Page 82 of Tangwystle
“That is a forgery if anything!” Rufus cried out, storming forward.
“I don’t think so,” a man with thick eyebrows hummed. He pointed something out. “Unless you dispute your wife’s signature.”
Rufus’s face went from red to purple, his cheeks puffing out.
He tried to snatch the paper from the man, only to receive a stern reproach. The man eventually passed it back to him, and Rufus stared, with his mouth hanging open, at the document.
I turned to Gretel, who lifted her brows. Yes, the document was correct. Baz and Gretel somehow convinced Isabella to sign discharge paperwork. Rufus now had no legal means to pursue.
“B-but—” Rufus vibrated, his confusion and anger mixing into one.
“You will find,” Baz said in a quiet, docile voice. It was the one he used on me when I caught him sneaking cookies out of the kitchen. “That I did not employ another man’s servant in my household.”
“You convinced my wife to sign this!” Rufus roared.
“Isabella Dove does not seem like the type to take orders,” Baz said, using her maiden name. Rufus went another shade darker, not liking this sense of familiarity between his wife and neighbor. “But as for the charge that I harbored a servant of yours that ran off, that’s simply not true.”
“This is dated several months ago,” a councilman stated.
“Yes,” Mr. Rodman said.
“Why wasn’t it produced last night?” the man with the beady eyes asked.
“I’d have liked to have grabbed it, but level heads didn’t prevail last night. Rufus stormed out with my other servant and Mr. Rodman thought best that I wait for the morning.”
“So we had to be woken early for this?” someone whispered down on the far end of the dais.
“I wish to see the registration number for this!” Rufus demanded. “Was it even filed with the clerk?”
The document was studied again.
“Yes.” A man pointed to a registration number. “Seems to be all in order.”
“Was this not discussed by the married couple?” someone asked.
“N-no.” Gretel stood and found herself the subject of everyone’s gaze. “T-the new Mrs. Clinemell came to me one night. She asked that I leave and gave no reason as to why. She gave me the discharge paperwork and told me to leave that night.”
Collectively, the Council brought their attention back to Rufus, who blinked.
“I, I. . .” For once, the great Rufus Clinemell found himself at a loss for words.
Gretel’s heels clicked together, the only sign of nerves. “I was very fortunate that Mr. Coldwell found me. It was late and dark and I was in need of new employment. He allowed me to stay the night and in the morning hired me.”
“And did he at any time tell you to stay hidden?” Mr. Rodman asked. “Did you avoid Clinemell because you believed you had done some wrong doing?”
“Only in the sense that I had been dismissed from my job,” Gretel said, appearing apologetic. “If I avoided them in the neighborhood it was simply out of embarrassment.”
Mr. Rodman thought it made sense. “I’m not one to pass judgment, Rufus, but your wife is young and beautiful.”
Rufus frowned, not understanding.
“Young brides get so jealous,” Mr. Rodman explained.
I could have snorted, if only I’d felt anything. I’d sat, stunned for most of the exchange. We were really going to pass all of this off as Isabella letting Gretel go because she’d wanted to ensure nobody but herself caught her husband’s eye.
I started to boil. I knew the truth. Isabella was too good for Rufus. He wasn’t fit for anyone, and Isabella knew it too.
Isabella hadn’t liked how her husband had treated Gretel. She knew the circumstances that led to Gretel’s disappearance, and this act of kindness was her way of trying to right a wrong.
