“I’ll stay with Brynn,” Maddy said. After a glance that Maddy realized held gratitude, Rhys turned to join the duke. Phillip, too busy with business, ignored her. She took Brynn’s arm and poured all that she felt for him into a smile. His only response was to cover her hand with his and lead her toward his past.
The village, purpose-built a generation before to house mine workers and their families, had the same aura of organization and efficiency as the colliery, far outshining some of the villages she had seen on the way to Merthyr Tydfil. Toddlers played in tiny plots of grass. Little window boxes promised flowers in the spring. Women, grandmothers largely, hung laundry to dry. Maddy suspected the younger women worked at the colliery. If not precisely prosperous, neither did it appear degraded or desperate.
Brynn walked with grim focus down the main road, gazing neither to the right nor the left, and led her down a cross road to the second house from the end. He knocked without hesitation, taking Maddy’s hand in his free one. No one answered. He frowned, swallowed, and knocked again without ever letting go of her hand.
“Kin I help you?” A woman, gray-haired and wiry but not gaunt, came from behind the row of houses.
“I’m looking for Mary Carew.”
“Dunno her.” The woman studied Brynn intently. “You Rhys Morgan’s brother?”
“Aye. Mary lived here once.”
“Becca might know of her.” She left without waiting for a reply, and Brynn seemed determined to wait in sullen silence. Maddy felt only relief when the woman returned moments later with another woman, stooped with age, leaning on her arm.
“This is the gent, Becca. Looking for family named Carew.”
The wizened old woman blinked up at Brynn. “Come closer, lad. I don’t see too well.” She cackled. “Nor hear, either, these days.”
Brynn leaned down. “Rebecca Cornwall, is that you?” Maddy heard a lift in his voice.
“Brynn Morgan, have you come at last?”
“I have. I hoped to see Mary Carew.”
“Long gone, that one. Came into some money after her man died, and took off. Didn’t your brother tell you?”
“That he did not.” Brynn spoke through clenched teeth, squeezing Maddy’s hand so hard her eyes watered, and his fierce expression alarmed her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Everything in Brynnurged him to storm up to the colliery and confront Rhys.
Why did my lying, disloyal, swine of a brother ask me if I visited Mary Carew when he knew she’d moved away?
He stood rigid, oblivious to his surroundings until the ringing in his ears cleared and he realized the old woman was still speaking.
“…think she did. I get confused these days. Can you sit for a while, you and your lady wife? I might remember better if I think on’t. I could do with a spot of tea and a bit of company.”
Brynn clamped his jaw shut.Rhys knows the truth. I don’t want to waste time. I should…
“We would be pleased to sit with you,” the woman who was certainly not his lady wife answered. She tugged on his hand, and he realized he had clamped her fingers in his. Her pleading expression recalled him to his manners.
“Your Grace, may I make known to you Rebecca Cornwall, beloved fixture of Morgan One. Rebecca, the Duchess of Glenmoor is my friend, not my wife.”
The old woman glanced pointedly at their clasped hands, dipped in a shallow curtsey—more than a woman her age ought—and murmured. “Honored, Yer Grace.”
Fine. Now I have to—
“I hope the offer of tea is still open. I’m parched.” The duchess—another turncoat—beamed down at Rebecca Cornwall, while the woman who’d gone off to fetch her gaped at them, openmouthed.
Becca smiled sweetly and turned to her house. Madelyn yanked on his hand, dragging him along.
*
He needs tohear this person out, not run away. Again. It seemed to Maddy that Brynn Morgan had done quite enough running from this world in which he’d grown up.
The house they entered was tidy and well cared for, tiny but cozy in the way of a well-loved home. The central room that obviously served as kitchen, sitting room, and dining area had been swept. Clean dishes had been stacked on a shelf, a rough tablecloth with embroidered flowers on its corners covered the table, and a jar of winter greenery sat on a chest in the corner. Maddy could easily imagine flowers there in the spring.
