Page 34 of To Seduce a Stranger

When she had gone, Mari sighed. “I never thought my coming here would cause Mr. Edward trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“You saw how the girl looked at me. She is afraid, both of what she does not know, and what she imagines she does. The people here have already made assumptions about the kind of man Mr. Edward must be, based on where he has been. The presence of an African woman, a former slave, only adds fuel to the flames.”

Charlotte thought of Garrick’s accusations, even her own uncertainty about the nature of the relationship between Mari and Edward. “You may be right.” With a nod of conviction, she went to the door. “Peg! Come back here, if you please.” After a moment, the girl sidled into the house. “We’ve a great deal of work to do. Could you be persuaded to come back tomorrow with more cleaning supplies and help us put them to use?” Charlotte asked her. “If Mrs. Eakins can spare you, of course.”

Peg gave another wide-eyed stare, then a sharp nod. “She sometimes gives me leave t’ do aught for Tessie. Don’ guess but this’d be the same.”

“Tessie?”

Both Charlotte and Mr. Markham spoke the name, with differing degrees of surprise.

“Aye,” said Peg, casting a bewildered look at each of them in turn.

“Who’s Tessie?” asked Mari.

“An odd old woman who took up residence long ago in a cottage on the edge of the estate,” said Markham. “A trespasser. I’ve been meaning to speak with Mr. Cary about her.”

“I already have,” Charlotte lied. She could not bear to think of the poor woman turned out of her makeshift little home. “He said she wasn’t doing any harm.” Markham looked skeptical but said nothing more. “But who is she?”

It was Peg’s turn to chime in. “Ain’ nobody knows for sure. Widow Eakins says Tessie jus’ showed up one day, ’bout the time everybody else were leavin’. ’Cause of the smallpox,” she added by way of explanation.

So for twenty years, the woman had simply existed on the fringe of Little Norbury, no questions asked? Charlotte knew enough about village gossip to guess that wasn’t the whole truth. “Hasn’t she any family?”

Peg shrugged. “So far as I ever heard, don’ nobody even know her name.”

“What’s ‘Tessie,’ then?”

“A sort of . . . joke, I suppose you’d call it,” Markham explained, looking sheepish. “I was only a child then, so I don’t remember it, but my pa told me that when she first came, the people who tried to help her thought she put on airs, despite having almost nothing to her name. Said she acted more high and mighty than the Countess of Beckley herself, God rest her soul. So for a time, people called her Countess, and eventually . . .”

“It was shortened to Tessie.” Charlotte could not help but think of Edward’s refusal to tolerate nicknames. Most people, she supposed, thought of them as signs of affection. But as she well knew, and Edward seemed to understand, they could also be marks of disrespect, weapons in a cruel war to keep people in their places.

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but I have to get back. Widow Eakins’ll be wonderin’ what’s become o’ me.” With a quick curtsy, Peg slipped past Markham and out the door again.

Retrieving his hat from Mari’s outstretched hand, Markham studied its condition before opting not to return it to his head. “I’ll say good day as well, Mrs. Cary. Miss Harper,” he said, with a bow for each of them.

“Thank you for the hatchlings, Mr. Markham,” Mari said.

“It’s nothing.”

Charlotte suspected it might have been the first untruth that had ever passed the farmer’s lips, given the color that sprang into his cheeks when he spoke. A dozen chicks, which would grow into laying hens and cockerels to be eaten, were no small gift, even in the best of times. And these were hardly the best of times.

Once he had closed the door behind him, Mari turned toward Charlotte. “Why did you ask the girl to come back?”

“Widow Eakins would appear to be none too generous. The girl looked as if she could use a few pennies in her pocket,” she said, realizing belatedly that if she intended to pay the girl for her work, she would have to beg the money of Edward first. “Or at least a few meals in her belly.”

“But the gossip—! She’ll be only too glad to tell every soul that enters the Rose and Raven about me, the state of this house, anything that pops into her head.”

“I know.” Charlotte bent over the chicks, touching each soft, sunny head. When she at last straightened, she met Mari’s eye. “I’m counting on it. If the villagers hear that Mr. Cary is bent on improving this place, it will only be to his credit, no matter the source of the information. Peg Eakins can help us persuade the people of Little Norbury that he is a steady and thoughtful man from whom they have nothing to fear.”

Mari considered the explanation, then nodded. “You may be right,” she agreed, somewhat reluctantly, as she began to busy herself with preparations for dinner. After a moment, she added, “I’ll help, too. With the cleaning, I mean.”

Charlotte, who had begun to set the table, nearly dropped a plate when she heard the unexpected offer of assistance. “Why, thank you, Mari.”

The woman gave a curt nod. “With those soft hands of yours, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

Chapter 9