Caroline settled into a pew near the rear of the church and listened as the vicar spoke about her father-in-law as a charitable, God-fearing man. She struggled to picture the man depicted with the tyrant who had inflicted such damage on her. If Mr. Harding had been more generous, she and her family would never had ended up in the clutches of Captain Grafton.
She hadn’t seen Captain Grafton since he’d staggered out of her bedroom two weeks ago, thanked her for her help and left without another word. According to gossip, he’d left Millcastle and returned to London, leaving Mr. O’Brien to manage his affairs. She had heard nothing more about the fate of Three Coins, and the town had calmed down again. She’d developed a cordial relationship with Mr. O’Brien, but she hadn’t asked him for any information about her employer or attempted to contact him.
Which was why she’d ended up attending the delayed funeral of a man she’d detested. She needed some distraction from her own thoughts about the infuriating nature of one Captain Francis Grafton, Viscount. Apparently, the gravediggers had been unable to penetrate the ground due to the hard frost, which meant that several burials had been delayed including her father-in-law’s.
Despite the vicar’s claims of Mr. Harding’s warm and caring nature, there were very few people present at his funeral. She recognized his widow and daughter at the front of the pew, and some of the town’s businessmen but that was it.
When the coffin proceeded down the aisle toward the hearse outside, Caroline stood and lowered her veil over her face. She waited until everyone left before she stepped out of her pew. Unfortunately, when she reached the church door, Miss Rebecca Harding was waiting for her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Harding, Caroline. Perhaps you would care to accompany my mother and I back to the house while the men attend the burial.”
“As you wish.” Caroline allowed herself to be tenderly assisted into the family carriage by a footman. After years of taking care of herself she’d almost forgotten how it felt to be treated like a precious object.
When they reached the house, she followed Mrs. Harding and Rebecca into the spacious drawing room on the ground floor where a sumptuous buffet had been laid out on the long dining room table.
“Would you care for some tea, Mrs. Harding?” Rebecca inquired. “I doubt they will linger at the cemetery for long in this weather. We will speak to our solicitor after the guests have departed.”
Caroline drew back her veil and took off her gloves but kept everything else with her. She still hadn’t decided whether she would be able to play her part in this particular charade and wanted the means to escape without calling attention to herself.
She took some time exploring the drawing room, pausing at the portrait of her late husband Nigel as a child in a sailor suit. Even though his father had opposed his wishes, he’d always wanted to join the Royal Navy, and had eventually got his way, only to die fairly soon afterward. His father had blamed that tragedy on Caroline as well, but she wasn’t sure why.
The sound of male voices in the hallway drew her attention back to the present, and she braced herself for the ordeal to come. She would channel some of her employer’s arrogance and not pretend she was anything other than herself. Several of the men had business dealings with Captain Grafton, so she knew more about them and their finances than they would ever realize. That knowledge helped her raise her chin and refuse to be cowed.
An hour or so later, Caroline had a headache and a stiff neck, but she was proud of herself. Neither the blatant curiosity nor rudeness of the other guests had bothered her. Her late husband’s family’s ability to pretend she had not existed until the moment she popped up in their drawing room to be grudgingly acknowledged was quite remarkable.
“Mrs. Harding?” Rebecca came to find her. “Please follow me.”
She went into what must have been Mr. Harding’s study and took the offered seat. It still smelled of tobacco, newspaper print, and wet dog. The solicitor waited until everyone was seated before putting on his spectacles and picking up the will with its official seals dangling from it.
Having developed a keen interest in finance since her fall from grace, Caroline listened intently as each bequest was read out and idly calculated her father-in-law’s worth. He’d claimed to be barely surviving when Caroline had approached him, but that didn’t seem to be the case at all.
“And finally, before we get to the accommodations made for Mrs. Miranda Harding and her daughter Rebecca, we shall turn to the subject of the late Mr. Nigel Harding.”
Caroline sat up straight.
“There appears to have been some… misunderstanding about the contents both of Mr. Nigel Harding’s will, and that of his maternal grandmother’s who left the bulk of her estate directly to him.”
“Misunderstanding?” Caroline spoke up.
“As in that monies that should have come to you, Mrs. Caroline Harding, were inadvertently kept by Mr. Harding’s estate.”
“Mr. Harding informed me that my husband’s will made no mention of a wife. He attempted to claim that my marriage was invalid despite evidence to the contrary.” Caroline raised her eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that he deliberately deceived me?”
“Oh, hardly that,” the solicitor rushed to reassure her, but Caroline remained unmoved. “It was merely a trifling detail that somehow escaped him.”
“A detail that left me, my mother and my sisters with no money and nowhere to live.” Caroline stared at the solicitor and rose to her feet. “Perhaps we might discuss this matter more privately before I make certain that any future legal matters concerning myself are removed from your jurisdiction.”
The solicitor stood too, his face flushed. “I quite understand, Mrs. Harding.” He handed her an envelope. “The details of your inheritance are in here as is my card. Please do come and visit our offices at your earliest convenience.”
“Thank you.”
After a brisk curtsy to the Harding ladies, Caroline left the house. She reckoned it was less than a mile to walk back to town and decided the time to reflect on what had just occurred would be beneficial to her somewhat ruffled temper.
She’d barely reached the end of the drive before curiosity overcame her and she opened the envelope. Five minutes after that she slowly read the letter for a second time. If the information were accurate, she would never have to worry financially again.
Tears filled her eyes as she folded the letter and put it back in her reticule. She could buy a small house in town—or they could move away completely and live off the income the trust would provide. She would be free for the first time in her life…
It started to rain, and she increased her pace, glad that she had remembered her umbrella. She would go to the solicitors’ office in town tomorrow and make absolutely certain that she understood the terms of the bequests and what her annual income would look like. After that, she would break the news to her mother and sisters—and make it clear that her mother could never touch the capital and beggar them again.
They certainly wouldn’t be rich, but they would live well enough. She came to a halt. If Mr. Harding had done the decent thing and given her access to her husband’s finances right from the start, she would never have learned how it was to be poor or how much of a fighter she was. She would never have encountered Captain Grafton.
But that wasn’t quite true was it? She might have met him at the Hardings, or at a ball, or dinner party. What would he have thought of her then? She doubted she would’ve merited a moment of his fastidious attention. She hadn’t known herself back then, hadn’t survived the worst that life could throw at her. When they had met, during one of the worst moments of her life, he’d recognized that fight in her, challenged her, and made her earn his respect.
She started walking again.
By the time Captain Grafton returned to Millcastle, she might be gone.
She’d never get the satisfaction of telling him what had happened to his face. The thought that she could now throw his offer on employment back at him was surprisingly unsatisfying. He’d probably laugh, be immensely proud of her, and then attempt to persuade her to invest her capital in one of his many financial schemes. Mayhap she could write him a letter, but it wouldn’t be the same.
The rain drummed harder on her umbrella as she skirted a large puddle. There was much to think about and many decisions to make. But until then she would hold the news close to her chest and enjoy it.
“This will do very nicely for us I think.” Caroline walked over to the window and studied the small front garden of the property. “I believe I can buy it outright from the interest accumulated in the investments.”
She turned to her new solicitor Mr. Melksham who nodded.
“Indeed you can, Mrs. Harding, and seeing as this house is quite close to the town square when the railway opens it will surely rise in value.”
He turned to the door and waited for her to precede him down the corridor. “On this floor you also have a dining room, a parlor, a study and a large kitchen with a new stove. Below there are cellars and above, four bedrooms, and two attic rooms.”
“I think I will employ a full-time cook and a housemaid.” Caroline almost sighed with pleasure at the very thought of it. “Perhaps you might help me find some trustworthy persons?”
“Of course, Mrs. Harding.” He paused. “I understand that the current owner has no wish to take the larger pieces of furniture with him, so you might be able to negotiate a deal on them if you like.”
“What an excellent suggestion.”
Caroline liked the way her new solicitor didn’t treat her like an ignoramus. He’d listened to her ideas about how she wished to manage her inheritance, and introduced her to the manager of a new bank just setting up in Millcastle. Evidently, being a widow of means was far preferable to being a wife, or an employee of anyone. Both men had understood her concerns about not allowing her mother access to any of the funds without Caroline’s express approval. She had no intention of allowing Marie to bankrupt them twice, and hadn’t even disclosed the exact sum of her inheritance to her mother.
Having the ability to purchase her own house and fill it with everything she desired felt like a dream. Even though all the formalities had been settled weeks ago, and the money was safely secured in her new bank account, she still woke up in a panic, and had to remind herself that no one could take it away from her again. Sometimes in the darkness she also wished for the comfort of Captain Grafton’s arms around her, but she tried not to dwell on that too much. It made her heart ache. He had left her, and she simply had to find a way to go on without his advice, encouragement, or outright goading.
She took a deep breath and faced Mr. Melksham. “Shall we put in our offer?”
“I think that would be an excellent idea, Mrs. Harding.” Her solicitor smiled at her. “I will prepare the paperwork, and let you know the outcome of our bid as soon as possible.”
She handed back the keys, and walked across the square to inform her family that if all went well they would soon be moving into their own house. If her offer was successful, and she calculated that it would be, she would give Mr. O’Brien a month’s notice in writing, and take her time moving their possessions over to the new place. If she were discreet, perhaps he would not bother to inform their employer that she was leaving.
Caroline paused before she entered the shop. What would she do if Captain Grafton were informed that she no longer wished to live in the apartment? Would he care? Would he try and stop her? After three months of silence she had to doubt that he would. She reminded herself that it didn’t matter anyway, but it was hard to pretend that she could simply stop caring for him. She’d never met a man quite like Captain Francis Grafton, and she doubted she ever would again.
“Have you heard from Captain Grafton, Caroline?” Ruby asked as she handed her sister a cup of tea.
“No, I haven’t.” Caroline sipped her tea and kept her gaze on the list she was writing. She’d been home for three hours, and was still waiting for her mother to come home so she could share her news with everyone at once. “If Captain Grafton has anything he wishes to say to me I’m sure he’ll find a way to communicate his orders through Mr. O’Brien.”
Ruby shared a glance with Jon who had joined them for dinner. “I wanted to share some news with him.”
“You did?” Caroline put down her cup. “About what?”
Ruby pulled a face. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?” She glanced over at Jon. “Does this concern you as well?”
“In a way,” he smiled at her. “But probably not how you think.”
Caroline attempted to quell her growing curiosity and merely sniffed. “If you really wish to contact Captain Grafton, write him a letter and ask Mr. O’Brien to send it on for you.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t written to you himself, Caroline,” Jon mused.
“Why? Surely you know we were at odds when he left.” She tried to smile. “He thinks I betrayed him by telling you about the plan to sell Three Coins to the locomotive company.”
“You didn’t tell me anything.” Jon looked up.
“Well, we both know that, but he chose not to believe me, and if there is one thing Captain Grafton values it is loyalty.”
“But you were loyal to him because you didn’t tell me you knew about the deal,” Jon repeated. “Perhaps I’ll write and tell him that.”
“Please don’t’” Caroline said. “If he chooses to run away to London to avoid any unpleasantness in Millcastle then good riddance to him.”
“I thought you liked him, Caroline,” Ivy offered quietly. “And he definitely was very fond of you.”
“He was not. He simply valued my bookkeeping skills,” Caroline said. Ruby laughed out loud, and Caroline scowled at her. “Perhaps we could get back to your original request to contact Captain Grafton. What do you need to tell him?”
Jon, who had been watching her intently, turned to Ruby. “Tell her, lass.”
“But I promised you—”
“Tell her. I think she deserves to know, don’t you?”
“Deserves to know what?” Caroline asked suspiciously.
“Do you remember that the day after the meeting and the so-called riot, a lot of the men were arrested and tried at the gaol?” Ruby asked.
“Yes, of course I remember,” Caroline nodded. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
Jon took Ruby’s hand. “I was arrested.”
“I know,” Caroline said. “Ruby told me you had been released with no charges.”
“And how do you think that happened?”
“Because you were innocent?” Caroline shrugged. “That is usually how justice works.”
“Not for people like us, lass. Captain Grafton came to court and spoke up for me.” Jon held her gaze. “He testified that I’d saved his life and walked him home to his office, so I could not have been involved in any of the violence that followed.”
Caroline slowly closed her mouth and found she had no words. Was that why he’d left with Ruby with hardly a word after she’d tended to his wounds? To speak up on behalf of a man he resented because Caroline still cared for him? Captain Grafton really shouldn’t have been out of bed.
“It was something of a sight to see. Your Captain Grafton threw his rank around, and Sir Ian caved like the lickspittle he is,” Jon continued “And the captain also offered to pay the fines of any men who were convicted of rioting.”
“Why?” Caroline searched Jon’s face.
“That’s exactly what I asked him.” He smiled. “He said that as he started the riot by walking into the hall in the first place, he was responsible for everything that happened afterward.”
She pictured him saying it and found it all too likely. She swallowed hard. “I suppose I should be the one writing a letter and thanking him.”
“For what?” Ruby demanded. “He doesn’t deserve anything!”
“For saving my friend,” Caroline said. “As I said, despite everything, Captain Grafton does value loyalty.” Her voice trembled. “It is a shame that he could never see it in me.”
She gulped for breath and then suddenly it was all too much, the holding it in, the missing him, the wanting… She cried until Ivy came around the table to give her a hug, and Jon handed her his big handkerchief to blow her nose.
“I’m sorry,” Caroline whispered. “I don’t know why I’m crying, and I still don’t know why you need to contact him.”
“The workers committee wishes to express their thanks, and some of the men want to know if they can repay their debts,” Ruby said. “I was asked to write the letter because of my acquaintance with him.”
“Then you should really talk to Mr. O’Brien—although I suspect the thought of being thanked for anything would make Captain Grafton recoil in horror.” In a frantic effort to pretend that everything was all right. Caroline scrubbed away her tears
“He certainly prefers to be seen as a more fearsome creature.” Jon’s smile died. “There is something else. The eviction notices for Three Dials have started to go out.”
Caroline sighed. “Yes, Mr. O’Brien told me that would soon be happening. Are you hoping to appeal to Captain Grafton’s better nature to make him stop?”
“Isn’t it worth a try?” Jon asked. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“The railway contract has been signed, and the Act of Parliament is imminent. I don’t think he is going to change his mind on this one.”
“But we’ll try regardless, lass, aye?” Jon patted her shoulder as he stood up. “Thank you for dinner. Don’t get up. Ruby’s going to walk me down the stairs.”
“I thought you weren’t coming back.” Nancy placed a bowl of bread rolls on the table beside Francis who pretended not to hear her. “I thought you said you were done with this place.”
“I am.” Francis grabbed a roll and split it open with his fingers before dunking it into his lamb stew. It was just past noon, he’d ridden up from London overnight, and he was in no mood for an inquisition.
Nancy sat down opposite him, her chin propped up on her hand, and observed him. “But you’re here at my table, eating my good food, so what made you return to the town you loathe?” She chuckled. “Not that you need to tell me. I have a fair idea what’s brought you back with your tail between your legs.”
“My tail has nothing to do with it,” Francis muttered as he chewed on the bread.
“Your prick then?” She nodded as if she found the whole idea highly amusing. “You can’t keep away from her, can you?”
He finally looked up. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Matters appertaining to the locomotive company have proceeded faster than I anticipated, and I need to speak to Mr. Fletcher at his earliest convenience.”
“Using fancy words doesn’t change anything.” Nancy stood and wiped her hands on her apron. “Whatever you do, don’t venture into Three Coins, will you?”
Francis snorted. “Don’t worry, I have no desire to forfeit my life.” He finished his stew and wiped the bowl with another piece of bread. “Is Mr. O’Brien here?”
“He’s moved over to your office above the dressmakers.”
“When did he do that?” Francis frowned as he pushed the bowl away. “I certainly didn’t give him permission.”
“Maybe he likes being close to Mrs. Harding.” Nancy winked at him. “Maybe someone had better get over there and stake his claim before it’s too late.”
“Stake my claim? What in God’s name are you talking about now, woman?”
“Your Mrs. Harding.”
He met her amused gaze. “She certainly isn’t mine, but I cannot imagine her falling into the arms of Daniel O’Brien. She’d scare him to death.”
Nancy tutted and shook her head. “Jealousy is a terrible thing.”
Francis didn’t even attempt to reply to that outrageous comment, mainly because she knew him too well and regrettably it was too close to the mark.
“I’m not talking about Mr. O’Brien.” Nancy gathered his bowl and spoon onto the tray. “I’ve heard rumors that Mrs. Harding is leaving Millcastle.”
Francis went still. “And going where exactly?”
Nancy shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her yourself, won’t you?”
After bathing and changing his clothes, Francis walked across the square to the rear of the dressmakers and used his key to enter the building and climb the stairs to his offices. He paused at the top landing, aware of the unusual silence. Was Nancy right? Had Caroline and her family left their lodgings?
“Captain Grafton!” He looked around to see Daniel O’Brien beaming at him from the door of his office. “I wasn’t expecting you, sir.”
“Obviously,” Francis murmured as he went into the familiar room. “When did you decide to take possession of my office?”
“Well, sir, the inn wasn’t the best place for receiving new clients. Some of them refused to even enter an establishment where spirits were served.”
“Bloody Methodists.” Francis sat down in his chair. “I need to speak to Mr. Fletcher. Can you arrange that?”
“Yes, Captain Grafton.” His agent picked up his hat. “I’ll go and attend to the matter right now.
“Before you go, Mr. O’Brien. Where is Mrs. Harding?”
“I believe she is speaking to her new solicitor, sir. She’ll be back shortly.”
“What solicitor?” Francis asked the empty office as Mr. O’Brien disappeared. “What the devil has been going on since I left?”
“I’m back, Mr. O’Brien. Did anyone wish to speak to me while I was gone?” Caroline attempted to untie a knot in the ribbon of her new bonnet as she went into Mr. O’Brien’s office. When she finally succeeded in pulling it free she glanced over at the desk and froze.
“Captain Grafton!”
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her. “You look very nice. Did I suddenly increase your wages?”
“Not that I am aware of.” She fought down the urge to bolt and faced him, drinking in the signs of tiredness under his eyes, and the rigid set of his unshaven jaw. Had he come back to her? A flicker of hope stirred low in her stomach.
“Then why all this new finery?” he asked.
“I don’t believe my wardrobe choices have anything to do with you, Captain Grafton.” She smiled even though it made her heart hurt. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes. Mrs. Bridgewater informs me that you are leaving Millcastle.”
“And again, I would remind you that my personal decisions have nothing to do with you.”
“I employ you.” He pointed out. “Surely you should’ve informed me if you were planning on leaving—or were you too busy skimming excess funds off my books to buy pretty new bonnets?”
“I have never cheated you.” She gestured at her office across the corridor. “Please feel free to check my accounting at your leisure!”
“I will, thank you.” He considered her, one finger tapping out an impatient rhythm on the arm of his chair. “What is going on?”
She opened her mouth to offer him the same tart answer, and he held up his hand.
“Don’t play games, Mrs. Harding. Tell me the truth.”
“The truth? When you won’t believe me anyway and have just accused me of attempting to cheat you?” Caroline took a step toward him, her faint hope of a passionate reunion turning to ashes. “Perhaps I will answer your questions if you answer one of mine.”
“Ask away.” He shrugged. “Unlike you, I have nothing to hide.”
“Then why did you come back? You said you wouldn’t return to Millcastle in the foreseeable future, and yet here you are.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I came to see Mr. Fletcher.”
“To order him to speed up the evictions?” Caroline asked. He didn’t want her-didn’t care what happened to her. She summoned her anger to dash every thought that he might have cared for her from her mind. “Everyone in Three Coins is waiting on that order. How do you intend to enforce it? Call out the militia and drag people out of their homes?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “You should know me better than that.”
“I thought I did. You delight in proving me wrong.” She curtsied. “Now I have work to do. Please excuse me.”
She was at the door before he spoke again. “I’m not finished.”
“Well, I am.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Loyalty goes both ways, Captain Grafton. You demand it and offer nothing in return. My resignation letter will be on your desk by this evening.”
She walked out, shutting the door carefully behind her. After a moment’s indecision, she went down the stairs, out into the square, and gulped in some air. She couldn’t stand to see him smile at her because, despite everything, she wanted to share her news, watch his reaction and celebrate with him. He was the only person alive who would really appreciate her good fortune, and she could no longer reach him behind that wall of pride and arrogance. How could she possibly stay in Millcastle if he was determined to remain there when she was so drawn to him?
She was a fool, but Captain Grafton didn’t need to know that. After a quick glance around, she headed toward Three Coins. She had business there, and she reckoned that it was the one place Captain Grafton would never set foot.
Francis stared at the closed door.
“That went well.”
He spoke into the silence. Why in God’s name had he allowed her to drag him into a pointless argument about her clothing and the railway rather than simply tell her the truth? That he’d come back to Millcastle because of her? Nancy damn well knew it. Why didn’t Caroline?
“Because you are afraid to tell her.” His words sounded even worse when said aloud. “For the first time in your life, you are being a complete coward over one woman’s opinion of you.”
A knock on the door had him straightening up. Had she returned to berate him further? Maybe fate was offering him a second chance. “Come in.”
His agent came in accompanied by Mr. Fletcher.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Francis gestured at the chairs. “Please sit down. I understand that things have progressed rather more quickly than we were anticipating.”
“Indeed, Captain.” Mr. Fletcher sat forward. “We have our initial financing in place, and permission to proceed from the government. We’d like to break ground as soon as possible.”
Mr. O’Brien cleared his throat. “There is just the slight problem of the tenants in Three Coins. Almost all of them are still in place claiming they have nowhere else to go.”
“They don’t,” Francis said shortly. “Who sent the eviction notices out?”
“I told Mr. O’Brien to do that, Captain,” Mr. Fletcher spoke up.
“You should have consulted me first.” Francis said. “That was our agreement.”
“With all due respect, you were not here, Captain, and my board wished to proceed as quickly as possible.”
“Then seeing as you have already reneged on the terms of our agreement should I consider it broken?” Francis studied Mr. Fletcher, who visibly paled. “Perhaps the only solution is to take you to court and sue for the return of the land I sold to you under certain very specific, reciprocal, conditions.”
“Captain Grafton, there is no need to take things that far,” Mr. Fletcher protested. “We intend to honor all of our commitments to you.”
“Then perhaps you should reread the agreement and start construction where I asked you to.” Francis stood up. “Until you can offer me an affirmative answer on that question, Mr. Fletcher, I will be consulting my solicitor. Good afternoon.”
Mr. Fletcher left in some haste. Mr. O’Brien closed the door behind him and faced Francis.
“I told him you wouldn’t like it.”
“I know and I’m glad you wrote to tell me what was going on.” Francis grimaced. “And now I’ll have to deal with Three Coins again. Hopefully this time I can emerge unscathed.”
“I’m coming back with you.” Jon put on his hat and coat. He’d just returned from attending chapel with his mother and was dressed in his finest. “If Captain Grafton is here, he needs to listen to what I have to say.”
“He does not have to listen to anything!” Caroline almost stamped her foot in frustration. “If you will just wait. I’ll set up a proper meeting between you, the rest of the workers committee, and Captain Grafton. There’s no need to provoke him when he’s already in the most unpleasant mood.”
Jon glanced down at her as he opened the door and stepped into the street outside his mother’s house. “You don’t have to come with me.”
“You know I do,” Caroline grumbled as she walked alongside him. “I was going to suggest he offer you my job, and this won’t endear you to him.”
“That’s very kind of you, lass.” He sighed. “Because of my involvement with the unions and the Methodist Church I suspect my days at the mill are numbered. Having another job would be an answer to my prayers, but I can’t abandon everyone in Three Coins just for my own selfish benefit.”
He paused as they entered the square. “Look, that’s Mr. Fletcher from the locomotive company coming out of the dressmakers. He doesn’t look very happy does he?”
“As I mentioned, Captain Grafton is in a terrible mood,” Caroline repeated. “I doubt he will be very receptive to any proposal you have to make to him.”
To her surprise he grinned at her. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained lass. Come on.”
She followed him up the stairs only to discover that Ruby had returned from Mrs. Sims’ and was waiting for them outside Captain Grafton’s office, arms crossed over her chest in a very determined fashion.
“Are you intending to speak to Captain Grafton, Jon?” Ruby asked.
“Yes.” Jon glanced briefly at Caroline before smiling at Ruby.
“Then I will come with you. He hasn’t replied to the letter I sent, so this is a perfect opportunity to confront him.”
Caroline knocked on the door and opened it. “Captain Grafton? You have visitors.”
She stepped back and let Jon and Ruby pass into the office before closing the door and walking across the corridor to her own room. She had a resignation letter to write and plans to put into effect. Jon and Ruby were perfectly capable of dealing with Captain Grafton without her help, and the less she had to look at him, the easier her decision making would be.
Francis waited until Mr. Ford and Ruby took their seats before turning to his agent. “You should probably stay and listen to this.”
He then addressed Mr. Ford. “I had just asked Mr. O’Brien to go and find you.”
“Why’s that Captain?” Mr. Ford asked. “Did you think I’d help you talk your tenants out of their homes?”
Francis sighed. “No, I hoped that you might ask them to attend a meeting at the hall tonight.”
“You want to be beaten up again?” Mr. Ford shook his head. “Fair enough, but I can’t guarantee I’ll save you this time.”
“I want to tell them what’s going on.” Francis insisted.
“They know what’s going on. They’ve all been served with eviction notices.” Mr. Ford looked over at Daniel O’Brien. “He handed them out.”
“That’s one of the reasons why I returned,” Francis said. “It wasn’t supposed to happen quite like that.”
The skepticism on the two faces in front of him was unmistakable.
“I also wanted to thank you for your letter, Ruby,” Francis continued.
“The one you didn’t reply to?” Ruby asked.
“By the time I received it, I had already decided to come back to Millcastle. Please let it be known that I appreciate the thanks of the workers committee, and I don’t require repayment.”
“Caroline said you’d say that,” Ruby said.
“Mrs. Harding knows me well.”
Ruby fixed him with an intimidating stare. “She obviously knows you better than you know her. How on earth could you think she would betray your secrets to Jon?”
Francis blinked at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“You accused Caroline of telling Jon about the deal to sell Three Coins, but she didn’t.”
Mr. Ford cleared his throat. “Ruby is correct, Captain. I knew about the financial agreement from a worker at the bank. Mrs. Harding said nothing to me.”
“Which in my opinion was a mistake,” Ruby interjected. “But she is stupidly loyal to you, even though you don’t appreciate her at all.”
Francis glanced from Jon to Ruby. His dealings with them were not proceeding quite as he had expected or planned.
“Perhaps we might get back to the matter in hand? Will you at least attempt to get my tenants to the meeting hall tonight?” Francis asked. “They will hear something to their advantage.”
Mr. Ford eyed him dubiously. “I’d much rather you told me what’s what right now so that I have something to convince them with.”
“Won’t the mere fact that they can throw rotten eggs and stones at me entice them in?” Francis asked.
“Of course it will, but a few hard facts wouldn’t come amiss either.”
Francis beckoned to his agent. “Will you be so good as to get out the plans?” He waited until the paper was unfolded and covered the top of his desk. “Now, here is Three Coins…”