A Mischief in the Snow - By Margaret Miles Page 0,84

him a fright, peering in at a window; but he soon found she wanted to watch. He finally coaxed her to talk a little—but did she know?”

“That Ned is her son? I think so. For fear of losing him a second time, she still won't say.”

Her son's dancing eyes, Magdalene had told her, came from his father—whom she would not see again. And Ned did have a warm, joyous presence; Charlotte had seen that often enough herself.

This time they moved together to new stalls, after emptying their pails into a vat on wooden runners.

“Did John Dudley come often,” Charlotte tried next, “to bring Ned the silver he needed? And the pewter?”

“It was usually Dudley. He left things in a hollow under a tree, in case anyone else should come by. He even brought his wife's spoons, and then lost one somewhere. Ned said Mrs. Dudley got it back from you. Did you find it that day you fell into the river?”

“Please don't remind me! Did Ned say how Dudley got the other spoons back?”

“He brought them from the island when Dudley told him he'd better, or his wife would have someone's ears! On the day of the ice harvest, he ran home and returned with them in his coat. And he slipped them into the bag I'd left by the bonfire, thinking Dudley would take them out when he was sure no one else noticed. But Dudley pulled the bag under his feet, and took it home at the end of the day.”

“Then whoever removed the hatchet took it before Ned came back—or he would have seen it when he put the spoons in?…”

“I'd say he would have had to.”

Charlotte stood once more, patting the brown rump before her as she waited for Lem to finish draining the last udder. “Did Alex Godwin know Ned visited the island, and why?” she asked finally.

“Oh, he knew. That's what he threatened to tell Mr. Longfellow—to get both of us into trouble. I don't suppose, though, that he ever really would have dared to.”

She hadn't yet told him she'd also learned that Alex had stood to gain Ned's fortune, after Catherine changed her mind. If he'd known that, would he have spoken so freely? She told him now.

Lem's reaction was a long, quiet look, and a slow nod. He understood and readily forgave her—just as she had forgiven him for his own recent omissions.

“But you will try to help him, if he needs it?” the young man asked, watching her earnestly.

“Of course.” She only hoped such a thing would be in her power. She prayed that what she suspected might be wrong.

“I will,” she said once more. “If I can.”

Chapter 30

WHAT DID HE say?” asked Longfellow.

Minutes before, Charlotte had returned and walked alone down the corridor to Longfellow's study. She'd found him gone.

Cicero informed her, once she'd found him in the cellar selecting a bottle of port, that Longfellow was out inspecting his glasshouse. This stood against the barn, to which a path through the deep snow had been made; still, she felt like grumbling as she took off her house shoes and put her boots back on, then slipped a cloak over her shoulders.

The inside of the glasshouse was hardly warm, but at least the wind could not get in. A Baltic stove with several branching conduits rising from its firebox served to keep one corner well above freezing, if it was regularly tended. This, Longfellow was seeing to now. The smell of green that surrounded them in the darkness was especially enjoyable at this time of year. The fronds of the tree fern and a few other specimens seemed to droop somewhat, but they'd survived here for several winters, and she knew it would take a hard frost to damage any of them permanently.

“He said,” she finally replied, “enough to make it clear that Moses Reed was right about one thing. Lem should have nothing more to fear, even from someone who may have wished to harm him, or to spoil his name.”

“Ned Bigelow, however…”

Her spirits sinking, Charlotte waited. Longfellow shut the iron door with a clang, and went on.

“There does seem to be something there. Could he have known about the inheritance—and, that he'd lost his chance? Magdalene may have told him of the first will. Jonah could also have decided he'd reached an age when he should know his own history. Then again, if Alex Godwin unsealed and read what he'd witnessed, and was about to deliver?… He might