“Which girls?”April asked bluntly.
He hesitated, searching her face, which she kept carefully focused on him.He melted visibly.“Well, by gossip, Anne Jenson, the blacksmith’s daughter, for one.I believe her brother is helping you out here during the day.”
“Harold Jenson?”April hazarded.
“A simple soul but he knows right from wrong, which is more than Edward seems to.He courted Anne quite assiduously, then publicly ignored her in favour of Peggy, your parlour maid—much to the dismay of young Godley the gardener’s son, who had been walking out with Peggy.There was probably the farmer’s wife at Edgwick, too.There was certainly some trouble over there.It seems Edward can’t pass up a pretty face, and he cares nothing for the trouble he causes.”
“Then you think this attack could be the result of such trouble?”
“It’s possible.I always suspected he would push things too far one day.You will call on me again if you need me?”
April did not point out that she hadn’t actually called on him in the first place.Instead, she said, “Perhaps you and Dr.Fosterson could combine your talents.”
“If we get the opportunity,” Forbes said, shaking his head.“I am not sanguine, Lady Petteril.Not at all.”
***
DESPITE HIS DETERMINATIONto discover Edward’s attacker, Piers found himself unwilling to cast a pall over this rare reunion of friends.Listening was also a useful tool of investigation, so he was doubly happy to join Hubb in a brisk walk after breakfast.
The primary purpose of the walk was to indulge Hubb’s interest in botany, though Piers discreetly guided their steps through the woods in the general direction of the summer house.It was a good excuse to poke amongst the undergrowth while they admired the fine display of bluebells.
While Hubb happily examined the different species, Piers poked around looking for any signs of bloodied sticks or stones.
“English, Spanish and hybrid,” Hubb said.“This is an excellent wood.”
“You should come and see the home wood at Haybury some time,” Piers said.“Fellow called Camden found a ghost orchid there last year.”
Hubb’s eyebrows flew up.“Epipogium aphyllum?Good God!I gave up looking for those.Wasn’t Sir Darius Camden by any chance?”
“That’s the man.Definitely an enthusiast.He was pleased as punch to discover it—the day before he left the area too.”
“Iwillcome and have a poke around,” Hubb said determinedly.
“You’re welcome any time, with or without your lady wife.You all are.”
“Very civil of you, Withy.”Hubb sounded unexpectedly earnest.He straightened and moved on.
Piers whacked at some undergrowth with the long stick he had brought for the purpose.
Hubb said diffidently, “Sorry about the fuss Katherine made over her wretched reticule.I assure you she isn’t normally like that.I think she was nervous of meeting you all.Still, I knew it would turn up somewhere obvious.”
“I’m very glad it did.But she was right, you know.It definitely wasn’t there yesterday.Things in that house do appear to move and return at will.Whosewill is the question.”
Hubb coloured faintly and Piers wondered if Mrs.Hubb had blamed April for the disappearance.“It makes no sense.Why would anyone bother?It makes a rather lame trick.I can imagine a servant might steal it, though I’m not saying anyone did.But then, why give it back?”
“Perhaps there was nothing in it that could easily be sold.”
“I doubt there was.A comb, a pin, a handkerchief, and a letter she hadn’t answered.Or at least, that’s what she told me when I asked.”
Piers regarded him carefully.There was some slight edge in his friend’s voice that made him say tactfully, “Do you think she forgot something?”
“Why else would she have made such a fuss?”
The letter, thought Piers.He whacked at some more brush around a tree trunk and then used the stick to point at another wildflower, pale beside the riot of bluebells ahead of them.
Hubb told him both the popular and Latin names, though they meant nothing to Piers.
“Funny to see you married,” Piers said casually.
