Always Believe in Love (Emerson Book 4) Page 7

  “And I most certainly do not.”

  “My admiration grows for you with each such declaration. But will it not be awkward to continue on at the vicarage if you refuse him? Can he make you leave?”

  “He cannot make me leave the village, though Mr. Bramwell could evict me. And while the inheritance from my parents is adequate for me to rent rooms elsewhere, some additional income would be useful. Yet, I am not sure how I’d earn any in the village. I would likely have to leave.”

  “Have you thought of where you’d go or what you’d do?”

  She thought of little else as of late. “I’ve thought of being a teacher or perhaps a governess. Before he passed away, Oscar wrote a recommendation for me. So, I have the one reference, though I do not know how far it would take me.”

  “Perhaps I can help you. My sister-in-law in Wiltshire was once a governess. She might have suggestions. I can write to her for advice.”

  She was touched by the offer. “But you barely know me, sir. Why would you be willing to go to so much trouble?”

  He looked out at the sea and for a moment it appeared he wouldn’t answer her. “Because I understand what it is to feel alone in the world.”

  Now she wished he hadn’t answered because she could feel the pain in his words. “But you have your siblings.”

  “Yes, and, therefore, my situation is easier than yours. Not to mention I am a man and have a living through my inheritance.”

  “But other than that, we are almost exactly identical,” she said, as she laughed.

  He laughed, as well. “Very well, minx. Our situations are in many ways dissimilar. Yet, I still feel alone at times, though I know I have no right to. My family situation is unusual. I love my brothers and sisters very much, but they are my half-siblings. And while we have never treated each other as anything less than the full bonds of blood, I still spend much of my time alone. I envy them their close bond. They even live in the same house, while I am an hour away and am prevented from making the trip more often by a myriad of responsibilities. I am part of my brothers’ and sisters’ lives, yet sometimes I feel very much apart.”

  His admission almost brought tears to Kate’s eyes, not just for him, but for herself, as well. “In some ways, it is much the same way for me here. I am friends with many of the people in this village, but there is always a distance.”

  “Because of the difference in your social classes?”

  “Not in my eyes, but in theirs. And they all have families. So while we may talk in passing and dance at the assemblies, I have very little interaction with them. Feeling lonely in the middle of a group can be worse than being alone.”

  “Yes,” Mr. Chilcott said quietly. “It can.”

  They walked along in silence for a few moments. He looked out at the sea again, before clearing his throat and continuing. “I believe this conversation is at risk of becoming far too serious.”

  “I agree. We should immediately change the subject. Do you think you shall ever eat cod or haddock again?”

  “I shall delight in eating as many as I can as a way of personal revenge, though not for several months. And only when they’re cooked and sauced.”

  Miss Winston laughed. “You do amuse me sir, but I’m afraid I must return to my original question. Why are you really here?”

  * * *

  Nick looked at the lady by his side. It had been difficult to refrain from pulling her into his arms when she’d been speaking of her loneliness. He certainly had no right to do such a thing, but for that moment he’d felt closer to her than just about anyone else he’d ever met. Which was foolish, of course. Yet, he still couldn’t shake the feeling. “My cousin is about to publicly accuse my late father of committing treason during the war, a charge I believe to be baseless.”

  She turned to him in surprise. “But why would your cousin do this? Wouldn’t it bring shame upon him and the rest of your family?”

  Nick didn’t want to tell her he was an earl. He feared things would change once she knew who he was. But he had no choice if he wanted her help. “I am an earl.” He braced himself for her reaction.

  She laughed.

  That wasn’t quite the reaction he’d been expecting.

  “Forgive me, my lord. It isn’t that I didn’t suspect you were a nobleman, it is just that at the moment, I’m picturing you hoisting yesterday’s fish. It wasn’t very earl-like.”

  “Now it is my turn to take your comment as a compliment.”

  “As it was intended. Which earl are you, so I know what to call you?”

  “You can call me Nick.”

  “No, my lord. I cannot.”

  He sighed. A wall had been erected between them, just as he’d feared. “My name is, indeed, Nicholas Chilcott. I did not lie about that. I just omitted the fact that I am also the Earl of Layton.”

  “Lord Layton,” she said, as if trying out the name. “I’ve not heard of your family, though we get very few earls in the village. You may be the first. You’re certainly the first to sort fish.”

  “How fortunate for me.”

  “This horrid cousin of yours, what’s his name?”

  “Simon Chilcott,” said Nick, mollified by the “horrid” part.

  “He has not been here. At least, I don’t remember any London toffs coming through recently. And he sounds the sort to make his presence known. Is that why you wanted to see the archives? To see if it told of your father’s supposed perfidy?”

  “I thought it would be a good starting point. Simon hasn’t said much, other than to lead me to believe the old earl smuggled spies to and from France.”

  Miss Winston stopped and put her hand on his arm. “You didn’t tell that to the lads, did you?”

  “No. You are the only one I’ve confided in.”

  “That was wise,” she said, with a bit too much surprise in her voice.

  “I do come up with the occasional good idea.”

  She laughed again. He was fond of the sound of it.

  “I didn’t mean any insult, but the lads can be very sensitive about their activities, especially to outsiders. They wouldn’t take kindly to someone asking questions, especially for something they could still be hanged for.”

  “So they were smuggling spies?”

  “No!” she said. “Well, actually, I do not know for certain, but I don’t think so. I was young and Oscar never let me near the oceanfront without him. As you likely guessed, there was some freetrading – but you cannot blame them for that. There’s not a fisherman on the whole coast who didn’t dabble in it and I’ll not have you report them to the authorities.”

  “Relax, Miss Winston, I’ve no desire to get anyone in trouble. I just need to find answers if I can.”

  “Isn’t it going to be difficult to prove your father wasn’t involved? You are looking for a lack of evidence.”

  “That is the challenge. But I’ve learned that someone from my area was involved. So if I can find out who it was, then perhaps I can find a way to exonerate my father.”

  “You must have loved him very much.”

  “I…respected him, but we didn’t have a good relationship. However, I do not wish to have a man’s honor impugned when he’s not alive to defend himself. And, I would just as soon not have my cousin take the title.”

  “I can imagine it would be difficult to give up.”

  “There are some advantages which come with the title, but just as many responsibilities. More people’s futures are at stake than mine.”

  “Fair enough. Then, yes, I’ll help you.”

  Nick was surprised by the relief he felt. Her assistance would make the task much easier, especially if it meant he didn’t have to help the fishermen with their blasted catch again. “I would appreciate it if you’d keep the true nature of my visit to yourself.”

  “Yes. I believe that would be in everyone’s best interests – especially yours.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Where should we begin?” asked Nick a
s they stood in the archives surrounded by dusty journals.

  “Since I have yet to come across a section for Spies and Acts of Treason They Committed, I suggest we go through the volumes for the ten years prior to the start of the war.”

  “Ten years before the war?”

  “Yes. The villagers do not trust outsiders easily. They would’ve had to build up a relationship with the person over a matter of years.”

  “Wouldn’t enough coin be an adequate introduction?”

  “Not here. These men were risking not only their lives, but their families’ future. Money offered naught but a temporary solution. They also had to consider who would provide for their families if they were caught and hanged. No, they had to trust the person who hired them – if that person even existed. And that meant a relationship built up over time.”

  “But that would hardly be recorded here, would it?”

  “Not in so many words, but you’d be surprised at what these journals of the ‘minutia of life’ reveal.”

  “I truly wish I’d never described them in such terms.”

  “Yet if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have the chance to tease you about it.”

  “I believe you would’ve found something else to tease me about, Miss Winston.”

  “I daresay you are correct, sir.”

  She searched the shelves until she found the volume she wanted, which was above her. She reached to lift the thick ledger. It looked to be heavy so Nick reached behind her to remove it for her. Unfortunately, it meant the front of him was pressed down the back of her. The effect was immediate and so intense he almost dropped the blasted ledger. She must have felt it, too, for she froze in mid-reach.

  He paused for a moment, unable to move away from her. From her heat. But finally he found the strength to turn and set the volume on a table.

  “Thank you,” she said, in a gratifyingly breathless manner.

  For the next several moments, she stayed a safe distance away as she pointed at ledgers and he took them off the shelves. When they had a sufficient number, he asked, “Where shall we do this?”

  “I suppose we shall have to share the table,” she said, indicating the parson’s style desk where he’d first encountered her. She handed him a ledger from 1793.

  “And what exactly are we looking for? If my father is involved, I doubt he used his real name.”

  “Anything that might indicate a stranger has come to the village.”

  “How am I to identify strangers?”

  “That will quickly become apparent. As you peruse the birth, marriage and death notices, you’ll see the same names over and over again. You’ll soon reach the point where you’ll recognize a new one.”

  “But if the stranger didn’t marry or die here, how would he be recorded?”

  “These volumes often list attendees at various events. Any stranger who wished to ingratiate himself to the villagers would have attended at least a few of them. There is a good deal of gossip in these books.”

  “Why, Miss Winston, I never would have pegged you as a gossip monger.”

  She blushed just the tiniest amount. “You, sir, should begin reading, for we have a great deal of work in front of us.”

  “If you insist.”

  “And I do.”

  Then Miss Winston donned a pair of spectacles and immersed herself in one of the dusty books. And Nick realized he had an attraction to ladies who wore spectacles.

  Or at least to one lady who wore them.

  * * *

  Kate tried in vain not to watch Lord Layton as he perused the ledger, occasionally wiping his hand on his silk handkerchief. She hadn’t been that surprised to learn Mr. Chilcott was an earl, but she had been disappointed. It’d been rather pleasant talking to him when he was only a mister. Even when she thought he might have ulterior motives which could hurt the village, she’d still enjoyed talking to him. Now, she believed him when he said he hadn’t come to do anyone harm. But it wasn’t nearly as much fun talking to him when she knew he was so much above her reach. Not that she’d been thinking of reaching for him. At least not overly much. But just thinking about the back of her being pressed against the front of him was quite enough to warm her all over.

  He was, of course, a handsome man. Not that her head could be turned by something as superficial as a captivating grin, nice hair, and shoulders of perfect proportion to his chest. His thighs weren’t a hardship to look at, either. That was one nice thing about noblemen. They tended to wear clothing which highlighted various body parts. And he had a body that was meant to be highlighted.

  She knew she shouldn’t be having such thoughts, but it wasn’t like she’d ever get to act on them. Unfortunately. So why shouldn’t she give her mind the fun her body would be unable to have?

  She stole a glance at him only to discover he was wholly engrossed in his work. She might not even be there for all the attention he was paying her. So, with a sigh, she began perusing her own volume. After all, there was much work ahead of them.

  * * *

  An hour later, Nick realized his task was far from simple. He’d yet to complete one journal and there were dozens to go. He almost groaned aloud, but then he did what he’d been doing every few moments. He stole a glance at Miss Winston, who was smiling in a way which could be described as semi-maniacal, though it did bring out her remarkable eyes.

  “Miss Winston, I must ask what has you so amused.”

  “These records include some charming details. For instance, a Mr. Walker was sentenced to three days of working on the roof of Miss Smithson’s cottage after he was convicted of public drunkenness, which, I assure you, is not a rare crime in these parts – as you yourself should know.”

  “I do not like your insinuation, Miss Winston,” which was a bit of an untruth since he liked everything about the woman.

  “Mayhap you have the headache from over-imbibing once again.”

  “I did not over-imbibe last night. If I have the headache, it would likely be caused by the dust in these journals.”

  “Yes, well, the problem with storing ledgers in an earthen cellar is that they tend to include quite a bit of earth. As I was saying, Mr. Walker was sentenced to work on Miss Smithson’s roof.” Then she looked at him and grinned.

  “Why is that amusing, other than the roof is not the best place for a man known for drunkenness.”

  “As you would well know.”

  “Miss Winston…”

  She laughed. “I apologize, my lord. For some reason, I cannot resist teasing you. No, the reason it is amusing is because they married and now have five sons. I once asked how they met and all Mrs. Walker said was ‘it was an act of God.’”

  “More like an act of the magistrate.”

  “Exactly. Now, unfortunately, while I have any number of stories such as that, I have yet to see anything pertaining to a stranger in these parts. And such a thing would have been noted.”

  “Did you note my arrival?”

  Her eyes widened just a bit, but he wasn’t sure why.

  She turned back to her ledger. “No, I did not record anything, though I can do so now if you’d like. Would you care to expound on the differences between haddock and cod? I can note them for posterity.”

  “Minx,” he said with a laugh.

  She laughed, as well, and Nick was struck by her exuberance. In the ton, showing such emotion – any emotion – was quite unfashionable. But she was truly lit from within. She had a smudge of dirt on her nose and he wanted to reach out to brush it away. Then he wanted to pull her to him for a kiss. It would be highly improper, of course, but that only made it more tempting.

  He began closing the distance between them and for a moment she leaned into him, before turning back to the ledger in front of her as if pulled by catapult.

  “We should get back to work, my lord, before Mr. Bramwell interrupts us. For I wouldn’t want him to know the real reason you are here.”

  It was some small consolation that she wanted
to keep his confidence. But it didn’t even begin to make up for Nick’s disappointment of not being able to kiss her.

  * * *

  It was mid-afternoon before they found anything of note. Mr. Bramwell had indeed stopped by the archives, but Nick had been at the inn picking up a midday meal for Miss Winston and him. While he was glad he had missed the man, he didn’t like thinking of the lecherous vicar alone with Miss Winston. He hoped she could leave the village soon and made a note to seek Ava’s assistance on the matter as soon as possible.

  “This is odd,” said Miss Winston, as she went back and forth between several pages. “There is mention of someone named R. who began making regular visits to the village every six weeks or so.”

  “What year?”

  “This is from 1810. There is no name, only the initial. So I do not know if this refers to a Christian name or the surname. Nor do I know where he was from. It only notes R’s first arrival in February of that year. But since that time, I have noted his appearance at a baptism for Gwen Archer and the wedding of Phineas Rogers.”

  “Archer? As in Mr. Jonas Archer?”

  “His brother’s family, but both Mr. Archer and Linus would have been there.”

  “Can we ask them who this R was?”

  She shook her head. “We must tread lightly, my lord. You have already raised enough suspicion simply by arriving in a fine carriage and spinning a Banbury tale about wanting to learn more about the sea. Asking about the attendance list at his nephew’s long ago wedding wouldn’t sit too well. You might find yourself learning more about cod and haddock from the ocean floor.”

  “Are you saying those men would kill me?”

  “No,” she said, carefully. “I have never known them to do violence. Bodies did occasionally wash up on shore during the war, but that was always thought to be the work of gangs further up the coast. I do not believe anyone in this village would do you harm. But that doesn’t mean others won’t find out.”

  “You were living here at the time of the wedding, were you not?”

  “Yes, but I was young. I cannot remember this R.”

  “But there would be others who might remember him.”