“I met him when I was running an errand in Chudleigh Crest. He was a gentleman, opening the door for me and carrying my basket. He was handsome, too, with thick brown hair and the most charming manner.”
Recognition sizzled through Gigi. “Was he a waiter at the gala? His name was John?”
“He told me his name was John Brown,” Mattie said with a small nod. “He’d been a waiter in London, and Miss Letty had hired him for that evening. He said he planned to stay on in Chuddums and look for more work because…because…”
“Yes, dear?”
“He said he fell in love with me at first sight. He said he wanted to marry me. And I…I believed him. Because I did, I allowed him liberties. Oh, milady, I’m so ashamed!”
Mattie burst into tears while Mrs. Sommers put an arm around her.
“It’s not your fault,” Gigi said quietly. “He used his charm to manipulate you.”
“When the constable was asking around the village for information about him, I couldn’t come forward.” Mattie’s voice hitched. “I didn’t want there to be talk about me.”
“Mattie is a good girl,” Mrs. Sommers said. “While she’s had her followers, it’s always been a bit of girlish fun. She’s never acted improperly.”
Given her relationship with Conrad, Gigi was hardly going to judge poor Mattie. And she understood the importance of protecting the young woman’s reputation.
“We’ll keep your name out of this,” she promised. “What else can you tell me about Mr. Brown? Any details would be helpful.”
“We met a handful of times at an abandoned cottage. We didn’t, um, talk much.” Her cheeks red, Mattie said, “He told me our meetings had to be secret because he wanted to protect my reputation. He said he would speak to my parents, but he had to improve his prospects first.”
A likely excuse. As likely as the name John Brown.
“He was supposed to meet me the day after the gala, but he never showed. Then I heard that he’d left Chuddums, and I knew. I knew that he’d been lying, that he…he used me.”
Fresh tears dribbled down Mattie’s cheeks.
“Oh, my dear.” Reaching out, Gigi squeezed the other’s hand. “You deserve so much better.”
“Do you think John…do you think he pushed the statue?” Mattie asked. “People are saying it wasn’t an accident, and that is why the constable is looking for him.”
Gigi wasn’t surprised the villagers had figured it out. “Yes, that’s true.”
Mattie drew a shaky breath. “Then I have something that might help.”
Reaching into her skirts, she pulled out a slip of paper and offered it to Gigi. Gigi saw that it was a pawn ticket for a pair of cuff links. Unfortunately, the ticket was torn where the shop’s address would have been. The only clue to the location was the bottom half of a word, which she quickly deciphered: Spitalfields.
This is a clue. A way to track down the assailant.
Her heart thumping, Gigi asked, “Where did you get this?”
“John, or whatever his real name is, dropped it the last time we met. I had planned to return it to him.” Mattie sniffled. “Now I am giving it to you, in hopes that something good will come from my misfortune.”
That night, Gigi penned a letter to Conrad and enclosed the pawn ticket. The discovery filled her with excitement and apprehension. In truth, since he left, anxiety had gnawed at her: What if he was attacked again? What if he was hurt? Would she even know? Although he’d assured her he was taking every precaution—and he was, admittedly, a man who could take care of himself—their separation fueled her worries.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that she ought to be by his side. Yet her parents would never permit it, and she needed to work on winning their approval of Conrad’s suit. She would redouble her efforts when they came back in a few days, and in the meantime, she would send Conrad the clue. She told herself that progress was being made.
She went to bed, intending to send the letter off first thing in the morning.
In the moonlight, her hands were shaking. Even though she’d washed off the blood, she felt the warmth of her beloved’s life seeping through her fingers. She stifled a sob, but there was no one to hear her in the dark woods. She was alone.
He should have never gone off by himself. We should have been together—protecting one another. I failed to trust our love, to keep him safe…and now it is too late.
It was too late—for regrets, for anything but one final act.
Thomas was gone, and soon they would be after her. She would have to flee, but she had one thing to do before she left. Before she pulled up stakes and found her destiny on the road, as her ancestors had done for centuries. Shunned by her family, she would now have to travel alone, but she wasn’t afraid. Her heart was too full of pain and grief and fury to feel anything else.
