He was still pale, but the warmer the Nook got, the more colour returned to his cheeks.
“Here. Tea. I couldn’t bring milk or sugar for it, but at least it’s hot.” She offered the mug.
“And most welcome.” He carefully sipped, then sighed and leaned back in the chair, shifting his knees under their covering. “’Tis good to feel warm again. My thanks, Miss Trease. I do believe I’d be dead without your assistance.”
She snorted. “You would have recovered consciousness sooner or later, Mr Hawkesbury. And found help too.” She wrapped her hands around her own mug and studied him from the chair on the other side of the hearth. “So, would this be a good time for you to relate the story of how you arrived here? And ended up nearly face down in the stream, freezing to death?”
“A little dramatic,” he commented, raising his eyebrows.
“Possibly, but not far from the truth.”
He sipped again, using the movement as a delaying tactic. What to tell her? How much would she believe, and what wasthe likelihood she’d run home and reveal all to her parents? That would put the cat amongst the pigeons, without a doubt.
“You said your name is Richard Hawkesbury, yes?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Do you reside in this area?”
He shook his head. “No. I have lodgings in London.” He sighed. “I am a solicitor, and a man of business, Miss Trease. I have clients who hire me for various tasks, mostly to do with estate work. Not everyone needs someone like me as part of their household. So it is convenient to be able to call upon creditable and trustworthy assistance when it’s time to value a property, for example. To take an inventory of estate assets, using current market values…and so on.”
“I see.” She thought about that. “And how do people know you are there to perform these functions? Word of mouth? Or do you work for a firm that hires out gentlemen like you on a regular basis?”
He blinked at the question. “Er—the latter. My employers are Durnford and Hutchins, Solicitors.”
“Hmm.” She thought for a moment. “You seem, if you’ll forgive my bluntness, quite young to be a solicitor. Doesn’t it take many years to acquire that title? You have to be an apprentice to an already practising solicitor, which takes…what…six or seven years?”
She caught him by surprise, and his eyebrows rose. “You are very knowledgeable for a young woman, Miss Trease.”
Her chin shot up. “I read, Mr Hawkesbury. I enjoy learning. In other words, unlike many of my contemporaries whose lives revolve around fashions and balls, I have a mind that works quite well, and I prefer to use it in ways that benefit me as a person.” She let out a defiant snort. “Knowing what fabrics and styles will be de rigueur each Season is, in my consideredopinion, absolutely useless. However, knowing the facts about the sky at night, the stars, and other phenomena visible through my telescope, may one day stand me in good stead. Science surrounds us. How silly to ignore the wonders of this world for a few yards of cambric trimmed with Valenciennes lace.”
He grinned. “Well, that put me in my place. I owe you an apology.”
She waved that aside. “’Tis of no matter. Since you reside in the Metropolis, I’m sure you’re quite used to the fashions and fabrics type of person.”
“I have had some experience there, I confess.” He watched her face. “But know here and now, I respect education. I respect learning from those with more knowledge than myself, and I also read voraciously.”
“Very well then.” She nodded her head. “Having settled that, perhaps now you would tell me why you’re here, why you were attacked, and what was in your bag that apparently nearly cost you your life.”
Richard finished his tea and put the mug down on the table beside him. He was warm at last, tucked up in cloak and blanket, his belly no longer aching with hunger, and the fire in the room burned brightly. “I have a question first. How did you know I was attacked? I might have just fallen and hit my head…”
She gave him a derisive glare. “Your injuries did not come from a fall. Anyone would know that. Unless you make a habit of falling on daggers?”
A look of embarrassment crossed his face. “Um, no.”
“Well then. And truth to tell, I was observing the evening sky last night through my telescope. I saw something that looked like a fight, three people struggling, quite clear against the dusk sky. It was getting darker all the time, but I knew something had occurred.”
“You could have sent a footman…”
She shrugged. “I suppose, yes, I could have. But the word of a young woman with a telescope isn’t going to count for very much when it comes to sending out servants on a cold night.”
“Good point.”
“So, to repeat the question I asked earlier, why are you here, why were you attacked, and what was in your bag that was so important to someone they almost killed you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Oh bloody hell.”
