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“Tabitha has a gift for it,” Felicity said. “Lowell says it is quite uncommon.”
“Speaking of uncommon gifts, my brother’s is equal to that of Mr. Bates. When he seeks knowledge, it does not elude him for long.” Once asking for help began, it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “If I may borrow some footmen, Felicity? Timothy will set them on the scent of Asquith’s antecedents and see what that reveals.”
They watched as Mr. Beckett-the-Publican ushered the lady author into the building. Mr. Beckett-the-Suitor gave Tabitha a little wave.
“I do not like her staying there,” Felicity said. “Or anywhere near us.”
“I shall warn Mr. Beckett and ask him to spread word amongst those in the village to be on their guard,” Tabitha said. “Let us tell our—well, you tell your dukes and I, I shall—”
“You shall tell yours.” Felicity grinned.
“Oh dear, I am quite behind the times.” Beatrice attempted to look innocent and failed utterly. “Have you a Grace to call your own, Tabitha?”
“He is notmyGrace.”
“Such protestations are familiar to me,” Felicity mused. “And I daresay Mr. Shakespeare had words to say about a lady doing too much of that.” With that, she and Beatrice flounced away.
“Perhaps you ought to retire from duchessing and take to the stage yourself!” Tabitha called.
One final glance around the village green revealed Asquith was not wandering at will; Tabitha strolled through the inn’s forecourt and peeked around the corner into the stable yard. The bear’s lead was tied to a post while Mr. Quincy mucked out her stall.
Tabitha looked at the bear, and the bear…looked back.
She took a step forward—and Mr. Quincy did not hesitate to put himself between her and his charge. “Sorry, my lady, but she’s had enough excitement for one day.”
“It ismiss, notmy lady.” But why should he know that? “I am Miss Barrington and would like to discuss a matter with you and your company tomorrow. Shall we say midday? It would be my pleasure to give you lunch.”
As she suspected, no actor worth his salt passed up a free meal. “Thank you, miss, we would be delighted.” He winked and flexed his biceps, as unthinkingly as anyone else would blink.
“Until then,” she said. He bowed; she nodded and turned to leave. As she did, the bear peeked around his back andlookedat her. At a loss, Tabitha waved, and she swore the creature rolled its eyes and sighed.
Sixteen
Lost in thought over the bear, and suspecting the worst, Tabitha wandered back to the cottage—back home. She ought to be thinking of it as home by now.Home,she thought as she stood in the dooryard…it did not resonate.
Inside, a note from Timothy informed her he had gone in search of the gossip around what had transpired in the village, with a pointed reference to another gift on their doorstep which he had laid on her pillow.
It was a hair ribbon, a hue of mustard that did not look pretty, but once she held it up to her hair, it glowed like gold. So ladies did wear things that matched their hair…or rather brought out the best in both the hair and the ribbon. Another feminine thing she did not know.
What was feminine? She could not accept it had only to do with ribbons and frocks. Some of the fiercest women she had ever met had been about the work of childbed, as dauntless in their mission to bring forth life as any man on a battlefield was to end it. Added to that, the other women in the room doing everything required in support of the imminent mother—nations of the world wished they could inspire that kind of unity.
The turmoil in her head was not helped by the stuffiness in the room; throwing open the curtains revealed Llewellyn below. She raised the sash and leaned on the sill.
“What light, et cetera.” He did not continue and shrugged.
“Not the aficionado of the theater that Osborn is?” He didn’t quite smile, but his face threatened one, revealing crinkles at his eyes that were a dastardly accompaniment to those lashes. While she was not the devotee of dimples her brother was, Llewellyn had creases alongside his mouth that were far more appealing. No callow youth, he. “We are to be givenHamlet, notRomeo and Juliet.”
“I dislike that play.”
“As do I!” Tabitha leaned forward precipitously, and he was at the side of the house in a heartbeat.
“I find that surprising given your penchant for poisons.” Laughter helped settle her mind and was like the breath of fresh air she was taking. “The ribbon looks well in your hair,” he said.
It was all she could do not to fuss with it. “I do not often wear ribbons.”
“They are pretty and serve a purpose.” He leaned a hip against the low wall behind the kitchen lean-to.
“Pretty is nothing in comparison to elegant and fashionable and…” She trailed off and received the familiar scowl in response to her unfinished thought. “Nothing. Thank you. Though I cannot imagine what you were thinking.”
