Page 67 of Winterset
“You’ve already spoken on their behalf,” he said. “Won’t you say anything for yourself?”
“No, sir.” I had no right to ask anything more of him. No matter my reasons, I was guilty.
His head tilted to one side.
What did he see? I wondered. An intruder? A thief?
“You are wearing a traveling dress,” he finally said. “Why?”
“It seemed most appropriate, considering you must send me away.”
“Must I? You and Mrs. Owensby said you have nowhere else to go. Where is it I am meant to be sending you?”
“I assumed you would either toss me out into the streets or to wherever it is that the constable takes thieves.” Not that I planned to allow either of those things to happen. Once I ensured my servants’ safety, I would depart. I could make my way to London and become a governess or a lady’s maid.
Mr. Jennings’s eyes widened. “You think I want you thrown into prison?”
I had no idea what Mr. Jennings wanted. I lifted my chin, trying to be brave.
“Miss Lockwood,” Mr. Jennings said in a low tone that sounded almost disappointed. “I have no desire to toss you out on the streets or have you thrown into prison.”
“How could you not? I trespassed your home. I stole from you.”
“You also ruined all my hats,” he grumbled.
“That, too, which is why you must fetch the constable. I understand. I only ask that you punishmeand not my servants.”
He appraised me. “You are adamant that I mete out a punishment?”
“Yes, sir. Butonlyme.”
He considered this for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Very well, if that is your wish.”
Relief rushed through me like a raging river. I hung my head and blew out a breath. Whatever happened to me now, at least my servants would be safe.
“For your punishment,” Mr. Jennings said slowly, as if still trying to decide how he should punish me even as he spoke. “I ... should like you to join me for dinner.”
“Dinner?” I glanced up at him.
“Seeing as you so obviously loathe me, I should think my company will be quite a punishment.” His mouth twitched.
Was that ... ? Did Mr. Jennings have a sense of humor?
“We will have a proper conversation about ... everything,” he said.
Everything.
What I’d done to him.
What he planned to do with me.
A conversation was more than I could hope for, yet the thought of sitting across the table from the man who held my fate in his hands frightened me. What was his motive? He’d said he didn’t want to see metossed out on the streets or thrown into prison, but he couldn’t want me living in his home either. Was he toying with me? He did notseemsinister, but I knew better than to let down my guard.
Mr. Jennings dipped his chin to catch my gaze. “That was my poor attempt to invite you to dine with me. But I can see by your reaction that I severely butchered it, so please allow me to try again.” He lightly cleared his throat. “Miss Lockwood, I would be honored if you would join me for dinner tonight. Will you?”
My stomach pleaded with me to accept, even as my head begged me to decline.
I didn’t know what to make of his invitation.
