Page 27 of The Tart's Final Noel
Oswald frowned more.“I think the exact wording was something like ‘The place is yours.They can come any time.’Or maybe she said ‘You can come.’It’s been a few months.But far’s I know, no one ever came.”
Until the other night, when someone killed her.Rafe’s gut churned, but his mind could make no sense of any of it.“No letter from Mr.Cooper?”
“Not that I recall, but I was down with the catarrh for a few days and my wife gave out the mail.”
Rafe had seen the letter, so he knew it existed.He’d have to question the wife.And then the ugly thought occurred—was Willa’s only correspondent the cousin whose funeral Cooper was to attend?
Fourteen
Minerva
Minerva wincedas the loose carriage wheel hit a rut and they nearly bounced into the ragged hood over their heads.“I can see why the post rider was eager to cut Gravesyde off his route.We need some wealthy landowners to pave the lane.”
“And charge tolls no one can afford.I’m pretty sure toll keepers don’t take apples or sheep in payment.”Paul grinned even as he attempted to steer the old mare around a half-frozen rut.
“We’re dreaming if we think we can lure customers here to buy Lavender’s dresses and Sofia’s perfumes.”Minerva scowled at the smoke rising from the manor’s chimneys.An earl’s family simply did not have the proper mercantile connections.
“Or Jacques’s shoes,” Paul agreed.“We are not too far from the Birmingham road.Perhaps that stretch of Gravesyde’s lane can be paved, once the bridge is rebuilt, but the paving would have to extend all the way through the village to reach the manor drive.”
They were avoiding thinking of murder and kidnapping and the causes thereof.Minerva was convinced the children had been stolen for reasons unknown.She and Paul had spent a restless evening tossing ideas about in the luxurious chamber Bosworth had provided.The banker’s hospitality did not include discussing possibilities for murder.He’d retired to his office shortly after dinner and hadn’t been seen again.
Another jolt caused a rattle between the cushions.Minerva slid her gloved hand between them to be certain the springs weren’t coming unattached.Her fingers closed around a tin.Twisting it back and forth until it loosened, she pulled it out, frowned, and pried off the lid.Inside were what appeared to be a few pink-coated candies.“Digestives?”she suggested, holding them up for Paul to see.
“Candies of some sort?”He shrugged, thought about it, and scowled.“Don’t taste one.We are assuming the driver was drunk, but she could have ingested something that disagreed with her.Let’s ask Meera what they contain.”
“Looks like candy to entertain the children.They seem to be fine.”She sniffed the small sugary pellet.“Ugh.Might be anise in the coating.”She snapped the lid shut.She hated anise but it might be a flavor the children enjoyed.Someone had tried to make them happy with candy.It could be a clue to who had sent them away.
Her husband drove the buggy into the inn yard around noon.No one emerged to greet them.Paul helped Minerva down, handed her the mailbag, then led the horse around to the stable.She’d been dying to root through the post in hopes of finding anything useful, but her proper husband had insisted the bag should be delivered to the postmaster.This was one of those times when her pragmatism clashed with his propriety.
Brydie’s eldest nephew hurried from the lobby to take the heavy bag and heave it onto the counter.“I’m to help Mrs.Russell,” he said in explanation.“So I’ve been trying to watch the inn while Mr.Russell is questioning suspects.”
“I take it that means Rafe hasn’t found who killed Willa yet?”Miranda shuddered.It would be a gloomy Christmas if they all had to huddle indoors to stay safe from the attack of a knife-wielding madman.
Arthur shook his head.“Should I look in the mailbag for responses from Mrs.Willoughby’s family?”
“Paul thinks we must deliver it to the postmaster.He’ll be in shortly and we can watch the desk while you carry it to the mercantile.Then Mr.Oswald can collect Mr.Cooper’s postage and officially hand the post to him.”She hoped he had the coins to pay.“That is, if Mr.Cooper is still here?”
“Mr.Russell is making him stay at the bakery.”Arthur cast a glance over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps down the hall.“I don’t think he wants anyone around the babes.”
Minerva didn’t take long to ponder that.She smiled in delight as Verity rushed out holding the youngest orphan.The pig-tailed child was almost too big for Verity to carry, but the innkeeper looked happier than she’d been lately.
“Any news?”she asked anxiously, setting tear-stained Daphne down beside the hearth where Wolfie slept.The child petted the enormous hound without fear.
“We found Beanblossom.The trunk with all their possessions is in the carriage.There’s something you might do, Arthur, while we’re waiting for my husband.Carry it in?”
Verity didn’t look relieved but watched anxiously as the boy loped out to fetch the trunk.“Did you find their family?Do we need to send them on?”
Arthur returned with the baggage.Minerva shook her head and said nothing while the child eyed the old box but remained where placed.So the trunk wasn’t familiar?“Is Daniel around?He might like to see if we found all his books.”
Given a task to make the children happy, Verity departed to find the boy.
Arthur eyed the battered trunk with curiosity.“Is it because nothing ever happens here that an old box seems exciting?Maybe it should be saved for Boxing Day.”
“I promise, the only excitement in that trunk is for the children.The rest of our news is still as much a muddle as when we left.”Minerva watched out the mullioned window as Paul checked the carriage for the trunk, then hurried into the lobby, swiping off his tall hat as he did so.
“May Arthur carry the mailbag down to the mercantile so he can see if any of Mr.Cooper’s family has had time to respond?I can’t think they have yet, but hope never dies.”Minerva helped Paul untangle his scarf while he pulled off his gloves.
“We saw Fletch riding toward Stratford, one assumes to collect today’s post?”Paul gathered his outer garments and hung them on the hooks by the door.“That’s more likely to hold a reply.”
