Chapter 6
Titus watched the tall gentleman from across the street.
It was the same man he’d seen accost Mrs. Fleming—Tessa— at church on Sunday.
Tall, arrogant, and confident, the man had deliberately stepped in front of her that day.
At first, Titus had assumed he was a friend or acquaintance, but her unhappiness had quickly shown itself.
Before Titus could intercede, Tessa appeared to manage the thing.
It wasn’t his place to interfere, yet he couldn’t help thinking the little widow needed his help.
This day, the stranger glanced around before entering the modiste’s shop.
Titus was certain he’d seen Tessa enter that same place shortly before.
He always knew her whereabouts. Awareness of Tessa Fleming had begun to seep into his soul.
He sensed her presence whenever she was near, and his heart followed her moves even when his eyes didn’t.
He had not yet had time to unravel what that meant or could mean.
Something isn’t right. What business could a man like that have with the modiste? Ordering for some provincial mistress?
Crossing the street Titus groped for an excuse to follow him in. Titus had no business in the establishment either. Perhaps he would casually walk past the window and—
Before he could cobble together a plan the door flew open and Tessa Fleming stepped out, her sweet lips in a hard straight line of determination, her posture stiff. The stranger followed her closely. Too closely.
Titus hastened his steps. “Thank goodness. I was afraid I was late,” he said, offering his arm to the lady.
The relief in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. It took all his effort to keep his focus on the woman beside him, and not turn around and pummel the man following her.
“Yes. Right on time. As we planned.” The tremor in her voice was slight but definite. “Robby is so thrilled you are coming with me to greet him at school.” Her steady gaze urged him to go along.
Titus forced a chuckle. “Well, he might be, the rascal. I promised him we’d practice bowling.
“Why, Mrs. Fleming, who is your new friend?” The stranger oozed out his words with inuendo and malice.
“And what business is it of yours?” Titus demanded, glaring at the man. Something is off about this one. A day ago, I suspected Somerville as the night rider, but this one reeks of villainy—as I might expect of a brigand.
“Only someone with a concern for the lady’s reputation. A widow. Alone. She can’t be too careful.” The vile man eyed Tessa as he spoke.
Titus didn’t miss her intake of breath. The urge to knock the man down shook him, but that would only cause a scene. Tessa didn’t need two men brawling over her on a public street. He forced his attention back to the lady.
“We should be on our way. We don’t want Robby to worry if we are late.” Turning his back on the stranger, Titus put every ounce of encouragement he could muster into his voice.
“Yes. We best hurry on,” she replied. “Good day, Mr. Neale.”
Neale. Titus needed to investigate the worm. Robin or Justin would know.
They walked the length of the market street without speaking, Titus’s back to Neale but every sense focused on the man’s whereabouts. Tessa’s dainty hand gripped his arm. It might have delighted him if he weren’t so conscious of her fear.
“Is he the reason you bar your door so firmly?” Titus asked when he was certain they were alone.
“One of them,” she replied. She started to say more and stopped abruptly. He’d been wrong. They weren’t alone. Someone had spied them from the window of the tea shop. She approached at full sail.
“Mrs. Fleming, well met. It is such a lovely day,” the woman cooed. She gazed at Titus expectantly, obviously fishing for an introduction.
“Miss Prudence Danvers, may I present Major Titus Brannock? A friend of my husband’s from the fighting in Spain.” Tessa’s throaty voice sounded strained.
“Delighted! Irene, Abigail, and I were just saying how lucky you are to have the attention of not one but two handsome gentlemen. That was Oswald Neale I saw you with earlier, wasn’t it?”
Titus peered at the tea shop. Tessa’s friend Irene stood in the window looking fretful and unhappy about the confrontation.
“Actually, it is young Robby who has my attention, Ma’am. We’re on our way to fetch him for some promised cricket practice,” Titus said.
“Oh.” The woman’s avid eyes darted from one to the other, groping for her next verbal dart.
“And we best be on our way,” Tessa said, tugging his arm.
Titus happily obliged. When they were out of earshot he said, “Gossipers are everywhere.”
“Gossip can be vicious. It does real harm,” she replied bitterly.
He stopped abruptly to peer at her. “You’ve been threatened.” He wasn’t sure where that insight came from, perhaps her tone.
She stared at the ground.
“Tell me,” he said softly.
“A widow alone is a target for men without scruples. And for talk,” she said without looking up.
“And Oswald Neale?”
“He threatens to tell the good people of Normanton stories of camp followers, luridly enhanced and full of implication.” She raised her eyes to his. “I won’t let him bully me, but I can’t stop him.”
Titus held his rage in check. “Your behavior speaks for itself, and your friends aren’t fools. Shall we fetch your son as we told people? I’ll escort you home.”
He didn’t give her room to object. He would see them home, and he would examine that cottage for signs of vulnerability. Barring the front door was hardly enough.
* * *
The major wouldn’t take no for an answer, and, if Tessa were being truly honest, she was relieved. It took him two hours to examine the kitchen door, the roof, and every window and to craft stronger security bars. He spoke little to Tessa.
Robby followed him around but never seemed to try his patience. Brannock—Titus as he urged her to call him—explained what he was doing, gave the boy little tasks, and praised his efforts. Tessa’s heart melted at their interactions.
Tessa made a stew while he worked, but he declined dinner. “It won’t do to have that Danvers woman see me coming back to town after dark,” he said. She finally convinced him to sit for a few minutes for tea and fresh baked biscuits.
Robby picked up his school material to clear space.
“What is this?” Titus spied the miniature at the corner of the table when he sat down. “It looks a bit better.”
Tessa’s face heated. She had meant to burn the thing completely, but something held her back. “It seemed a pity not to try,” she said.
Try what? You tried with Rob, she had chided herself. He never did value much of what you did. Much of anything about you after the heat of the first few months.
“A bit of olive oil cut with a soft soap seems to be taking much of the soot. See the corner there? It seemed too precious to simply toss away,” she added. And it was. It had been a loving gift even if it wasn’t appreciated.
“That is what I thought when I found it in my things. I’m glad I brought it to you.”
Their eyes held, and for a moment Tessa wondered if he was glad about more than just the little painting. It was she who broke away. “And I thank you for it,” she murmured.
A few moments later he rose, bowed politely, and she walked him to the door.
“Dare I hope that bundle you carried out of the modiste’s premises means you’re preparing for the Somerville ball?” he asked from her front step.
“My friends wouldn’t let me say no,” she replied lightly.
“I’m glad. Will you save me a dance?” he asked.
“I would be pleased to,” she replied. I would save them all if it wouldn’t cause a scandal.
His smile warmed and almost melted her bones. “Excellent. I’ll see you then if not before.” He touched his hat, nodded, and left. For one insane moment she wanted to call him back.
Don’t be a nodcock, Tessa. Just because the man is kind doesn’t mean he has a serious interest. In a week he will be gone. Back to Lincolnshire.