Chapter 33
Ballantine rose to take his leave, still shaking his head at Charlotte’s decision. He looked out the window. “Where did that boy get to?”
“He’s probably still in the kitchen.” Fulton had likely filled him up with jam by now. “I’ll go fetch him.”
Charlotte hurried down the hall to the kitchen. There was no sign of Fulton, but Henry sat at the table. Next to the boy was Joshua, shaved and dressed and looking so much like his old self that her throat tightened. “Henry, Mr. Ballantine is ready to go.”
The boy jumped up with alacrity. “I’ll fetch the carriage.”
Joshua rose as well and followed Henry to the door. “Let me give you a hand.”
“You’re still recovering,” Charlotte protested. “Let me go.”
“Very well.” His quick capitulation surprised her until she drew nearer and saw the lines of strain around his eyes. “I think I’ll sit for a bit.”
Henry darted ahead to the stable while Charlotte lingered in the yard, turning her face to the weak December sun.
She could scarcely comprehend her new reality.
She looked at the house, expecting to feel a pang of regret.
Peace flowed instead. In death, Papa had given her the one thing she’d never had. Freedom.
The sound of galloping hooves had her spinning to face the drive. A group of men approached. Charlotte had no difficulty identifying the familiar stallion in the lead.
Deacon Cole.
Her chest tightened. She should’ve known he’d be back.
The men reined in before her with a flourish of stomping hooves and heaving sides.
“Mr. Cole,” Charlotte said. “To what do we owe this visit?” She scanned the group, her tension mounting.
Henry’s small form peeked out from the barn door, and she prayed he wouldn’t head into the fray.
Instead, he darted around the side of the barn toward the house. Good. At least he’d be out of danger.
“I bring news of your brother, Miss Carruthers.” He dismounted and approached, his lips curling into a thin smile that made Charlotte shiver. “As I suspected, his name appeared on the list of rebels committed to Mackenzie’s cause, though he’s escaped justice . . . for now.”
Charlotte’s mind raced. She was tempted to blurt out that the stakes had changed, and he had no power over her now, but something made her hesitate.
Cole was a slippery opponent. Better to see what the man intended before she played her hand.
She tilted her chin, hoping he couldn’t sense her turmoil.
“If it’s on a published list, it’s hardly a secret, is it?
That puts a wrench in your plans to blackmail my family. ”
He only smiled wider, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Blackmail? Oh no, my dear, nothing as sordid as that.” He approached, his eyes scanning the house and grounds.
“I figured you’d try to hold on here until your brother returns to claim his inheritance.
” He was too close now, looming over her.
“But it won’t be easy for a woman out here . . . alone.”
Like everyone else, Cole assumed Simon would inherit Edenbrook. “The house is not for sale.”
“You can keep your blasted house.” Cole was all business now, his voice clipped and sharp. “Just let me dig up the clay I need. When Simon returns, it will be done. Nothing he can do about it.”
“Absolutely not.” Her stomach clenched. “You can’t do that.”
“I can. Because you are going to let me.”
“Why would I?”
“I’m not without influence, my dear.” He looked back over his shoulder at the men behind him. She recognized the silent threat. “I can provide a level of protection for you, a woman alone.”
Charlotte didn’t want to play Cole’s games of manipulation and innuendo. “Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not.” His answer was immediate. Smooth. As though his plan was foolproof. “I’m offering you a partnership. I will make sure you’re safe here. You’ll provide me access to all the clay I need without raising a fuss.”
Just a day ago, she’d have had no choice but to accept this offer. But now . . . She took a deep breath, letting lightness fill her. Now she was free. Free to shake off the obligations that had hemmed her in and choose her own path.
At her continued silence, a thread of impatience entered his voice. “A woman in your situation cannot be too careful. You are alone . . . unprotected.”
“The girl’s not unprotected.” Ballantine’s voice echoed across the yard as he descended the front steps. “Cole, what is the meaning of this?”
As one they turned, a comic look of shock on Cole’s face. Ballantine strode forward, Henry and Joshua at his heels. A stab of tenderness shot through Charlotte’s middle. She wasn’t alone.
“Ballantine,” Cole said with a nervous smile. “I didn’t realize . . .” He regrouped. “I came to offer my assistance to Miss Carruthers. Now that she is alone.”
“Sounds more like you came to threaten her.” Joshua’s voice was hard as flint. He stood, arms crossed, looking like nothing could move him. The sight made her heart swell with emotion even as she sent a worried glance at his injured leg.
Cole’s gaze swung to Joshua, his eyes widening in recognition.
“You.” He looked from Charlotte to Joshua with a mocking smile.
“How on earth did you weasel your way into Miss Carruthers’s good graces?
” His gaze flicked dismissively to Charlotte.
“She’s na?ve enough to believe anything.
I wonder how she’d react if she knew you spied on her brother?
” He took a menacing step toward Joshua.
“Does she know you’re a liar who can’t be counted on to keep his word? ”
Joshua’s pallor grew and Charlotte wondered if it was due to Cole’s accusations or his injured leg. She was about to speak up for him when Henry jumped in.
“My brother isn’t a liar!”
Brother? Charlotte sucked in a shocked breath, her gaze flashing to Joshua. He gave a tiny nod to confirm Henry’s assertion.
“Brother, eh?” Ballantine looked from Henry to Joshua. “So this is he?”
Henry nodded. “Aye. And he’s no liar.” He turned back to Cole. “You’re the liar. I saw your men at Montgomery’s Tavern.”
“You were at Montgomery’s Tavern?” Cole said derisively.
“He was.” Ballantine moved forward and put a hand on Henry’s shoulder.
“You would believe a street urchin over me, a business associate you’ve known for years?” Cole said, outraged.
Ballantine’s chin shot up. “Not a street urchin. A young man who did his part to stop the rebellion.” His voice was like ice. “Perhaps that’s more than can be said for you, Cole.”
Cole blanched. “I beg your pardon?”
Charlotte looked between the men in surprise. For all his faults, she’d never heard a soul accuse Cole of disloyalty.
“Come to think of it, I didn’t see you at the militia meeting,” Ballantine continued. “Nor did you report to the governor.”
“I was on the road.” Cole’s voice rose, making his horse shift beneath him. “Tracking down rebels.” He looked to his men for confirmation, but they had edged their mounts toward the road and seemed not to hear him. “Where are you going, you fools?”
“I’m not waiting like a sitting duck for that sharpshooter. Blew Jacobson’s hat right off his head.” The man gestured to his companion, who was, indeed, hatless. As one, the men wheeled their horses and left Cole alone in the stable yard.
Henry shook his head in disgust. “Even his men don’t believe him.” He looked at Ballantine. “Seems to me he was biding his time, waiting to see which side would come out on top. He’s an oppor . . .” Henry paused, seeming to search for a word. “What’s that word again, sir?”
“An opportunist,” Ballantine said dryly. He sent Cole a stern glance. “Aye, I imagine you’re not far off the truth, lad.”
“These accusations are an outrage,” Cole sputtered.
Yet there was a catch in his voice and a tension in his body that indicated Henry had hit on the truth. Charlotte shook her head. All these years, she’d lived in fear of Cole’s power and influence, but the man was nothing more than a cowardly traitor.
“An outrage, yes.” Joshua stepped forward to stand beside Henry and Ballantine. “But true, nonetheless. I heard you scheming with your men at Cooper’s Inn. You didn’t want to put all your eggs in one basket in case the rebels should prevail.”
Cole looked to Ballantine, his voice conciliatory now. “Thomas, you’ve known me for years.” He flicked a disdainful glance at Joshua. “Do you really think this yokel’s word would hold up in a court of law?”
“I don’t think it,” Ballantine said. Cole’s shoulders relaxed until he continued. “I know it.” He took a step closer. “I reckon you’re loyal to one man, Cole. Yourself. And now that’s caught up with you.”
Deacon Cole looked back to his rapidly disappearing men and then sent a final, frantic gaze around the yard. Digging his heels into his horse’s flanks, he spun about and galloped out of sight.
Joshua watched Cole ride away, wondering how he’d ever agreed to work with the man. He’d been desperate, yes, but that was no excuse.
Ballantine moved to Charlotte’s side and said something low in her ear. She answered, but not before she’d sent Joshua a wide smile that warmed him to his toes.
“You going to marry her?”
“What?” Joshua sputtered, looking down at his brother.
“You look at her the way guv looks at Mrs. Kinney. I reckon that means you want to marry her.”
Joshua tried to laugh over the tightening in his chest. Yes, he did want to marry Charlotte Carruthers.
That didn’t mean he would. “Your Mr. Ballantine is something,” he said to Henry, changing the subject.
The man had routed Cole in five minutes flat with only his words and a few sharp observations.
Henry laughed, sounding so much like a carefree child that Joshua’s throat tightened. The hard distrust had disappeared from Henry’s eyes. His smile was easy, his stance confident, the sharp lines of his body filled out from good meals. “Aye, he is.”
“Thanks for sticking up for me back there.” Joshua rested a hand on Henry’s shoulder, earning him an appraising glance.
“’Course. You’re my brother.” There was still a reserve in Henry’s voice that reminded Joshua of the years of struggle and hurt between them.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Joshua said.
Henry studied him, his mouth turned down. If Joshua was hoping for a quick absolution, he wouldn’t get it.
“You know why I didn’t come back. I made a home for us. I always planned to come and fetch you as soon as I had the place in order.”
Henry shrugged. “Guess I didn’t think about all that. All I wanted was you.”
“Me? What good would I have been to you?”
“People need their kin, I reckon. I didn’t care where I lived. I just didn’t want to be alone.”
He turned away, leaving Joshua stung. Alone. He looked over at Charlotte, deep in discussion with Ballantine. Planning a future that didn’t include him. How could it? He’d never told her how he felt.
What that girl needs is a man who would put her first.
“You ought to talk to Miss Charlotte, don’t you think?” Henry said over his shoulder.
He met Henry’s gaze, intent and knowing. “Aye. I reckon I should.”