Movement caught his attention, snagging away his self-pity. Teddy Chandler was bounding up path toward the door where only last night, Beau had had his heart properly broken.
“Good morning,” Beau said, greeting Teddy with a forced smile. “You’re remarkably spry after a late night.”
Teddy’s eyes narrowed before realization dawned at Beau’s joke. His young face broke into the same benign expression that every youth gave every adult who’d thought they were being clever.
“Yes sir,” he said, then paused, then looked at Beau with a curious expression. “Can I call you Uncle now?”
“I suppose you can,” Beau said. “Can I ask why you’re knocking on my door at this ungodly hour of the morning?”
Teddy gave Beau a look of utter confusion. “It’s not ungodly. It’s nearly ten o’clock. It’s not even early.”
Not willing to debate the relative merits of birds and their breakfast habits with a grown up that should be extolling such virtues, Beau was about to change the subject when Teddy reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope.
“This came this morning,” he said. “Dad said I should bring it right away.”
Beau’s heart lurched as he recognized the stamp from the telegraph office and directions to deliver it straight to the Chandler farm. He let out a low breath and accepted the envelope.
“Thank you.”
Teddy nodded and was about to leave when Beau called out. “Have you seen Miss Murray?”
“She’s in the barn,” he replied. “Hitting a big sack really hard.”
Beau smiled in spite of himself. Teddy continued on his way, while Beau turned his attention to the envelope, wondering if he should get Madeline before he opened it. While she’d made her feelings toward him quite plain, her future would also be shaped by whatever news Dominic brought. Pushing his discomfort aside, he started toward the barn when he caught sight of Madeline running toward the house.
“I saw Teddy running with a note in his hand.” Her skin glowed from her exertions, and she gestured to the note in Beau’s hand. “Did you open it?”
She was dressed in a loose-fitting pair of trousers and a simple blouse over her corset. In her hands was the box of knives he’d first discovered packed away with her books.
“Are you playing at pirate today?” he asked, taking in her figure, which, without the draping of skirts and petticoats, was a cruel reminder of the bodily pleasures they’d shared.
“My fighting clothes,” she said, giving him a shrug. “A lot was said yesterday. I needed to think.”
Despite her attempt at nonchalance, he could tell her armour was back in place. Now, it was protecting both of them.
He tore open the envelope and pulled out the note. As expected, it was from Dominic Ashe.
Good news. Case resolved. Secured confession from new suspect. Bad news. Neil Sweet confessed. Your information was helpful.
There was more—Dominic was asking Beau to meet him in Saint John as soon as possible—but he found himself re-reading that first line over and over. Beau didn’t realize his hand was shaking until he felt Madeline’s hand steady his.
“May I see?”
Wordlessly he gave it to her, then sat down on the bench before his feet gave out.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “Good news and bad news.”
She sat down beside him, and he drank in the steadiness of her presence.
“I feel badly for your stepfather,” Madeline said. “This must have been a horrible betrayal.”
Memories of countless family dinners came into sharp focus, where Frank and Neil had sat deep in conversation, laughing together, while Beau seemed a distant observer. Beau had often joked about Neil being the favourite son.
He rubbed his face with his hands. “I want this to be a mistake.”
* * *
The job was over.
