a small curtsy. Then, for a while, there was silence as the three of them drank their soup. The peace of the place started to spread through Charlotte, and her eyelids drooped. She swayed in the hard chair and wondered if she might ask to lie down.
The door rattled, then boomed under a pounding fist. Charlotte jerked and spilled the last of her soup on her knee. Ethan leapt to stand before the panels.
“Aunt Sarah! Open up!”
Their hostess sprang to her feet and quickly unbarred the door. A young man, barely more than a boy, stumbled through and pushed it closed behind him. Panting as if he’d been running, with a bloody scrape on his cheek, he slumped against it. He looked exhausted and afraid, and a razor-sharp scythe dangled from one of his hands. “Jim!” Sarah Finlay cried. “What’s happened to you?”
“We got down to Butterley all right,” he said. “But there weren’t nothing at the ironworks but the factory agent and some constables. Only a few men, but nobody dared face them down. Just like always, them as is on top stays there. Nothing’s changed. The rest headed for Ripley, but I’d had enough. I ran back cross-country and nearly broke a leg in the dark.”
“You did right,” said his aunt.
He looked up and noticed the others. The scythe came up. “Who’s that?”
“Just some folks getting away from all these… troubles.” Mrs. Finlay had taken up a damp cloth; gently, she swabbed his face.
“You let them in?” He squinted at Charlotte, taking in all the details of her bedraggled state, then examined Ethan, who topped him by a good six inches.
“Of course I did, Jim.”
“That one’s quality. Why should we lift a finger to help quality when they live high off our sweat?”
“That’s not the way I see it.” His aunt finished cleaning off his cheek. “Not so bad. Just a scratch,” she decided.
The sound of hoofbeats approached outside. Jim’s eyes widened, and in an instant he was across the room, one arm around Charlotte’s neck, the tip of the scythe at her throat. “Make a sound, and I swear I’ll cut you,” he whispered. Ethan took a step, and the boy glared at him. “I’ll do it!”
“Jim!”
“Quiet,” he hissed to his aunt. “If soldiers followed me from Butterley I’m for the gallows and no mistake.”
Sarah Finlay wrung her hands, distressed, uncertain. “You’ll not hurt anyone in my house,” she whispered.
Slowly, the hoofbeats passed by and faded. When all had been silent for several minutes, Jim’s grip relaxed. The scythe fell away. Ethan lunged and twisted it from the lad’s grasp. “We’ll have no more talk of cutting,” he said grimly. “You sit over there in the corner and keep still.”
Lucy ran to Charlotte, exclaiming over a few drops of blood shining red at her throat. “I’m all right,” Charlotte said. It was no more than half a lie.
***
Alec rode slowly on through the darkness. South Wingfield had been quiet, buttoned up tight, and he hadn’t wanted to knock on any doors, alarming people for no cause. The action had clearly passed on south, beyond his reach at the moment. He slumped in the saddle, rubbed tired eyes, and regretted this side excursion. The momentum of these endless days had carried him out of his way, when all he cared about now was Charlotte. He knew he could ride the roads and fields all night and never find her, but to give up was unthinkable. He would travel in expanding circles in the tangle of lanes surrounding around the Danforth house, and when day came he would continue. He would never stop until she was safe—and in his arms.
Twenty-four
Through the slant of early morning light, the cart rattled along a narrow lane. The June day was cool, the sky a transparent blue; birdsong filled the hedges. There was no sign, in this serene landscape, of the previous night’s troubles, except that the roads were empty. Ethan held the reins; Lucy sat between him and Charlotte, the three of them squeezed close on the narrow seat. Awkwardness had descended upon them with the new day—the barrier between servant and master recalled—and they traveled mostly in silence.
“How far is it?” asked Charlotte after a while.
“Matter of half an hour or so,” Ethan replied.
She nodded thanks for the information and fell back to wondering what Alec would say when she showed up at his country home. He could not blame her when he heard what had happened. But after what had