Kenna held Victorine’s hurt expression in her mind’s eye as she went about the tasks that kept her from Rhys’s side. If she gave full credence to her dreams, she reasoned, then it did not make sense to treat Victorine as if she were a porcelain figurine and Rhys as if he were the devil himself. Yet her father had been moved to protect his wife and vilify Rhys. Kenna believed she could do no less.
On the pretext of going to town Kenna asked that the curricle be readied for her in the afternoon. Kenna enjoyed driving and she handled the ribbons with skill so no one thought anything of it when she left Dunnelly by herself. The snow-covered road forked a mile beyond her home and Kenna took the less traveled road on her left, the one that did not go to the village.
Kenna could see Tom Allen’s cottage from the road but she did not dare take the curricle closer for fear of breaking an axle on the deeply rutted path to his home. After securing her horses to a tree Kenna walked toward the cottage, waving a friendly hello as Tom stepped out to greet her.
“What brings you here, Lady Kenna?” he asked as he ushered her into his small home. The cottage had one main room and a loft for sleeping, yet Kenna knew Old Tom had managed to raise five children in its tiny confines. Now, as then, everything was neat and lovingly cared for. The children were grown but living close by, and Tom was still the undisputed head of the scattered family. Kenna was surprised not to find one of his grandchildren in evidence. “Surely you don’t bring another offering from your brother?”
Kenna warmed her hands and feet at the hearth before she took a seat at the ancient oak table which was the largest piece of furniture in the room. “No, Tom, no offerings. I’ve come about another matter.” Tom looked disappointed and Kenna laughed, looking pointedly at the well fed belly that strained his brown worsted vest. “You don’t appear ill fed. I would say the season’s been good for you.”
Tom’s deeply lined face crinkled more as he smiled, tapping his middle. “You’ve got the way of it there.” He turned away and began preparing tea for both of them. When he set the cups and pot on the table Kenna poured, serving Tom as if he were her honored guest.
She lifted the cracked cup to her lips with the same care she would have given delicate china. “I’m glad to see you’re well. The children?”
“They’re fine. Jean is going to present me with another grandchild in the spring.”
“That’s wonderful. I believe that will make an even dozen.”
“A baker’s dozen,” Tom said proudly. “Young Tom and Cathy had a boy just before Christmas.”
“I didn’t know.” She hesitated, not certain how to pose her concern. Tom’s ability to provide for his family was not a thing to question without giving thought to the matter. “Everyone is doing well then? There isn’t anything you need?”
Tom bristled slightly then laughed at himself. Young Kenna meant nothing by it. “Aye, well enough.” He winked at her. “If his lordship could part with a bit of venison it would not be turned away.”
“I’ll see to it. And something for the babies also. A toy perhaps.”
“Now don’t go spoiling them. It’s better they learn life’s hard at the outset.” He put down his cup. “What’s this matter that’s brought you here? An old man can’t flatter himself that you’ve come because you’ve missed his company. Enough of this roundaboutation. You used to be more direct.“’
“I’ve come about the trap on Dunnelly land,” she said, looking at him squarely. “I had to release a fox from it this morning.”
“A trap? On your land, you say? Did you think I put it there then?”
Kenna nodded but she knew already her suspicions were ill-founded. Tom’s disbelief was not feigned. “I’m sorry I offended you, Tom. I know traps are not your way, but I didn’t know who else might be responsible.”
“Humph. Not likely. Can’t abide traps. I shoot clean and for the kill.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I heard you,” he said gruffly, not ready to forgive her yet. “I’d like to see this trap. Is it still there?”
“I didn’t move it. I don’t think Rhys did.”
“Rhys Canning is here?”
“He came early this morning. He is actually the one who freed the fox. I doubt I would have been able to.”
“Ach, you would have found a way.”
Kenna knew then that Tom was going to forgive her insult. “Will you know who set the trap if you see it?”
Tom shrugged his sloping shoulders. “Might. It’s a puzzle why anyone in these parts would set a trap where you might stumble upon it. Everyone knows where you ride in the morning.”
This was a surprise to Kenna. “I hadn’t realized,” she said thoughtfully. “It has been pointed out to me that I am frighteningly predictable. It is rather annoying.”
Tom wasn’t really listening to her. “That damnable trap could have caught your horse. Sorry business, that.”
“Rhys said so, too.”
“Then he’s still got a good head on his shoulders.” Tom stood and began gathering his coat, gloves, and scarf. “Can you take me to the trap? I’m going to have someone’s guts for garters before this day is out.”
