Daniel turned, his thoughts burning dark with startling speed. “Did you become a vicar while I was in London, Mr. Treglown? Or perhaps you joined the government or gained a title?”
The man blinked and stepped back. “I don’t understand, my lord. I am as I have always been,” he said with a slight bow. “Your humble servant.”
“Then you need to look up the word ‘humble.’ What right do you have to tell anyone—least of all my guest—what she should do with her time?”
He straightened, his back tightening with an audible creek. “I have the right of all men, my lord. A woman must keep to her tasks while the men keep to theirs. It is as God ordained.”
“It is how English men ordained—”
“This is England!”
“—And it is not anywhere in theBible.”
The man gaped at him, his color turning purple with rage. “That’s blasphemy!”
“No. It’s scholarship.” Then Daniel folded his arms and wondered how he had ever thought the man decent. Given the way the idiot was turning up his nose at Li-Na set his teeth on edge. But, of course, the real reason for such ugliness was because she had likely uncovered the truth about him. “Mr. Treglown, have you been skimming the accounts? Did you trick Mrs. Hocking regarding her chickens, charge me for labor that came free, and take what was not lawfully yours?” He spoke in a conversational tone, but his gaze was hard on the man’s face.
“Blasphemy!” the man sputtered. Then he stabbed his finger at Li-Na. “Witchcraft! She has bewitched you!”
Well, that last part was certainly true, but not in the way this cheat intended. “Shall I show you the accounts?” he asked, his tone level.
“She has magicked them into lies!”
He sighed. “I cannot believe a solid Cornwall man like yourself believes in such nonsense.”
“She summoned the witch woman when you were ill, didn’t she? I heard she sent the doctor away!”
Had she? He barely remembered. It was a summer infection, nothing else. He doubted the doctor or the local herb woman, as he preferred to call her, did anything but help him wait out the time while his body recovered. But whatever happened made no difference.
“Answer me clearly, Mr. Treglown. I have your ledgers written in your own hand and the statements of your neighbors. Did you charge me for labors they donated for free? In the raising of the Dungey barn or the cleaning of Widow Greeves’ pigsty? Did you have me pay double for wood, half again that for foodstuffs?”
“Nestle-bird!” he bellowed. “You are bewitched!”
“And you, Mr. Treglown, are sacked. I suggest you rush home and gather your things. I shall be there within an hour, and I think I will find a great deal of wealth there that does not belong to you.”
“You can’t do that! You’re not the earl and not his guardian. You’re not worth the mud on my boots!” Then he turned and spit straight at Li-Na.
It was a horrible thing, filled with hate and venom, and Daniel was frankly startled to see it from someone he had known all his life. Li-Na, however, wasn’t surprised. She avoided the phlegm easily with a quick sidestep. And Daniel—after seeing that she was safe—expressed himself neatly with a blow to Treglown’s jaw.
The man went down like a rock.
Damn.
Either he’d gotten better at fisticuffs or the men who crossed him had glass heads.
“You are remarkably good at that,” Li-Na stated, her voice filled with awe. “What does nestle-bird mean?”
“The smallest or weakest of the litter. I have always been shorter than my brother.” He shrugged, feeling mildly surprised. “It used to bother me as a boy, but it means nothing to me now.”
She nodded and pressed a kiss to his hand. “What will you do with him now? Do we leave him there?”
He groaned. “I will have to go to his home and clear his things out. God only knows what he’s hidden there.”
“I will help—”
He cut her off with a quick shake of his head. This was a task for large men of authority. And he needed to think about how quickly an accusation of witchcraft could turn ugly. “You said you were going to learn stitching from Mrs. Hocking?”
She nodded.
