’s home.
Mrs. Stiles broke away from the crowd and hurried toward Tabitha. The older woman’s pale face and watery eyes caused Tabitha’s heart to lurch.
“Oh, Miss Tabitha.” Mrs. Stiles’ voice shook as she clutched Tabitha’s hands. “Something awful has happened.”
“Aunt Clara?” she whispered brokenly.
“No, dear.” Mrs. Stiles shook her head. “Your aunt is still at home.”
A wave of relief swept over Tabitha. “Then what is wrong?”
“Mr. Woodland found a dead body buried in the beach not too long ago.” She brought a quivering hand to her throat. “The name of the person is still unknown. Mr. Woodland is in with Doctor Cope right now.”
Both Tabitha and Sally gasped at the same time. Tabitha squeezed Mrs. Stiles’ hand. “That is horrific. Poor Mr. Woodland.”
The older woman nodded. “Yes, I can only imagine how it would be.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around her bosom. “Actually, I don’t want to imagine how it would be. I may faint dead away.”
“As we all would.” Tabitha patted the older woman’s shoulder as she scanned the crowd again. Sickness grew in her stomach. Not another murder! After what had happened six months ago with Lord Tristan and La
dy Diana, Tabitha didn’t think she could stand it. She prayed they found the culprit soon, or she may have to rethink staying in North Devon.
* * * *
Nic’s mind swirled in confusion. Not more than thirty minutes ago, the doctor had identified the body. David Griffin, nineteen-year-old son of Daniel and Lucy Griffin, had been the person Nic found buried in the sand. He didn’t know much about David, but he seemed to be a good son and he helped his father out on their farm. From what Nic could see while in church, David had been a charming fellow and made many girls sigh with dreams in their eyes as he walked by.
Shaking his head, Nic paced the floor as the doctor continued to examine the corpse. None of this made sense. Two hours ago after he’d found the boy, he’d summoned the constable to have the body dug out of the ground. Immediately, the doctor could tell David had been strangled because of the bruises on his neck. Now Nic waited for the doctor to tell him more…and for the constable to see if they found anything else in the sand by the boy’s burial.
Nic hadn’t had time to hurry home and inform Frederick. He would certainly want to know since Frederick had known these people a lot longer than Nic. Would this be the thing that ended his and Frederick’s switch? Naturally, the real clergyman would want to come out of hiding and do his job as the town’s comforter. Frederick would know Bible verses to give to the grieving town. Nic definitely didn’t know that.
“Look at this,” the doctor said in a confused voice.
Nic stepped closer to the table where the body had been laid upon. Doctor Cope had on some glasses that magnified his view, and peered at the boy’s ankle. Nic didn’t really want to get any closer. The corpse was beginning to reek badly.
“What have you found, Doctor?”
“David’s ankle was broken.” The physician raised his head and met Nic’s eyes. “I don’t recall the boy breaking his leg at all. He never came to see me, anyway.”
The Sweetest Secret Page 10