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Harriett opened her mouth to ask Miss Haversham what she thought only for her horrified gaze to be drawn to a large black carriage that rolled steadily down the street toward them. She sat frozen in place, her eyes locked on the sight of the coachman atop the huge monstrosity as it lumbered steadily past. He – or she – was dressed from head to foot in black, with a large black scarf wrapped around the face that was cast in shadow by a huge hat. The sight of him – or her - filled her with horror. It was the coach that had almost run her over last night.
“Now who on earth would want to go anywhere in that?” Miss Haversham snorted as she turned to see what Harriett was staring at.
Harriett visibly trembled and she sat still until the carriage had rolled out of view. As soon as it disappeared, she quickly made her apologies to Miss Haversham and hurried across the room. Fear pulled her in several different directions and she ignored at least two calls for assistance as she hurried into the back room of the tea shop. Once there, she leaned against the counter and took several deeply breaths as she willed her nerves to settle.
“Harriett, dear, whatever is the matter?” Babette’s beloved face swam into vision.
“I saw the carriage from last night,” Harriett whispered and lifted her gaze to Babette.
“Oh good Lord, let me send Bobby for the Constable.”
Harriett nodded jerkily. She wasn’t sure what Fred would be able to do, but she would feel a bit better with the visible presence of the village bobby nearby. If the coachman had any intention of returning for a second perusal, they would at least see the long arm of the law in the vicinity. It might just be enough to put them off doing anything rash; although what they could do with her tucked away into the relative safety of the tea shop, she wasn’t sure.
She stayed in the back room while Babette went to see to the customers and try to find Bobby. Completely oblivious to Harriett’s distress, Charles removed a hot pan of buns from the oven. It was all Harriett could do not to be sick.
Mark scowled down at the young boy and cursed. They had returned to Mr Montague’s haberdashery to inspect the contents of the kitchen a bit more closely when the young boy had slammed to a stop in the shop doorway, and began to babble away about a constable being needed at the tea shop quickly.
Mark’s long legs ate up the short distance in record time. He burst through the front door of the shop, quickly followed by Fred, the young lad and Isaac. They mumbled apologies to the customers as they wove around them on their way to the back room. The sight of her alive and well although scared swamped him with relief and, without uttering a word he stalked across the room and swept her into his arms.
“Thank God you are alright,” he whispered as he dropped random kisses into her hair.
“Lordy, that was quick,” Babette murmured wryly and shared a rueful glance with Isaac.
It took several moments for Mark to be able to loosen his hold.
“What happened? Are you hurt?”
Harriett shook her head and glanced around the room as though she wasn’t sure what to do. Charles was in the process of putting his jacket on. The baking had been finished for the day and he was off to the pub before tea, but even he paused hesitantly beside the back door, his face etched in concerned lines.
“I have been chatting to Miss Haversham and she has come up with something that I think you must know.” She glanced from Mark to Isaac and back to Mark again. She could have wept at the speed of his arrival and was very grateful that he had been so close. “I have also seen that black carriage again,” she whispered.
“When?” Mark demanded. His face was masked in a dark scowl.
“Just a few minutes ago. As soon as it disappeared from view I came in here and we sent Bobby to fetch a constable.”
“Which way did it go?”
Harriett explained what she had seen.
“Wait here,” Mark snapped and disappeared out of the back door with Isaac hot on his heels while Fred headed out of the front door.
“Well, I have heard of efficient policing, but those two certainly do take their job seriously, don’t they?” Babette murmured wryly.
A cough from behind them drew their attention and they both looked at Charles, who was clearly impatient to be on his way now that his work was done.
“Of course you can go,” Babette dismissed with an impatient sniff. The fact that there was no love lost between the couple was evident in everything they did. Harriett had wondered many times why they had ever married at all, but had never questioned Babette as to the nature of their relationship. She wasn’t sure
whether she would have liked the answer. Charles and Babette rubbed along reasonably well. Each lived their separate lives and, although their arrangement may suit them well enough, it was a far cry from what Harriett would consider a serious or normal relationship.
“I really don’t know why I bother with him sometimes,” Babette sighed quietly.
“Because divorce is a scandal that you cannot afford,” Harriett replied obliquely and lifted her brows at Babette’s snort.
Mark met with up with Isaac several minutes later. They were both breathing heavily as they met up with Fred, who shook his head in disgust. Together they all walked slowly back to the tea shop.
“I am going to take a look around the village and see if I can catch sight of it,” Fred muttered, and headed off with determined strides.
“I wonder what Miss Haversham has come up with,” Isaac gasped. Disappointment weighed heavily on him and he scoured every inch of the busy road they walked down for any sign of anyone even wearing black.
