Page 12 of A Taste of Miss Honey

Izzy regarded Captain Underwood with interest, for she very much wanted to hear the answer to that question too.

To his credit, the captain only hesitated for a moment before he answered. “No, he did not,” he admitted with a sigh.

Her father nodded, apparently unsurprised by this intelligence. “No, because your men were doing their duty as they saw it.”

“He shot Silas Mourney dead,” the captain retorted, looking rather irritated now. “Boreas is no angel, sir.”

“Did he? Did he indeed? Well, whatever a violent gang leader was doing in Winsham Woods last night can only be guessed at, but I suspect Boreas believes if one lives by the sword, one is liable to die by the sword.”

Izzy suppressed a shiver, well able to hear Boreas saying such a thing and believing it too.

“You seem to know a good deal about him, Reverend.” Captain Underwood gave her father a pointed look over the rim of his teacup.

Papa shrugged, absently stirring his tea, though she had prepared it to his liking. “Oh, well, I am God’s ear in a small town. There is little that is said that does not find its way to me, in time.”

“Indeed. Well, I should be glad if that information came to my ear next,” the captain replied, a little terse now.

“Naturally you would,” the reverend replied placidly. “Though I can tell you no more about Boreas, certainly not of any more violence he or his men have committed. Indeed, the only violence I know of has been to defend their interests from rival gangs who have no such compunction. Oh, well, and that nasty incident at Cuckmere Haven last week, of course, but that had nothing to do with Boreas and his men.”

Underwood nodded, and Izzy saw sorrow in his eyes, frustration too, if she knew anything. “I knew William, he was a brave man and did not deserve to die so brutally. I want nothing more than to see the men responsible stand trial for their crimes.”

“Then perhaps you would do well to turn your attention towards them rather than a man who makes a point of not using violence against innocent people, or men who are just doing their job,” Izzy remarked, her tone a touch sharper than she had intended.

Underwood’s expression became troubled. “Would that I could.”

Her father frowned, leaning forward across his desk. “You cannot?”

They watched the captain, who seemed to struggle to decide what to say. “My orders are to bring Boreas in and to ignore all else until he is in custody,” he admitted, the frustration in his voice evident. “And whilst I waste my time chasing a damned shadow, crimes such as the one at Cuckmere Haven are passed over.”

“But that is madness!” Izzy exclaimed.

Underwood returned a cynical smile. “Indeed, and so it seems to a dull-witted fellow like me, but such is the chain of command, Miss Honeywell. My orders are clear, and I have no option but to follow them.”

The Vicarage Attic, Little Valentine, 22nd January 1816

Though his hand did not feel entirely steady, Ben’s fingers tightened around the pistol as he heard the door to the attic open. Not that he had strength enough to do a damned thing if it was Underwood and his men. He didn’t even have the strength to stand, let alone run.

“It’s me.”

His frayed nerves, which had been on edge for hours, found solace in the young woman’s gentle tone. He’d heard the front door open and close a long while ago, and felt fairly sure Underwood had gone, but he’d not dared relax until he was certain.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve not been able to come until now, I’ve brought you…”

Her head appeared at the top of the stairs, her sweet voice low and easy, but she froze when she saw him. Damn, he must present a pretty picture to make her look so appalled.

“You’re ill.”

She set down the items she’d brought and hurried to his side, placing her hand on his head. Ben groaned and closed his eyes, for her touch was blessedly cool.

“You’ve got a fever.”

It was nothing he didn’t know, obviously, and her voice was calm, but he knew as well as she did what it meant, and how serious it was likely to be.

“I ought to have come earlier to change the dressing. I knew it, but Captain Underwood was here and I… I didn’t dare.”

The words trembled with guilt, with anxiety, and Ben reached for her hand.

“This is none of your doing. You did right to stay clear. I’m sorry to cause you such worry. I think the best thing is if I leave now, before things get worse.”