Chapter Six
Liam had told himself the last four years that once his time at Trinity was over, he could begin searching for and eventually court a woman he could spend the rest of his life with.
He assumed romance would find him when he was ready for it, when he had a profession and an income sufficient to support a family, when he had time for things like romance and courtship.
Winnie Fitzsimmons had arrived in his life and upended those plans.
She was an utter delight. He enjoyed talking with her, enjoyed hearing about her thoughts and her interests. They had so many things in common.
But he couldn’t help thinking she was holding something back.
Every once in a while, she would seem to remember that she was talking with him and pull back into herself.
Why was that? He had a suspicion it had something to do with Fred.
Perhaps she didn’t think anyone would be willing to overlook his often grumpy and gruff behavior.
Perhaps Fred would disapprove of her having a gentleman caller.
That would make things difficult for her.
Liam didn’t know the answer, but he wanted to. Far more than the investigation Rev. MacDonnell and Dr. Poole had sent him on, he wanted to solve this mystery.
He was in the library at Trinity a few days after his Saturday and Sunday with Winnie when he spotted Fred seated at a table, bent over what appeared to be a letter.
He knew from Winnie’s explanation that Fred preferred to be alone.
Saints, he knew as much from his own interactions with the man.
And yet how could he solve the mystery of Winnie’s reluctance if he didn’t solve the mystery of Fred?
He sat at Fred’s table, but at the far end.
If he showed any inclination to allow conversation, Liam would take it up.
If not, he would simply have to try again another day.
If only he’d met Winnie a year or two earlier, then he would have plenty of time for earning the trust of her brother.
As it was, both of them were set to complete their time at Trinity in only a couple of weeks. It wasn’t nearly enough time.
He did his utmost to watch Fred without being too obvious about it. The last thing he wanted was to make the man immediately uncomfortable.
When one was really looking, the resemblance between the siblings was remarkable.
Shocking, even. He’d known a family like that in Howth, one in which all six of the siblings looked as though they could be identical twins despite the differences in their ages and genders. Some families were like that.
Fred and Winnie had the same nose, and the same chin, which was a little unfortunate for Fred, as it was very soft and rounded—the sort most often associated with women.
Perhaps if Fred grew his whiskers out, his appearance would lend itself more toward what was considered masculine.
But he appeared to be quite regimented in his shaving routine.
Liam had never seen him with even the tiniest bit of stubble.
Fred allowed his hair to hang a little bit long, certainly longer than was fashionable.
That, combined with his choice of clothing, indicated a person who didn’t care much what he looked like and certainly paid no heed to what was fashionable.
That had likely made him the recipient of ridicule from the very beginning at Trinity. Poor man.
He had his hat off, being indoors, which made it easier to see his expression. Something in the letter he was reading had upset him.
“Is something the matter?” Liam asked.
Fred looked up at him. The resemblance to Winnie was remarkable in that moment. He’d seen uncertainty in her eyes before, and it looked precisely like what he saw in Fred’s now.
“I’m not meaning to pry,” Liam said. “You simply seem upset.”
“I won’t bother you with it.” A gruff few words as usual.
“You needn’t think I’m a stranger prying out of curiosity. I’m a friend of your sister’s.”
That added a hint of curiosity to Fred’s uncertainty. And with that came a softening.
Liam moved to the chair directly across from Fred, allowing the conversation to be kept quiet, removing the possibility of being overheard. “Sometimes, it helps to talk about things that are difficult.”
Fred shrugged.
“There is nothing the matter with Winnie, is there?” Liam asked, that worrying possibility suddenly occurring to him.
Fred shook his head no. “’Tis a letter from home.”
“Containing bad news, it would seem.” Perhaps they had lost a family member. Having lost his own mother only three years earlier, while he was a student here, Liam could appreciate the weight of such news.
But, again, Fred shook his head. “’Tis confusing news, not mournful.”
“I have a good head for mysteries. I founded the Conundrums Club, which is dedicated to the solving of riddles and mysteries. Working out puzzles is a specialty of mine.”
“’Tis a personal one, this,” Fred said.
“I understand,” Liam said. “I wouldn’t speak of it to anyone.”
Fred dropped his gaze to the letter once more.
In a quiet voice, he said, “Someone from Trinity has been sending letters to the people of m’ village, asking a great many questions about me.
Questions that cast shadows on m’ character.
Questions that indicate someone here thinks I’m guilty of something. ”
It was the largest number of words Liam had ever heard Fred say at one time. Hearing him speak more, he got a better sense of the man. He would wager Fred was not naturally grumpy or dismissive. Being on campus and amongst others made him uncomfortable. Winnie had indicated as much.
That, however, was the least of his realizations in that moment.
He had continued with Rev. MacDonnell and Dr. Poole’s investigation because he’d thought he was protecting the Fitzsimmons siblings from scrutiny and misery.
That was proving not to be the case. They were taking the investigation further than they had indicated.
“Surely, the people of your village know you are beyond reproach,” Liam said.
Fred nodded but did not seem the least reassured by this logic. “Someone’s asking so many questions. Why?”
Heaven help him, Liam knew the answer to that. But explaining it would require admitting his role in the scheme. While he didn’t imagine he had much of Fred’s good opinion, he felt he had gained a good amount of Winnie’s. To lose that would be a crushing blow.
“The answer to that mystery can likely be found in what type of questions are being asked,” Liam said.
Fred’s eyes scanned the letter again. “They suspect me of something. Can’t say what.”
The questions they were asking likely meandered a lot, since neither MacDonnell nor Poole knew what they suspected Fred of.
“They have to stop,” Fred said. “They have to.”
“I’m certain it is uncomfortable,” Liam said, “but you will soon be done with your time here at Trinity, and I doubt anything suspicious will be said of you by your village.”
Fred shook his head over and over again, almost driven by panic, it would seem. “They have to stop.”
His level of worry increased Liam’s. He had assumed from shortly after meeting Fred that the provost and the professor’s suspicions were unfounded. Fred’s panicked response to these questions indicated otherwise.
“Are you in some kind of trouble, Fred?” Liam asked.
With that, Fred abruptly got to his feet. He popped his hat on his head, then gathered up all of his books and papers. He clutched them to himself the way he always did when trudging around campus. Without another word or backward glance, Fred left.
No matter that the man hadn’t answered the question—Liam knew the answer. Fred Fitzsimmons was hiding something, after all. Something he was afraid would be uncovered.