However, the moment she walked into the house, she didn’t have the chance to say anything as her brother intercepted her. His expression did not appear to be pleased. “Miss Lindquist, might you explain your hostility toward Francis?”
She looked at Henry quizzically. “What do you mean?”
He sniffed in displeasure. “You seemed very curt with him when he is family and should be treated with respect.”
Leah wanted to point out that she was his sister, and yet, he hadn’t bothered to treat her in a similar fashion. But since she wanted to keep the peace, she swallowed down the hot retort that burned on her tongue and said, “In my experience, respect has to be earned. I do not know Mr. Bernard as you do, and I don’t see where a few inquiries were such a detrimental thing to ask.”
Immediately, Henry’s eyes bulged and his face turned a mottled shade of red. “I have found Francis to be very accommodating. He has given a sizeable donation to the church and with his tie to this family, you need to be a bit more charitable to his cause!”
Leah understood now why her brother was so eager to stand in defense of this man. He had offered something to Henry that she could not. She was a draw on his purse strings, whereas the kind and considerate Mr. Bernard had handed over a plethora of funds. It made her wonder how he’d been able to be so generous. He must have acquired some wealth during his years. She pondered what he might have done to do so.
Then again, if Mr. Bernard was tied to the rebellion, that would account for much. And what a perfect place for a man with ill intent toward the monarchy than to retreat to a small village such as Dudley? After proving his loyalty to a vicar and charming a few locals, he was sure to pass suspicion. Leah, on the other hand, wasn’t so easily convinced of his innocence. Perhaps Henry should be watched closely as well. She hadn’t seen him in years. She had no doubt where his politics might lie, and how far he might go to help achieve those odds.
For now, she had to play her part. Lowering her head to appear repentant, she said, “Forgive me, Mr. Lindquist. I fear that I had a moment of weakness and was led astray.”
He sniffed, but seemed placated. “It would do you some good to reflect on your actions, sister.”
“Of course.” She went so far as to bob a slight curtsy, just so he believed he had the upper hand in this particular game.
As she entered her chamber, she went straight to her writing desk where she withdrew some paper. She dipped her pen in the ink and poised it above the page. She wanted to speak to Agnes first, but considering her reticence to speak a word, something told her she wouldn’t dare speak out against anything concerning Henry. Thus, she intended to write to Matthew.
If Harlan still considered her safety to be a main priority, she would put that to the test. And if Mr. Bernard was as villainous as she believed, then surely Harlan would come to her aid.
She closed her eyes, picturing him lying beside her during their last night together, and her heart ached. She vowed that they would be together again.
She wouldn’t be able to bear her current circumstances otherwise.
Harlan returned to his townhouse,his steps shuffling over the threshold . It had been nearly a sennight and every time he walked through the front door, he practically collapsed onto his bed. The day before Harlan was so weary that he’d fallen asleep with one boot still on.
He was working himself into exhaustion trying to decipher where his assassin could be and when he planned to strike. He had joined forces with the Metropolitan Police who he instructed under the authority of Lord Melbourne and they had combed the city of London until there was no stone left unturned. Still, there was nothing.
He might have done the same now, but there was a surprise waiting for him when he arrived. “Matthew?”
He was sitting in the parlor with Hugh, but both men stood when he entered.
The older man shook his head and said, “You look like hell.”
Harlan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel like it.” He dropped his hand when he considered the ramifications of Matthew’s unexpected visit, abruptly on alert. “Has something happened with Leah?”
Matthew glanced at Hugh before he spoke, which immediately put Harlan ill at ease. “She wrote to me.” He held up the letter. “I decided it would be best if you read it yourself.”
Harlan crossed the room and grabbed the missive and eagerly read the words that she’d written in her flowery hand.
I am sending this directly from the post in the village. It is difficult to leave my brother’s house unnoticed, but I must get this letter to you. I feel that the assassin that Harlan might be looking for is in Dudley at this very moment. He is Henry’s brother-in-law. We were introduced yesterday after the Sunday service. His name is Francis Bernard. He makes me terribly uneasy with his dark hair and direct glare. He recently arrived from Paris as well. I thought, what better way to hide in plain sight, than in a small village where most everyone minds their own affairs? He also offered a sizeable donation to my brother that I found particularly interesting…
If you feel this is necessary to relay to Harlan, please do so at the earliest convenience. I have always gone with my instinct, and it is telling me to act.
Leah
Harlan’s hesitation to return to Leah was removed the moment he read her
carefully penned words. He should never have sent her away, nor left her to begin with. She was a more intelligent woman than he’d given her credit for, and if she thought that attention should be paid to Mr. Bernard, then that was what he would do.
“Harlan?” Hugh’s query broke through his reverie.
“Take my place with the constable tomorrow. Matthew and I are going to make a journey north.”
Hugh exhaled a heavy breath and muttered. “It’s about damned time.”
