Chapter Five
“Let me guess. A mouse?” Finn’s tone was wry as he watched Miss Hecate fuss around the room.
She shot him a rather stern glance. “Indeed no. An intruder.” She frowned at the small desk, littered with paper. “I wish I knew what on earth he was looking for.”
“Obviously an intentional act,” he mused.
“Why do you say that?”
He returned her look. “I doubt the casual thief was out for a stroll and thought he’d break in to your study on a whim.” His gaze turned to the window. “Not in this weather…”
“A logical deduction,” she agreed. “Or it would be, if I had anything of value to a thief.”
“No jewellery? Small but valuable pieces of art? First editions?”
She shook her head. “None of that. Which is why I can’t even recall if I locked that door. Or if I’ve opened it since I’ve been here. The weather has not encouraged trips out into the garden.”
“Then I also have to wonder what he was looking for.” Finn found himself at a loss.
Hecate patted a stack of papers back into order, then looked up at him. “Who are you?”
He froze, his mind wrenching back from the curious case of the intruder, to…to blank nothingness. “I don’t know.”
She came to his side then, her hand reaching out for his bare shoulder, but stopping short. “It’s all right. Truly. I had hoped that since you weren’t thinking about it, something might jump back into your memory, unbidden as it were.”
Mrs. Trimmer appeared at the door. “Where’d yer like yer tea, Ma’am?”
She pulled a small side table away from the wall and brought it closer to the couch. “Right here, Mrs. Trimmer. Thank you.” She transferred things from tray to table. “Did you save a cup for yourself?”
“I did, Miss Hecate. Thank yer.” The cook dropped a quick curtsey. “I’m gonna get them vegetables goin’ fer yer soup, an’ throw in the meat. Yer can let it all simmer a while. I’ll be takin’ that nap yer promised me.” She grinned.
“Excellent,” nodded Hecate. “And thank you for adding the scones. I’ll see if they tempt Mr. Finn here.”
Mrs. Trimmer gave him a stare. “Jes’ make sure ’tis only the scones temptin’ ‘im.”
Hecate blinked. “Of course.”
Finn could have sworn the comment had caught her completely by surprise. Which was both good and bad news for him. The good news was that she betrayed no signs of having any designs upon his person. The bad news? She had no designs upon his person. He’d be quite willing to have some of those designs performed on his person by this remarkable young woman. Just as soon as he could stay awake for more than an hour, and also dress himself.
As Mrs. Trimmer left, Dal entered, with what looked like a silk blanket over his arm. “Best I could do, Miss Hecate. I believe it will be necessary for us to procure new clothing for Mr. Finn.” He held up a rather exotic robe. “It will be large, but I have not had occasion to use it. It should suffice for the moment.”
Hecate nodded and turned her back as Finn managed to push himself to his feet. Thankfully Dal was there, since those feet and the legs attached to them were none too steady and he found himself swaying a little. But the other man was careful and gentle, and within moments, Finn’s arms were pushed into sleeves that were a little too long and his chilly skin wrapped in thick silk, a band of which looped twice around his waist to secure the robe completely.
“Keep the quilt with you, Mr. Finn,” said Dal. “The warmth will help.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dal.” Finn sank gratefully back into the couch. “Thank you both. This is the first chance I’ve had to try and express my gratitude.”
“There is no need.” Dal bowed from the waist. “I am Dal, by the way. Just Dal.”
“You are not ‘just’ anything, Dal. And you have my eternal thanks for your care.” He looked at Hecate. “As do you, Miss Ridlington. I have no words to tell you how profoundly grateful I am to you for saving my life.” He was quiet for a moment. “You did save my life, didn’t you? I think I remember someone telling me I had typhus…”
Hecate pulled up a small chair and sat, picking up the pot of tea. “A cup for you too, Dal?”
“Thank you, but no. I wish to walk a little, outside. In spite of the rain.”
“You won’t find him,” said Hecate.
“Bear with me. I must look.” He dipped his head, turned and left.
