“He asked me to pick up an associate of his from the town nearby,” Alain said distractedly, his eyes firmly on the pastry tart in front of him. “I just came here to give the horses a rest. Fresh horses for the next leg of his journeys.”
“Who is this associate?” Owen asked.
“I do not know his name.” Alain shook his head. “Same man who comes here often. The tall one, rather gaunt and lanky.” Owen nodded, recognizing him well from the description.
“Anywhere interesting you have been of late?” he asked, aware that Tommie was pausing with his work on the trifle, looking at the two of them with increasing interest over the bowl of cream.
“Ooh! As you ask, oui, somewhere very interesting indeed. All these tenants, though, it’s no wonder our master feels compelled to go to them.” Alain paused, growing distracted in forking another mouthful of pasty into his mouth. Owen glanced at Tommie, seeing the same frustrated look on his friend’s face at the pause.
“Alain? What tenants?” Owen pressed him.
“Those at Haymarket Field and Avon Acres,” Alain said, holding his fork up in the air and using it to gesture in his conversation. “Imagine that? The bad luck of it all. Two lots of tenants’ houses burnt down to the ground. Of course, the duke had to go. Terrible things I’ve seen, oh! The sight of it all! Too much to bear. There were hardly any houses left. Merely blackened carcasses.”
“Wait a minute, are you saying that the two fires recently, at Haymarket Field and Avon Acres, the duke owns the land for both?” Owen asked, aware that Tommie had given up completely making the trifle and walked towards them, carrying the bowl of cream in his hand.
“Oui. What poor luck it is!” Alain finished the last of his tart with a sweep of his fork and sat back in his chair, drinking his tea so quickly that it dribbled down his chin, making both Owen and Tommie curl their noses. “Two tenants’ fields burned down. It sounds rather like someone is out to harm our poor duke.”
Owen had to hold in the scoff he was tempted to make. He would never feel compelled to use the words ‘poor’ and ‘duke’ in the same sentence.
“Is the duke rehousing the tenants?” Tommie asked.
“No.” Alain stood to his feet as he finished his tea, wiping the dribbles from the scruff of the beard hanging off his chin. “Their fault, you see. Their candles started the fire, so he has no responsibility to rehouse them; that’s what he said to his friend. Must go, with fresh horses, I’ll be sure to make quicker progress through town. Thank you again, Mr Arnold!” Alain was hurrying towards the door, stepping out of the kitchen as quickly as he could.
When the door closed behind him, Owen looked back to see Tommie reaching into the bowl of cream and lifting a spoon out, then flicking it in Owen’s direction.
“Oi, what was that for?” Owen asked, tempted to laugh as he wiped away the flecks of cream from his cheeks.
“You can guess very well what that was for. Why are you investigating the duke’s business, Owen? It’s not our business, is it? You’re his butler.”
“He has a wife that should know what he’s up to.”
“What mess you have got yourself into now!” Tommie said with a laugh as he turned back to the worktop. “You think a little spilt cream is bad? Wait until the duke finds out what you are doing with his wife. There will be even more of a mess to clean up then.”
Owen flinched at the words, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to stay away from Diana now. He would help her as much as he could, and it, at last, felt as if he was getting somewhere.
“Diana was right,” he whispered into the air. “Both fires were on the duke’s land.”
“What was that?” Tommie asked, barely hearing him.
“It can’t be a coincidence, Tommie.”
Chapter 15
“Why are we out here?” Diana asked as Owen pulled her to a stop in the woods.
“Because here, no one can see us.” He reached for a nearby fallen tree and sat on the side of the trunk before reaching into his frock coat pocket and pulling out the paints that Diana had purchased for him.
A few steps ahead, she paused in the frost-covered ground, looking over the green shoots that were beginning to peer through the dappled white dirt, and turned back to him.
“You wish to paint this place?” she asked, gesturing at the trees. “It will certainly make a beautiful picture.”
“It makes a beautiful setting. You are the focus of the painting, Diana,” he said softly, earning her gaze another time. She flicked her head towards him, those delicate cheeks blushing red despite the chill of the air.
“Here? Now?” she asked, motioning to the woods again. “We might be seen.”
“The gardeners are far away from here, and I know the countryside manager has his day off today. No one will find us here. Find a place you wish to sit. I wish to paint you as you are now.”
Diana smiled, blushing another time before she reached for a tree behind her and sat on a branch, not quite leaning back against the trunk, with her white pelisse hanging delicately off her shoulders.
