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“You could just stop seeing him until Mark finishes his investigation. As soon as the killer is caught, the policemen will go back to Great Tipton and everything will quieten down in the village, you’ll see. You can then -”
Babette began to shake her head. “You know as well as I do that someone, at some point, will see me and there will be no explaining what I am doing. Everyone will know. It isn’t just my scandal and the tea-shop that will be damaged, it will b
e Andrew’s business as well.”
“I am sorry, Babette, I truly am.” Harriett didn’t know what else to say. “I can’t even begin to imagine the hurt you must be feeling. Being torn between family duty and your heart is an unbearable situation. I wish I could help you. I can only go on how I would feel if I had to watch Mark walk away.” She shook her head. “I think I would be just like you are now.” Her voice quivered with tears and as one, they moved away from the table and shared a hug.
“We are a right pair of water babies, aren’t we?” Babette sighed when they broke apart. “You love him, don’t you, Harriett?”
It was all Harriett could do to nod. Her feelings for Mark seemed to grow stronger every day, to the point now that she knew she would be devastated if she lost him. She couldn’t lose sight of the fact that out of the two of them, she was in a far better situation than Babette, because at least she could have the future with Mark that he had hinted at. For Babette, the possibility of a happy outcome was remote.
“I wish I could help you.”
“There is nothing you can do,” Babette assured her and wiped the tears off her face. “I shouldn’t have started this in the first place. It is now down to me to put a stop to it.”
“You are going to end it then?”
“I have to, don’t I?” At the door she paused and looked back at Harriett. “Mark knows doesn’t he?” She looked fearful.
Harriett hastened to reassure her. “He does. He saw you when he was watching for someone in the village. He told me, but I had already seen you on the night that Minerva died.” She knew from the realisation that dawned on Babette’s face that she knew what Harriett meant. “He suggested that I talk to you about it, although said he isn’t going to speak of it because it is a family matter. He is protecting us, Babette. He won’t gossip about it.”
“I like Mark. He is one in a million.” She pointed one long finger at her niece. “If you take one piece of advice from me? When a man like that loves you, don’t ever let him go.” Her voice choked and she remained quiet as she quickly left the house.
Harriett didn’t need to ask where she was headed. She knew that if she followed, Babette would lead her straight to Andrew’s house. There was very little that she could do to help Babette with her current problems except be there for her when she came home heartbroken. She settled down in the chair before the fire, wrinkled her nose at the rattle of the front door, and remained quiet as Charles let himself in and stomped up the stairs.
With a quick glance at the clock, she picked up her sewing and waited for Babette to return.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Harriett, you look exhausted. Why don’t you stop at home today?” Mark scowled at the dark circles beneath Harriett’s eyes and he knew that she had slept little, if at all. He glanced around the quiet house.
“I am alright,” Harriett whispered. In reality she was anything but alright. Babette had returned to the house about an hour after she had left, and had been distraught. Andrew had strenuously objected to Babette ending their association, and had done everything in his power to try to stop her. By the time she had managed to get back to 29 Daventry Street, she was barely coherent. Harriett had spent several hours listening to Babette weep while she recounted Andrew’s many strengths and very few weaknesses. By the time dawn had started to approach, Harriett had wanted Mark’s arms around her with a desperation that had very nearly sent her out into the middle of the night to knock on his door. She wondered if it was a family trait.
Despite having spent several hours crying with Babette, Harriett felt her chin wobble. She didn’t say anything, but then didn’t need to. Mark seemed to know what she wanted and swept her against him without a word.
“I am sorry,” she whispered in a voice that was soft and filled with sadness.
“I take it that you have spoken to her?” He was unsurprised when Harriett nodded miserably.
“She has broken things off, but is distraught. She really loves him.”
“Given how things have worked out with us, I can fully sympathise.” He tipped her chin up and wondered if she understood what he meant. “There is nothing worse than losing someone who holds your heart.”
Harriett nodded. “I know.” Her eyes met and held his. “He didn’t take it very well,” she swallowed and tried to keep the tears at bay. She had cried more in the last night than she had cried in all of her life. “He warned her that she had a fight on her hands.”
“We have to let them sort things out now. Babette is old enough to make her own decisions.”
“I know Mark, but I have never seen Babette cry as much as she did last night. I have never seen her like that. I managed to persuade her to go to bed at about four this morning, but she is devastated. I don’t think she slept much.”
“You didn’t either from the look of you.” He tenderly traced the darkness beneath her eyes with his fingertip and rested his head against hers. He couldn’t find the words to assure her that everything was going to be alright. In reality, he had no idea if they would be. “Why don’t you stop at home today? Do you have someone who covers for you in the tea shop if you have to go somewhere?”
Harriett nodded. “Celeste, from two doors down comes in and helps. She is the Calder’s eldest daughter.”
“Let me see if she is available to help out today. Try to get some sleep instead.”
Harriett was torn. There was nothing she wanted more than to be able to crawl back into bed and pull the covers up to her ears, but she also wanted to stay exactly where she was, wrapped in Mark’s loving arms. It was on the tip of her tongue to agree when loud thumps at the kitchen door shattered the silence.
“Andrew,” she whispered. She didn’t need to answer the door to know it was him. The persistent force of the knocks would have woken the dead. When Harriett made no move to answer, Mark slowly eased away and disappeared into the kitchen.
