“And you want me to stop access to the well so that we can find a book that would have been destroyed after lying in the silt beneath all that water?”
“It would prove one of them is lying,” Lord Brathwaite said, a little less certainly.
The innkeeper folded his arms across his chest. “Well, see now, that’s a mighty big inconvenience for me so that you may have the satisfaction you seek. What does it help if the book cannot be salvaged?”
“I shall know one of them is dishonest.”
“Well, for one,” said Brewster. “I can assure you Miss Tully would never lie.”
“And I can definitely vouch for Mr. Ash,” Joy said firmly.
“Moira handled the bucket. And she has lied to me before,” said the earl, homing in on the most likely candidate for his doubts.
“She was just afraid before,” said Barnaby. “And if you promised her no harm would come to her, she would have no reason to be afraid now.”
Lord Brathwaite cleared his throat and softened his tone a little. “Tell the truth, then, Moira, and I assure you, I will not punish you for your clumsiness.”
“I didn’t touch the book! We would have heard a mighty splash if it had fallen in. But it didn’t! It just disappeared, like Alwin and Lyra… and our wings.” Her shoulders drooped.
“Could this Alwin and Lyra have taken the book when they left?” Mr. Brewster asked. It was a practical question, but his eyes drifted to Moira, his brow furrowing at the mention of wings.
“We think they did,” answered Joy. “But his lordship did not see them and is convinced we are making it all up.”
Brathwaite threw up an irate hand. “Well, what would you think if you heard them going on about fairies and blessings on Fenwick and legends of true love? These are childish fantasies!”
Mr. Brewster’s smile returned. “Is this about that manuscript you showed me? The one with the missing pages and the fae circle near the inn?” His eyes grew hungry. “I wondered why those names sounded familiar. Are you saying you actually saw them?”
“No!” said the earl.
“Yes!” countered the other three.
“Seems you’re outvoted there, your lordship,” grinned Brewster, rubbing his palms together. “So, an actual sighting. And there’s a blessing on Fenwick? Tell me more.”
“If you seek true love and drink of the water here, you will find it,” said Moira, her hand upon her heart. “Isn’t it romantic?”
“Here, at my well?” asked Brewster, his eyes glazing over. He was, no doubt, picturing the glorious impact this would have on his ambitions for the inn.
“Any water in Fenwick,” Joy clarified. “After all, this well stands where the spring once bubbled up. But those waters run beneath the marshes and out to sea. All our drinking water has the same source. We’ve been partaking of it all our lives. Only now it has more benefit than mere refreshment or a means to make ale or soup.” She turned to Barnaby. “Just think, anyone could be wishing for love, quietly in their soul, and be sipping a cup of tea made with the water of Fenwick, and their hopes would be realized without them even knowing about the blessing they have received.”
“Who’s to say it’s all the waters, hmm?” said the innkeeper. “The legend started here. The blessing, I gather, was pronounced here. Sounds to me like the magic is local to the Queen’s Barque.”
“No, they were very clear about it being all of Fenwick,” insisted Barnaby.
Brewster waved a dismissive hand. “Perhaps you misunderstood them.” He dusted his palms in readiness for the plans that were surely brewing in his mind. “Well, well, this is an exciting development. I have much to think about, decisions to make. If you will excuse me.”
“What about my book?” asked the earl.
“Sounds to me,” said the innkeeper with a shrug, “that it’s gone the way of the fairies.”
“This is all quite unsatisfactory,” grumbled his lordship.
“Milord,” said Barnaby, “I would not presume to tell you what to do. If you doubt my word, I will accept that my commission with you is at an end. However…” He mustered all his courage to continue. “I believe you know we are speaking true. Lyra touched you. We may have seen her, but you felt her. I know you wish for it to be more logical, but that doesn’t make it less real.”
“Hmph, we shall say no more on the matter for now. We shall return to Hill House, and I will think on this further.”
Barnaby hesitated, then continued boldly. “If it’s all the same to you, your lordship, I would like to walk back. There is something I must ask of Miss Tully’s father. Something of great importance.” Barnaby slipped his arm about Joy’s waist.
“I see,” replied the earl. “Very well, but please do not linger. There are still numerous books to catalogue.”
