Steadman placed both his hands on the countertop. “Third question. If I beat you to a senseless pulp, would the village even notice your absence?”
“No? I mean, yes?”
As he prepared to make good on his threat, fingers seized his elbow again. He glanced down to find Morgan’s imploring eyes. He leaned away from the countertop, oddly disconcerted by the look on Morgan’s face. By those large eyes. His partner flashed a bright smile at Mr. Jarvis.
“Sir. You appear to know nothing of importance whatsoever, and I believe your claim of absolute ignorance. Please pardon my associate. We will leave you to your duties. If you remember anything useful, will you be kind enough to notify us?”
Jarvis cast a frightened gaze between Steadman and Morgan. “Yes?”
“Is that a question?”
“Uh, no. Yes, I will notify you.”
“Very good, sir.” Morgan pulled Steadman away from the counter and out the door. He expelled a frustrated breath and glared at the lad.
“Did I not order you to let me do the talking?”
“You did.”
“And yet you did much of the talking.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
Morgan eyed Steadman as if his brain had leaked through his ears. “Does Wiltshire lie within Bow Street’s jurisdiction?”
He frowned and shook his head. “No.”
“And as it lies outside our jurisdiction, if we must make an arrest, who has the authority to serve the warrant?”
His frown deepened. “The local constable.”
“And he is?”
“Mr. Jarvis.”
Morgan slapped his shoulder. “There you have it. We will require his help later. If you pummel him senseless, he might be disinclined to offer it.”
Steadman dipped his chin. “Of course, you are correct, but for one detail.”
“And what is that?”
“Jarvis is lying through his teeth. He knows exactly what is happening and who is behind it. And he is frightened.”
“How do you know?”
Steadman began walking and Morgan hurried after him. “I have spent my adult life in the company of cheats, liars, and con men. I have learned to spot a false tale a mile away.”
With that, Morgan lapsed into a silence that persisted most of the journey to the inn.
***
Of all sudden moments, Morgan hated most the one when her chair would tip too far backward. The chair could not be escaped, the momentum could not be stopped, and the ending would prove painful. It only remained to determine how deep the impending injury would be. Steadman had just claimed theability to spot all liars, and Morgan believed him. Her chair had just tipped past the point of no return.
While riding with Steadman toward the inn, she spun dire scenarios and otherwise fretted. What would Steadman do when he finally saw through her lie? What could she say in her defense? Did it matter? With some dismay, she realized that she cared deeply how the chair would land. Though having known Steadman for only two days, she wanted him to continue liking her. Anything more was pure fairy tale. His disregard, however, would leave a painful and lasting mark.
“I suppose I should thank you now.”
