Woodley’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his voice tight. “I didn’t do anything wrong, sir.”
Juliet stepped closer to the footman, graceful yet with a certain measure of authority in her stride. “Have you noticed anything strange around the manor? Something—or someone—out of place?”
Woodley hesitated, then slowly shook his head. “Not really, miss. But …” His jaw moved as if he chewed on something. “Well, it’s likely nothing, but I did think I saw someone lingering near the stables a few days ago. Could have been one of the grooms, but I wasn’t sure. I took a look myself, but I didn’t see anything.”
Henry lifted a brow. “And you did not think to mention this before?”
Woodley’s chin dipped to his chest. “I didn’t think it was important. People are always about … I didn’t want to cause concern.”
Henry’s temper flared, and it was a fight to keep his voice steady. “Whether you intended to or not, you have alreadycaused concern by keeping silent. I expect you to come forward with anything else you might recall. No matter how insignificant.”
Woodley nodded hastily. “Yes, sir.”
Henry exchanged a look with Juliet, his suspicion deepening. “I hope you understand the seriousness of the situation, Woodley. If we find out you have been keeping something from us, the consequences will be severe.”
The footman drew in a shaky breath, then squared his shoulders. “I swear, sir, I’m telling you everything I know. I’ve no idea about that note. I don’t know who ‘she’ is. I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“No need for swearing, Mr. Woodley.” Juliet smiled. “Merely tell the truth, for if you do not, there will be nowhere for you to hide once we find out who has been plaguing Miss Russell.”
“Of course, miss,” he mumbled. “I wish Miss Russell only the best.”
“Very well, Woodley. Carry on with your cleaning, though I will take custody of that note.” Henry stretched his palm over the table and retrieved the damp ball of paper from the footman. “For now we will take our leave, but rest assured I—and Miss Finch—will be watching you closely.Veryclosely. Is that understood?”
Woodley nodded fervently. “Yes, sir.”
Once he and Juliet cleared the room, she leaned close to him, her words barely a whisper. “Though he seems more afraid than suspicious—which admittedly could be a ruse—still, I cannot say I trust him.”
“Nor do I,” he muttered darkly, casting a glance back at the pantry door. “He is definitely hiding something. The question is what.”
Chapter 10
Four days passed without incident. Woodley was a model footman. No more shadow figures appeared on Mr. Dankworth’s side of the estate. Neither had there been any notes delivered—save for a cheery greeting from Aunt Margaret, which had put Juliet’s heart at ease. But even so, as Juliet strolled next to Charity and Henry through the merrymakers at the Bedford Harvest Festival, she kept her gaze sharp.
Torchlight painted the mowed field in soft shades of golden orange. Booths stood in rows, selling everything from sheaves of wheat tied with ribbons to apple fritters. Hay bales and pumpkins added to the autumn feel in the air, as did the spicy scent of nutmeg and cinnamon. Even Miss Potter added to the seasonal ambience where she stood near the cider booth, wearing a hat plastered with fall leaves, sprigs of wheat, and a squirrel figurine perched at the very top. Juliet suppressed a grin. The woman possessed more confidence than a battalion of soldiers—and twice the nerve.
Juliet shifted her weight, shoulders easing—just a little. Being that nothing whatsoever appeared to be perilous, perhaps she could let down her guard, just for a moment. After all, Charity was nestled between her and Henry, so no harm could befall the woman here. Would it truly hurt to share in some of the smiles around her?
“Charity! Over here.”
Juliet snapped her attention to the left where a few ladies congregated near a seller of painted fans. One of the women—a buxom brunette with overlarge teeth—waggled her fingers, beckoning Charity to her side.
Charity upped her pace, breaking away from Juliet and her brother. “I’ll catch up with you two later.”
“Not so fast.” Henry pulled her back with a touch to her shoulder. “I cannot keep you safe if you do not stay with me.”
“Henry, really. I haven’t seen Mary and Catherine for weeks, and I miss them.”
He shook his head. “If companionship is what you seek, then invite them to the house.”
“But they are right there.” She flailed a hand towards them, her gaze drifting to Juliet’s. “Tell him. You understand what it’s like to be in the company of ladies you’ve not chatted with for so long. A little time with them will be harmless.”
Charity’s words struck a minor chord in her heart. She did know what it was like to be kept away from friends, for she dearly missed her former companionship with the ladies of Cheltenham … even if they had shunned her after her father’s dastardly deed had come to light. She glanced at Henry. “It is a valid request. We can keep an eye on her from a short distance.”
His jaw hardened, and for a moment she thought he’d deny her; then surprisingly, he gave a sharp nod. “Very well. But do not stray too far with your friends.”
“I promise.” Charity grinned as she scampered away.
A bittersweet sight, that. Juliet had once been so blithe … and now look at her. She blew out a long breath, releasing the jealousy building in her lungs. It was good for Charity to have such a small freedom, considering her recent troubles.
