Charlotte stepped forward. “It was found a short while ago outside the kitchen in the back courtyard.”
But as Timmons’s gaze flicked from the letter to Charlotte, his expression confirmed the last thing that Anthony wanted: his friend was discovering the secret they had guarded since the day he arrived.
Chapter28
Every nerve stood on high alert as Charlotte adjusted Henry on her hip and stepped back to allow Anthony to enter her bedchamber with the cradle hoisted on his shoulder. Out of an abundance of caution, Anthony had suggested that Charlotte and Henry share the same chamber, which would make it easier to guard them both during the midnight hours.
As their situation was shifting around her, noisy thoughts and formidable emotions battled for dominance.
Fear for her son.
Nervousness and uncertainty with Anthony’s nearness.
Continued anger at Roland.
Lack of confidence in herself.
“Where do you want it?” Anthony turned toward her once he reached the middle of her bedchamber.
She pointed to an empty space between the tall, canopied bed and the paneled wall. “There.”
He placed it in the indicated spot and then adjusted the blanket that had shifted within.
They should not be alone in her bedchamber. In truth it wouldnot matter who he was—any man in her personal space was shocking. But what about the past fortnight had not been shocking? All the rules that had so strictly governed her every action just weeks ago no longer seemed to apply. She felt adrift in a world where nothing made sense anymore.
She looked toward the little bed and reached down to run her finger over the vines carved on the canopy. She needed to add another blanket before she could lay Henry down. “Would you hold him for a moment?”
Anthony did not hesitate but stepped closer and lifted him from her arms. Henry giggled and batted his arms, then reached up and touched Anthony’s face. His coat.
The sight of her son in Anthony’s arms tightened her chest.
She could not recall Roland holding Henry. Not a single time.
How different Anthony’s pleasant countenance was from Roland’s haughty one. Even now a grin formed on Anthony’s face as he beheld the baby. Despite his rugged exterior, there was a kindness, a gentleness, that no number of scars or stubble could hide.
The planks beneath his heavy boots creaked with each step as Anthony paced the floor with Henry in his arms. When the creaking stopped, Charlotte lifted her gaze from her task of arranging the bed to see Anthony staring out the window.
Alarmed that he saw something dangerous, she stiffened. “What? What is it?”
He shrugged and turned from the window with a smirk. “Oh, nothing. It only seems that my colleague has taken a fancy to your maid.”
Slightly annoyed at such an observation during such a serioustime, she abandoned her task and joined him at the window. Sure enough, Sutcliffe was there near the drystone wall, and Timmons was on the other side of the half wall. Their figures were mere shadows in the darkness, but the intentions were obvious.
She drew a sharp breath. “I thought you said Timmons could be trusted.”
“He can.” Anthony, as if sensing her discomfort, shifted to face her. “I’ll speak with Timmons about MissSutcliffe tonight. Besides, I need to talk to him about what he saw when he interrupted us, or thinks he saw...” His voice faded.
Anthony rarely was at a loss for words. And yet she knew exactly what he meant. It seemed foolish to tiptoe around formalities. Her initial attempts to avoid him and the past were failing. “Does he know that you and I...?”
“He knows I’m from these moorlands. But he knows no details. About you. And me. The only thing he knows about is the mill.”
She stared down to her hands, trying to mask her concern with a light tone. “What will you tell him?”
“The truth, but as little of it as necessary. I owe him that much. But if you would rather I didn’t, I—”
She shook her head vehemently. “I am certainly in no position to tell you what to do or say. If you are concerned about my reputation, then do not be. I was Roland Prior’s wife, don’t forget. Nothing could happen to my reputation more damning than that.”
The light from the fireplace flickered on the angles of his jaw and lips as he sobered. “Have you told your maid about the letter?”
