Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Hugh caught himself relaxing for the first time since discovering Pip in the vicarage yard yesterday.
Georgie’s smile was sweet, her laughter infectious as she and the boy chatted about things he’d done or wanted to do.
Pip seemed more relaxed too, his face alight.
Even King Saul curled up beside her as if content.
“And how are the two of you getting along with our friend here?” she asked, bending to run her hand along the pug’s back.
King Saul gazed at her adoringly. Hugh had to school his face to keep from doing the same.
“He’s not bad,” Pip said with a nod to the dog. “Though he don’t listen.”
“He doesn’t always listen,” Hugh agreed. “Unless, of course, you sing to him.”
Georgie giggled. “Sit, Saul.” She sang the words, watching the little pug at her feet.
King Saul obligingly sat up.
Pip’s eyes widened. “’How’d you do that?”
“Sophia, the current Duchess of Tyneham, told me he knows certain commands,” Georgie explained. “Sit, stay, here, that is come here to my side. But you must sing them to him.”
Pip’s face puckered, and Hugh chuckled. “I had the same reaction, Pip. But let’s test that theory.” He rose and crossed the room to the kitchen door. “Here, King Saul.”
The pug tipped its head but didn’t move.
“Here, King Saul,” Hugh sang.
The dog jumped up and trotted to his side.
“What, was he raised by an opera singer?” Pip demanded.
Georgie laughed. “No. An elderly music teacher in Grace-by-the-Sea. She could no longer keep him, and Sophia thought the vicar could do with a friend.” Georgie smiled at Pip. “That was before we knew about you, of course.”
The boy popped up and went to put an arm about the pug’s shoulders, earning him a lick on the cheek. “We’re both Mr. Caddington’s friends, and we’re both staying.” He looked up at Hugh. “Right?”
How could he refuse? How could he agree? “I certainly hope so,” Hugh managed with a look to Georgie.
She rose. “I should be going. I’ll speak with the duke about your new family. He’ll no doubt assure you of his support at dinner on Wednesday. You’re welcome to bring Pip.”
Pip frowned as if he wasn’t too sure he wanted to be included. And Hugh rather thought he might have a better chance of convincing the duke without Pip present. “Perhaps not yet,” he said. “I’ll ask Mrs. Hallet to stay with him for an hour or so.”
Pip rose, chin up again. “I can take care of meself.”
“I’m sure you can,” Georgie said, gathering her gloves from where she’d set them on the side table. “But Mrs. Hallet misses her grandson a great deal now that he’s moved to Grace-by-the-Sea. She would no doubt greatly value your company.”
Pip subsided. “I guess that’s fine, then. He’s the one what gave me these clothes, she said. She had them in a trunk.” The boy plucked at the coat and trousers.
“Already you’ve taken his measure,” Hugh said as he escorted Georgie to the door. “Is there no one you can’t charm?”
She dimpled. “I can think of a few. You’re doing a marvelous job, Hugh, with him and with King Saul. You’ve always had a heart for those who need you.”
And even one who needed him not at all.
* * *
By Tuesday, Hugh began to believe he could manage his new responsibilities. Not only had he counseled a couple considering marriage, but both King Saul and Pip had been on their best behavior. Mrs. Hallet even proclaimed the boy a true gentleman when he helped her wash up after the morning meal.
A visit from Mr. Pritchard shook Hugh’s confidence.
“I’m very sorry to trouble you, Vicar,” the wet grocer said as he settled his considerable bulk onto one of the sitting room chairs and smoothed back his black hair with one hand. “But the other shopkeepers were concerned enough to send me to you.”
Mrs. Hallet and Pip were out doing the marketing, and King Saul was sleeping by the fire. Still, Hugh couldn’t help listening to make sure he heard no movement in the kitchen before encouraging his parishioner to continue.
“It seems,” Mr. Pritchard said, pausing to lick his thick lips, “that things are going missing.”
Hugh’s heart sank. Pip had vowed he’d only stolen from the vicarage. Had he slipped into the other houses as well?
“Oh?” Hugh asked.
Mr. Pritchard nodded, grey eyes gleaming. “A few apples from my store. A sack of rice from the dry grocer. Mr. Pierce says a spool of ribbon walked out the door last week, unseen.”
Hugh frowned. Apples he could understand, but what would Pip do with a sack of uncooked rice, much less a spool of ribbon? Had he thought to sell the things and earn money?
“That is indeed troubling,” Hugh told the wet grocer. “I’ll change my sermon for Sunday to speak about the evils of theft. You know of no one who’s in such need they might be driven to steal?”
Mr. Pritchard shook his head. “There’s always a family or two down on their luck.
I keep their accounts on my books until they’re able to pay again.
Most of the other shopkeepers do the same.
We’re all neighbors here. We help each other.
That’s why this stealing is so concerning.
” He leaned closer. “You don’t think it might be one of those newcomers up at the manor? They’re the only strangers hereabouts.”
Except for Pip, but Mr. Pritchard likely hadn’t met the boy yet. Would more things go missing after Pip’s shopping excursion today?
“I doubt any of our new friends would treat the village so shabbily,” Hugh assured the shopkeeper. “As far as I know, they plan to make this their home for the foreseeable future. Perhaps whoever did this will think better of their behavior and stop.”
Mr. Pritchard seemed to accept that and took his leave, but Hugh sat Pip down in the study as soon as the boy returned.
“It appears there’s a thief in the village,” Hugh said.
Pip sighed. “Always trouble somewhere, in’it?”
“Food, ribbon,” Hugh pressed.
Pip snorted. “What fool steals ribbon? You can’t eat it, and you can’t sell it to anyone.”
Interesting. “So, it wasn’t anyone you know?”
“Who do I know here besides you, Mrs. Hallet, and Her Grace?” he demanded. Then his eyes widened. “You can’t think Her Grace would steal! Why, she must have everything!”
Hugh gritted his teeth a moment. “I highly doubt Georgina, Dowager Duchess of Tyneham, would ever steal.”
Pip grinned. “Unless she steals yer heart, eh? I heard a bloke say that once, that some gel had stolen his heart. It sounded silly, but I can see how that might happen to a fellow. Has it happened to you?”
“We are getting off the subject, if you please,” Hugh said, though his cheeks heated. “Have you been stealing from the village shops?”
“No,” Pip said, grin changing to a scowl. “I told you—I only borrowed from you. If someone’s a thief around here, it in’it me.”
Hugh nodded. “Go see if Mrs. Hallet needs help in the kitchen. I’ll be back shortly.
He left Pip’s scowl behind.
He stopped first at the wet grocer’s. Apron around his ample waist, Mr. Pritchard was back at his post behind the counter near the rear of his shop, and several of the village ladies were studying the plump red forced strawberries, green-headed stalks of rhubarb, and bunches of turnips and parsnips arranged in baskets along either side of the space.
Hugh tipped his hat to the ladies, then approached the grocer.
“Mrs. Hallet forget something?” Mr. Pritchard asked with a cheerful smile.
Hugh leaned across the counter and lowered his voice. “Did your good wife notice if anything went missing while you were with me?” he asked.
Mr. Pritchard’s smile faded. “Funny you should ask. Seems we lost a pint of those strawberries. The shop was full, you see, so she couldn’t keep an eye on everyone.”
“Did she happen to mention who was in?” Hugh asked.
His gaze rose to the ceiling as if he thought to find the answer written on the white-painted crossbeams. “Mrs. Pierce, Mrs. Bailey and young Sally, Mrs. Bettleton from the manor—always an important customer—and Mrs. Hallet along with that boy I understand you’ve taken in. ” His gaze dropped to Hugh and stuck.
Hugh straightened. “I was acquainted with Pip from my time at Saint Martin-in-the-Field. I’m awaiting word from His Grace about whether the boy will be staying.”
“Well, a good church-going boy ought to be welcome here,” the wet grocer said with a nod that set his double chins to quivering. “I imagine his parents would be glad to have him learn from you.”
Hugh inclined his head and turned away. At some point, Pip’s past would come to light, and very likely bring Hugh’s into focus as well. He could not be blamed for hoping to keep both quiet a little longer.
* * *
Between one thing and another, Georgie didn’t have a moment to speak with the duke until Tuesday afternoon.
Claudia, Oliver, and Ben were touring the progress on the renovations; Sophia was out riding; and Sir Winfred had gone to bid farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Atkins at the Grange, who would be moving shortly to live in Grace-by-the-Sea.
That left Georgie, Max, and Anastasia to their tea in the library, with Morrigan on duty as chaperone.
By his own admission, the library was Max’s favorite room in the manor.
Georgie could understand why. Who wouldn’t enjoy being surrounded by books?
Now a fire crackled in the stone hearth against an April day that had turned cool, and she could smell the tangy scent of bergamot coming from the tea Sophia blended for the manor.
Max nodded his thanks as Georgie handed him a cup. “And how are you and Mr. Caddington getting along these days?”
Even the duke was privy to her previous association with the minister now. “Fine, thank you. You knew about his dog?”
“King Saul? Yes.” Max smiled, the look further lighting his clear blue eyes. “Sophia told me of her plan before she enacted it. I take it he’s a clever pup.”