Chapter 23
A sturdy hand shook Charlotte awake the next morning. She opened her eyes to see Mrs. Norris’s stern smile. “Time to get up, my dear. I had Joshua fetch your things.” She held up the saddlebag. “Your skirt’s still damp, so I reckon you’d best wear what’s in here.”
Charlotte sat up gingerly and was relieved to feel none of the dizziness or lethargy from yesterday. “Thank you,” she said, with a tentative smile at Mrs. Norris.
“You think you can manage?” Mrs. Norris paused at the top of the ladder.
Charlotte nodded. “I feel like myself again.” Well, almost. After the searing kiss she’d shared with Joshua, she might never be the same.
She dressed in Simon’s trousers, stifling a twinge of regret. She didn’t want Joshua to see her in Simon’s ill-fitting clothes, which was nonsense. She’d spent half the journey with him dressed as a boy already.
The common room below was empty as she descended. “Where’s Joshua?” She hadn’t seen him since they’d finished supper the night before and he’d retreated to the barn for evening chores.
“Insisted on doing the milking this morning. As though I don’t manage every other day on my own.” Mrs. Norris worked at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them with a generous splash of milk.
“Does he . . .” Charlotte paused at the bottom of the ladder, uncertain how to put her fears into words. “Does he still plan to head to the city?”
Mrs. Norris stopped her bustling movements and brought her hands to her hips. “Don’t you fret, missy. My Josh isn’t one to turn his back on a promise. If he told you he’ll take you home, he’ll get you there.”
The woman’s long, steady stare unnerved her, as though she expected Charlotte to grasp some truth underneath her words that Charlotte didn’t understand. “I don’t need an escort, of course, but Joshua assured me he had business in the city so I thought—”
“I expect he does.” Mrs. Norris cut through her babbling. “But I reckon that’s not the only reason he’s seeing you home.”
Charlotte dropped her gaze at Mrs. Norris’s dry tone, heat rising up her neck to scorch her cheeks. She searched for a way to deflect the woman’s too-knowing gaze. “There’s Henry, too.”
The older woman cocked her head. “He told you about Henry?”
“Yes.”
“Never forgave himself for that.”
This made Charlotte take notice. “For what? Surely it wasn’t his fault that—”
“Of course it wasn’t. But that doesn’t mean he don’t blame himself for the whole sorry mess.
” Charlotte swallowed. She knew something about blame and guilt.
“After his pa died, his ma brought him to Irish Town. Probably would’ve made out fine, the two of them, but she went and got herself a new husband. ”
“Henry’s father.”
Mrs. Norris made a sound of disgust. “A drunken lout who had no use for Joshua. Josh’s ma sent him out to work to get him away from the man.” She shook her head. “Josh came to work for me a year after that. Took me months to get his story out of him. Don’t trust easy, that one.”
Charlotte nodded in agreement. She still had so many questions about him.
“Once he opens his heart, though . . .” A fond smile lit Mrs. Norris’s face, taking Charlotte aback. She’d known the woman had a soft spot for Joshua, but this was a closer bond than she’d imagined. “You won’t find a more loyal man.” Her intent gaze returned to Charlotte.
Charlotte turned away and busied herself folding her damp skirt. If she didn’t know better, she’d imagine Mrs. Norris was matchmaking.
Mrs. Norris returned to the fire and opened the bake kettle to reveal a beautiful golden loaf, filling the inn with the delicious smell of fresh bread. As though the scent called him, there was a rap at the door. Mrs. Norris lifted the bar, and Joshua strode into the room with a gust of chilly air.
He stopped at the sight of Charlotte, sending milk sloshing out of his bucket onto the floor. “You ready to go?”
Charlotte smiled. “I’m ready when you are.” She searched his face for any sign of softness but found only a stern tension.
He turned his attention to Mrs. Norris. “Is she strong enough?”
“She’s stronger than you think, but what’s your rush? Surely you have time for breakfast.” Mrs. Norris gestured to the skillet of eggs on the hearth.
“We must go,” Joshua said, his voice tight. “The horses are saddled and waiting.” He headed back outside as though he couldn’t get away from Charlotte fast enough.
Charlotte couldn’t reconcile this cold figure with the tender man who held her in his arms last night. She donned her coat and muffler and her old friend the fur hat, said farewell to Mrs. Norris, and in minutes they were on the road.
They rode side by side, Charlotte searching his profile for a sign that his emotions were in the same turmoil as hers, but his expression was inscrutable. Did he regret that kiss? Did she?
Joshua froze and brought Bess to a sudden halt. Charlotte followed suit and a second later she saw what caught his attention.
A handful of men rode toward them, riding two abreast, their faces obscured by mufflers. Weapons were visible across every saddle. She felt a frisson of danger just as Joshua must have, for he reached for his musket.
Charlotte’s stomach dipped. They certainly weren’t farmers or simple travelers. Rebels? Or militia? She thought of the youths who’d visited last night and Mrs. Norris’s promise to spread no tales. If these men were seeking information about rebels, how far would they go for the truth?
“Good morning,” Joshua called out, his voice cautious.
The man in front reined in. “How much farther to Mrs. Norris’s?” he asked without preamble.
“A few miles,” Joshua replied. “You have business there?”
“What’s it to you?” The man’s voice turned menacing. Charlotte edged Tuck closer to Bess.
“Burns.” Another voice, vaguely familiar, came from behind the men.
“Aye, sir?”
“Move aside.” There was an icy command in his voice that the men hurried to obey.
A figure on a fine thoroughbred trotted forward and reined in before Joshua.
Charlotte recognized the black gelding at once and her eyes flew to the man’s face.
Deacon Cole. She stifled a gasp. What was he doing here?
Her chest tightened, thinking of all the ways this encounter could go horribly wrong.
I know I’ve rushed headlong into every danger, but I’m listening now. Guide my steps.
She hunched her shoulders and pulled up her muffler, hoping her boy’s disguise would be enough to keep her from Cole’s notice. Luckily, the man was as unimaginative as he was conniving. He cast a cursory glance in her direction, then focused on Joshua.
Her panic receded. If Joshua could deflect his questions, they could be on their way before Cole had a chance to—
“Mr. Robertson.” Cole’s voice was cold as ice. “What are you doing on the road? I thought we had an agreement.”
Her thoughts stopped short at the sound of Cole’s voice. Identifying Joshua. Even claiming they had some sort of understanding. Impossible, she wanted to shout. Joshua had nothing to do with Deacon Cole’s ugly world of threats and bribery.
Charlotte waited for Joshua to deny any knowledge of Cole or his plans. To tell Cole that he’d mistaken Joshua for someone else.
“I have no information for you,” Joshua said instead.
“I sent you all the way to Line 5 and you found no sign of Simon Carruthers? Curious.”
Charlotte experienced a moment of disorientation, as if someone had tipped the world on its side and its pieces had fallen out of place. She willed Joshua to refute Cole’s insinuations. There must be an explanation.
“I said I’ve nothing to report.” Joshua’s voice was curt. Gruff. But he didn’t deny that he’d traveled on Deacon Cole’s instructions.
Cole jerked his head in Charlotte’s direction, and she tipped her chin down to hide her face. “That your brother? Wonder how you paid for his release. You won’t get a cent from me.”
“I don’t want your money.” Joshua’s voice was as cold as Cole’s and, for a moment, Charlotte wanted to believe him.
She wanted him to be the hero who’d saved her life in the marsh and fought for his little brother’s release, a man like Robin Hood, impervious to threats and bribes.
But she wasn’t that na?ve. He worked for Cole.
He’d used her to find Simon. And she’d never suspected a thing.
Blast. Joshua thought they had more time. He should have avoided the path and cut through the woods. He should have left last night. He should have paid closer attention. If he wasn’t so caught up in the woman beside him, he would have.
Now he was face-to-face with the man who’d hired him to find Simon Carruthers. The man who expected to meet him at Mrs. Norris’s today.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte tuck her chin into the muffler wrapped around her neck.
Joshua edged to the left, attempting to draw Cole’s attention from Charlotte.
He didn’t want Charlotte anywhere near the man.
Whatever motivated Cole to seek information about Charlotte’s brother, it stood to reason he’d have an interest in Charlotte, too.
And instinct told Joshua that Cole was dangerous.
“You disappoint me, Robertson,” Cole said. “And I never forget a disappointment.” He looked over his shoulder with an impatient jerk of his head. “Come,” he said to his men. “We’ve no more to learn here. Let’s be off.”
Joshua watched Cole and his men continue their journey north, releasing a long breath before turning to Charlotte. An explanation was in order. What must she think?
“Charlotte?” He hesitated, sensing the storm brewing. “Let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain.” She nudged Tuck forward. “I don’t require your escort any longer.”
“I promised your brother I’d see you home.”
“He won’t expect a man like you to keep a promise.” She met his eyes, and he swayed at the icy scorn there.
“I never intended . . .”
But she’d taken the lead, leaving him to follow as best he could on plodding Bess, his heart heavy. He had to make her understand how much he regretted the partnership he’d formed with Cole. He’d never betray her trust. After all they’d been through together, how could she believe he would?
The path allowed for only single-file travel, making conversation difficult. He couldn’t see her face, only the back of her shoulders, but her stiff silence convinced him she was in no mood to hear his explanations. He’d lost her.
He gave a short, humorless laugh. Impossible. He couldn’t lose what he’d never had to begin with.