“Mr. Woodland? What….are you doing here?”
He could ask her the same question, which he would after he figured out a reason for being here. “Well, you see, I was at home studying the Bible, and I had a strong impression that I needed to come to this house.” Not bad, if he had to say so himself, especially since a little of it was true. “What are you doing here?” He glanced from her dirt-smudged gown, down to her mud-crusted shoes, then up to her gardening gloves.
“Oh, well…I have been tidying up the yard lately.” She shrugged. “It gives me something to do, and I’m helping Mr. Lancaster take care of his property while he’s away.”
“I haven’t seen Mr. Lancaster around for several months. Do you know where he went?”
“I believe he’s living with his brother now. Mr. Lancaster was getting on in years and could not afford to take care of the house, nor did he have the strength to care for himself.”
“Yes, I suppose, but…” Nic scratched his chin and narrowed his gaze toward the house. “I’m still wondering why I received such a strong impression to come here. It was as if the Lord was trying to tell me something.”
“Oh, dear.”
Miss Talbot had said it so softly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “What did you say?”
“Uh, well…I just don’t know why you were prompted to come here.” She shook her head. “It’s just me, and I’m fine. Unless—” She batted her eyes as if she were a young flirtatious girl once again, and moved closer. “Perhaps you came to help me.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Help you do what? Tidy up the yard?”
She chuckled and flipped her hand in the air. “Heavens, no. I’m doing well enough by myself. However, I would love some company. If you’d come inside,” she motioned her head toward the house, “I will fix you some tea.”
He was about ready to ask her where they’d sit since the last time he was here, there was not a stitch of furniture in the house, but then he quickly decided against saying that. He didn’t need her asking questions as to why he was in the house. “Well, I suppose. But I cannot stay long. I’m preparing Sunday’s sermon.”
“Oh, how nice. Perhaps you can tell me all about it over tea.”
She walked past him and up the porch steps. When she turned the knob and opened the front door, he wondered how she was able to accomplish that since the door had been lockeda few weeks ago. Unless, she had taken over the inside of the house as well as the outside.
Hesitantly, he followed her in…and halted in shock. Two couches and one small table stood in the room. Curtains even hung on the windows. Where had all of this come from?
“Mr. Woodland, please come in the kitchen with me. It’s cozier in here. I haven’t been able to keep the sitting room clean.”
Cautiously, he stepped into the kitchen, and once again, surprise washed over him. There was a table and two chairs, and even some pots and a kettle on the stove. A scent of roast beef hinted the air. Food? She was cooking food? Here instead of her own house? Definitely, something was afoot here.
She went to the cupboard and withdrew two teacups before moving to the stove. Suspicious, Nic narrowed his gaze. What was going on? None of this was in the house when he and Tabitha had walked through a few weeks ago.
“So, Miss Talbot,” he began, hoping he’d know the right words to say to get her talking about Tabitha. “I noticed you with Miss Paget yesterday afternoon down by the beach.”
Her body stiffened as she stood in front of the stove. “You did?”
“Yes. She’s a lovely woman, don’t you agree? So kind and caring. Did you know she and her maid have been assisting Mr. Jacobs and his daughter?”
“Uh, no…I wasn’t aware of that. She hadn’t told me.” Miss Talbot glanced at him over her shoulder. “Do you think Miss Paget is seeking Mr. Jacobs out for marriage purposes?”
He could see by her hopeful expression that this was what she’d wanted. Instead of going along with the idea, he decided to shake things around. Frederick might hate him, but it’s something Nic felt he had to do in order to get answers.
“Actually, I think she was just helping him out of the kindness of her heart. Not only that, but the other day, I noticed the way Mr. Jacobs was eyeing Miss Paget’s maid, so I think there might be a marriage soon between the blacksmith and the maid.” He wagged his eyebrows. “That being said, I must confess that since Mrs. Burls’ birthday party, and since the song Miss Paget and I sang together, I have been thinking of her more and more. And then when I rescued her from drowning, I felt differently about her. Something special warmed my heart.” He sighed heavily for dramatic purposes, and smiled. “I’m thinking of seeking her out for marriage, myself.”
Slowly, Miss Talbot turned toward him. Her expression changed from light-hearted to sour in the course of a few seconds. Lines of anger creased her forehead, around her eyes, and mouth. Even the color of her eyes had changed, growing a darker brown.
Good heavens, if he wasn’t mistaken, he had finally found the words that brought out the devil in her. Literally!
“You don’t say,” she spat.
The tone of her voice grated on his nerves. He watched her closely, wondering if her fingernails would turn into claws and horns would sprout from her head, but so far they hadn’t. But her whole countenance had shifted. No longer did she appear the kind older woman he’d been visiting with these past few months. Instead, she looked like a beast; evil and menacing.
“Is something wrong, Miss Talbot?” Of course, he acted as if he didn’t notice her sudden change.
“Wrong? Of course not, Mr. Woodland. What could possibly be wrong? After all these years, you are finally thinking of marriage once again. How lovely for you.”
