Page 66 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
“Excuse me, Sir,” Ewan said.
“How may I help you?” the postmaster replied, in a broad Yorkshire accent that Henrietta struggled to decipher. Posting the letters earlier had proven a droll affair, for they had become lost in translation with one another. Indeed, he would undoubtedly recognize her after such an interaction.
“Have you spoken with a man named Mr. Booth today?”
The postmaster frowned. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Lord Averson’s new man?”
A flicker of recognition passed across the postmaster’s eyes. “Ah yes, I recall the fellow. He came in here shortly after noon, if I’m not mistaken. Had a young lass with him?”
It took all of Henrietta’s willpower not to whirl around.A young lady was with Seth? Who could that be?A sudden flash of remembrance burst into her mind, of being thrown from the horse and seeing hooves close to her face.Surely, a young lady would not do Seth’s bidding—he is much too proud for that.And yet, she could not imagine who else the young lady might be, if not an accomplice.
“A young lady?” Ewan replied.
“Aye, a lass of maybe eighteen. Terribly weary-looking creature—didn’t look as though she’d eaten much in a while. Sickly thing, with long dark hair and big brown eyes, like a doe.”
“Do you know her?”
The postmaster shook his head. “Haven’t seen either of them until today. I guessed this fellow to be Lord Averson’s man, as the letters were addressed from him. Was that not the chap you meant?”
Ewan paused. “No, I think that must be Mr. Booth. I do not know of the young lady, though. You are certain you have never seen her before?”
“Sorry, My Lord. I can’t say that I have.”
“Never mind,” Ewan said, his tone disappointed. “Thank you for your time.”
“Think nothing of it, My Lord. Happy to help.”
With that, Ewan turned and strode out of the postal office, with Henrietta in hot pursuit. The cold air lashed at their faces as they stepped back out onto the street. Henrietta knew, before Ewan said a word, that their trail had run dry. It was written all over his face.
“The household said he did not return until two o’clock,” Ewan muttered, half under his breath. “If he was here just after noon, then what kept him between then and two o’clock?”
“The young woman,” Henrietta replied. “It has to be something to do with her.”
Ewan frowned. “But what?”
“I cannot say.”
“Did Mr. Booth ever mention a family when he was in your father’s employ?”
Henrietta shook her head. “Not that I can recall.”
“He told me he had a sickly mother and a sister who had recently suffered something troubling.”
This was news to Henrietta. In all the time that Mr. Booth had been at the Oliver residence, he had never mentioned any family at all. Indeed, Henrietta had always thought it a rather peculiar attribute to have no family to one’s name.
“A ruse, do you think?”
He sighed heavily. “I do not know. Truly, this entire thing is becoming more and more convoluted. I felt sure we would be able to catch him in a lie by visiting these places, but it seems he was exactly where he said he was.”
“Up to a point,” Henrietta reminded him.
“I will send word to Averson, and have Mr. Booth followed when he next leaves the house.”
“An excellent plan.” Her gaze was suddenly caught by two figures standing on the corner of the street, a short distance ahead. The gentleman had his back to the pair of them, but she could see the young woman clearly. Dark hair, pale skin, bruised circles beneath the hollows of her sockets, an emaciated frame, and the biggest eyes that Henrietta had ever seen.
Thinking quickly, she grabbed Ewan’s arm and pulled him into the alleyway at the back of the postal office. He was about to protest when Henrietta placed her hand over his mouth, lifting her finger to her lips. Leaving him bemused, she peered around the brick wall that hid them from sight.
