she slowly tied her ribbons under her chin. “And what highwayman?”
“I’m surprised you have not yet been told, Lady Jane,” Dr. Berridge said from behind her. “There has been a rash of robberies—both of coaches on the road and of local businesses in the nearby towns.”
“The tack shop in Ambleside lost two saddles,” Victoria added, with a bit too much gothic glee. “Reston was attacked in the winter—Dr. Lawford’s offices were burgled, and the next night, Mr. Davies’s shop was ransacked!”
“But it is the main roads into the district that have taken the brunt of the thief’s . . . er, talent,” Dr. Berridge said.
“Father has even made us start to lock our doors,” Victoria added.
“That is all very tragic, and I will be certain to add a few night watchmen to the Cottage’s staff,” Jane replied stiffly, “but what makes this whole town think the perpetrator is Mr. Worth?”
“It’s an issue of timing. The highwayman has been operating in this area for nearly a year now, which coincides almost exactly with when Mr. Worth came to stay.” Dr. Berridge shrugged, stating simple facts.
Victoria, however, was not bound by simple facts. “And no one—absolutely no one—likes him. He was unconscionably rude to Mama when he first arrived, and she traveled all the way to the widow Lowe’s house with a welcome basket.” Victoria sniffed.
Jane remembered what Mr. Worth had said about welcome baskets—and how they came more with questions than jam. And if Lady Wilton was the deliverer, Jane was not surprised that he was left with that impression.
“And when he does come to the village, which he himself rarely does, he never says hello to anyone in the street,” Victoria continued. “He growled at the rector’s wife just this past Christmas, when she tried to ask if he was coming to services.”
“Circumstantial evidence at best,” Dr. Berridge replied.
“My dear doctor—medical school and the law? How accomplished you must be,” Victoria said pertly, eliciting a grin from her admirer. “And what makes something circumstantial but its circumstances?”
“If you were to ask Mr. Cutler, he would say that circumstances matter very little in the face of facts.”
“But in the absence of facts, you cannot blame those with a mind to gossip for relying on circumstance to invent them,” Victoria countered, her hand on Dr. Berridge’s arm and smiling winningly at him.
And earning a smile from Jane. Victoria may not know it, but she was flirting with the doctor. Delightfully. No wonder the man was so taken.
Victoria led both Dr. Berridge and Lady Jane through the door and into the afternoon sunshine. Impressed not only by Victoria’s flirtation but by the intelligence it portrayed, Jane decided to be impulsive and invite her old playmate to come to the Cottage for tea in a few days.
“I’m afraid that day is my mother’s knitting circle at tea. Impossible to cancel.”
All the better, Jane thought. “Well, if she can excuse you, please come.”
Victoria smiled, but then hesitated. “We haven’t seen much of your brother this visit.”
Oh dear. Jane watched the doctor’s expression carefully as she gave a noncommittal, “Hmm. Yes, he’s been reacquainting himself with the countryside.”
Victoria’s face betrayed a flicker of disappointment, but to give credit to her restraint, she did not continue the line of questioning. Waving good-bye at the gate, Jane allowed Dr. Berridge to escort her across the Wiltons’ small park to her carriage.
“Dr. Berridge,” Jane began, “I find I like you. So, might I be impertinent for a moment?”
The young doctor glanced over at her, then replied, “I should be honored, my lady.”
“How is it you have not yet fixed your interest with Victoria?”
The young doctor blushed, but that was his only visible reaction. His response was equally measured, his voice pitched low. “Likely because she has not taken notice of my
“I’m surprised you have not yet been told, Lady Jane,” Dr. Berridge said from behind her. “There has been a rash of robberies—both of coaches on the road and of local businesses in the nearby towns.”
“The tack shop in Ambleside lost two saddles,” Victoria added, with a bit too much gothic glee. “Reston was attacked in the winter—Dr. Lawford’s offices were burgled, and the next night, Mr. Davies’s shop was ransacked!”
“But it is the main roads into the district that have taken the brunt of the thief’s . . . er, talent,” Dr. Berridge said.
“Father has even made us start to lock our doors,” Victoria added.
“That is all very tragic, and I will be certain to add a few night watchmen to the Cottage’s staff,” Jane replied stiffly, “but what makes this whole town think the perpetrator is Mr. Worth?”
“It’s an issue of timing. The highwayman has been operating in this area for nearly a year now, which coincides almost exactly with when Mr. Worth came to stay.” Dr. Berridge shrugged, stating simple facts.
Victoria, however, was not bound by simple facts. “And no one—absolutely no one—likes him. He was unconscionably rude to Mama when he first arrived, and she traveled all the way to the widow Lowe’s house with a welcome basket.” Victoria sniffed.
Jane remembered what Mr. Worth had said about welcome baskets—and how they came more with questions than jam. And if Lady Wilton was the deliverer, Jane was not surprised that he was left with that impression.
“And when he does come to the village, which he himself rarely does, he never says hello to anyone in the street,” Victoria continued. “He growled at the rector’s wife just this past Christmas, when she tried to ask if he was coming to services.”
“Circumstantial evidence at best,” Dr. Berridge replied.
“My dear doctor—medical school and the law? How accomplished you must be,” Victoria said pertly, eliciting a grin from her admirer. “And what makes something circumstantial but its circumstances?”
“If you were to ask Mr. Cutler, he would say that circumstances matter very little in the face of facts.”
“But in the absence of facts, you cannot blame those with a mind to gossip for relying on circumstance to invent them,” Victoria countered, her hand on Dr. Berridge’s arm and smiling winningly at him.
And earning a smile from Jane. Victoria may not know it, but she was flirting with the doctor. Delightfully. No wonder the man was so taken.
Victoria led both Dr. Berridge and Lady Jane through the door and into the afternoon sunshine. Impressed not only by Victoria’s flirtation but by the intelligence it portrayed, Jane decided to be impulsive and invite her old playmate to come to the Cottage for tea in a few days.
“I’m afraid that day is my mother’s knitting circle at tea. Impossible to cancel.”
All the better, Jane thought. “Well, if she can excuse you, please come.”
Victoria smiled, but then hesitated. “We haven’t seen much of your brother this visit.”
Oh dear. Jane watched the doctor’s expression carefully as she gave a noncommittal, “Hmm. Yes, he’s been reacquainting himself with the countryside.”
Victoria’s face betrayed a flicker of disappointment, but to give credit to her restraint, she did not continue the line of questioning. Waving good-bye at the gate, Jane allowed Dr. Berridge to escort her across the Wiltons’ small park to her carriage.
“Dr. Berridge,” Jane began, “I find I like you. So, might I be impertinent for a moment?”
The young doctor glanced over at her, then replied, “I should be honored, my lady.”
“How is it you have not yet fixed your interest with Victoria?”
The young doctor blushed, but that was his only visible reaction. His response was equally measured, his voice pitched low. “Likely because she has not taken notice of my
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