“That’s him. I still have the burns from the last time.” He pushed his sleeves up past his elbows, revealing scolding marks across his forearms.
“Arson?” Jessie asked, her voice shaking slightly.
“When it was necessary,” Truman said, lowering the rags so they covered up the sheening skin another time. “Can you talk to him? Persuade the duke it’s time to get me out of here.”
“Mr Truman.” Owen paused, breathing deeply as he tried to think of how to let the man down. “I fear the duke has no intention of helping you out of here. He is not that sort of man.”
Truman’s expression altered slightly, his gaze lowering to the bars between them.
“I have thought it often enough these last six years. I just never wanted to believe it,” he muttered.
“Mr Arnold, surely this is all we need,” Jessie said, pulling on his arm with such abrupt excitement that Owen looked round to see her breathless, her cheeks pink.
“What for?”
“Arson! Someone who can link the duke directly to arson attacks. If we mention this to the magistrate, surely this is enough to see the duke punished for what he has done? Burning down those tenants’ houses, oh, it’s too awful to think of. This must be enough!”
“No, Jessie, it’s nowhere near enough,” Owen said slowly, trying to placate her with a wave of his hands.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“The word of a convicted criminal against a duke’s? No, the magistrate would throw out Mr Truman’s words, saying they mattered no more than that straw beneath his feet.”
Truman grunted as if in agreement with him.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “If not to help me get out of here?”
“To learn the truth about the duke,” Owen said, turning back to look at the convict. “What exactly does Mr Alfred Potts do for him?”
“That’s an easy one; any man can figure it out.” Truman lifted his bearded chin, jutting it high into the air. “He makes the duke money; anyway he knows how.”
“He’s a duke. Why does he need more money than he already has?” Jessie asked quietly. Her words were so softly spoken that Truman laughed harshly, the sound so sudden that she flinched and held onto the back of Owen’s jacket.
“How innocent,” Truman said, still laughing. “Have you not heard of greed, lass? It can corrupt everyone, even a man that already has money in every pocket he can find. For some people, what they have is never quite enough.”
“I hope that isn’t true,” Jessie whispered.
“Jessie, can you doubt it?” Owen asked, glancing back at her. “After what you saw in that house?” He knew it was a harsh thing to say, but it was high time Jessie accepted the duke for what he truly was. She still made such statements, slips that suggested she didn’t want to think him quite as cruel as he was. “How many women were in that house? One was not enough for him, was it?”
Jessie shuddered and looked away.
“I was hoping I would be enough for him.”
“I’m sorry, Jessie. I know you were.”
“Have you done?” Truman snapped. “If there’s nothing more you want to know, I’ll go back to my mat, cursing the duke’s name.”
***
“Something is wrong,” Owen said as the cart neared the house.
“How can you tell?” Jessie asked, her body still taut beside his. She had been the same ever since their conversation with the prisoner, her body going awkward with this tense anger.
“Look.” Owen pointed to the house. Light was beginning to fade from the sky, casting the house in a dark red aura. Within that red light, Diana was standing in the doorway, looking out to the driveway, fidgeting from side to side. Her manner was restless until she caught sight of the two of them, then she scrambled down the front steps from the door, out onto the driveway. “Diana? What is it?” Owen called to her.
He barely stopped the horses before jumping down from the carriage, reaching for her side. The moment her hands were in his, he felt comforted, but he could see it was not enough. Something was very wrong indeed, for her face was pale, and her hands were trembling.
“Thank goodness you’re back,” she said quietly. Lifting one of her hands, he eagerly kissed the back, hardly caring if Jessie saw what they shared. She knew well enough about their secret by now. “It’s about Jessie.” She turned her eyes past his shoulder, calling out to Jessie.
