Lady in the Mist - Laurie Alice Eakes [49]
“What is that?”
“If the name of the child’s father is in question.”
Dominick took a moment to understand her meaning. “Because she’s unwed.”
“Yes.”
“And you have a patient who told you who the father of her child is.”
“Yes.”
“But you can’t tell me?” he pressed.
“If things go badly with me before the council tomorrow, I can’t tell anyone.”
“You’re going before the council?”
“Wilkins’s doing.” She grimaced. “My qualifications have been called into question after all these years.”
“And you’re losing sleep over it.” Dominick slowed their pace. He saw the house now, a neat white cottage with a walled garden to protect the plants from the sea. The trees cast shade over house and wall, looking cool and inviting, but he didn’t want to reach the gate. Even if she invited him into her home, her servants sat behind those walls, and he wanted Tabitha to himself for a few more minutes.
Tabitha didn’t slow with him. “Come inside. I’ll remove those stitches.”
“Wait.” He stopped, still holding her hand.
“I don’t wish to discuss it further.” She faced him. “I’ve already said more than I should.”
She’d certainly said enough for him to work things out and know her very real danger.
“I don’t want to discuss your patient.” He smiled and brushed a lock of hair from her brow. “I want you to say yes to accompanying me to the fete.”
“I don’t go to the festival anymore.” She avoided his eyes. “It holds . . . memories.”
“Of Raleigh Trower?”
“What do you know of Raleigh?”
“Know of him?” Dominick chuckled. “We’ve met. But I’ll let him discuss that encounter. Far be it from me to be a tale bearer. But don’t let it be far from me to have you come with me, if it won’t be a disgrace for you to be seen with a redemptioner.”
She released his hand and folded her arms across her chest. “I suppose I don’t need to ask if you have the price of the tickets.”
He straightened his shoulders. “Of course you needn’t ask. I do and then some.”
“Will you go if I do not accompany you?”
He studied her face for a moment, trying to judge how he should answer. Certain he caught a twinkle in one bloodshot eye, he said, “No, I couldn’t.”
“All right then. I’ll go with you.” Answer given, she turned on one bare heel and marched toward her gate.
He followed. “What changed your mind?”
“The idea of an Englishman contributing to the welfare of American sailors.” She laughed, a sparkling fall of notes in the still afternoon.
Dominick laughed too. If she only knew.
13
______
Tabitha wished she had bitten her tongue rather than make such an outburst in front of Dominick. At the present, spouting her distrust of God’s motives for her life was not a wise action, especially to the man who worked for the mayor, who was bonded to the mayor.
“Remember that bit of it,” she muttered to herself as she wiped a few bread crumbs off of the kitchen table and spread a clean towel over it. “His loyalty lies with the mayor.”
Or England.
At that moment, his loyalty to the mayor concerned her more than his loyalty to England. She must remember not to trust him, that he wasn’t a friend, however much she must pretend to like him.
She wished she pretended to like him. She’d wanted to burrow into the sand like a crab when she heard his voice behind her on the beach. He’d seen her with her hair down and her toes bare like some slovenly maidservant.
Yet his eyes had expressed admiration, then concern.
That concern had nearly undone her. Only years of her mother’s training had stopped her from resting her head on his shoulder and weeping from fatigue and fear and frustration.
He was just another one of God’s cruel jokes upon her life—a man she could let herself care about, if he weren’t a bondsman who would leave as soon as his indenture ended, and an Englishman who couldn’t be trusted.
The time had come to encourage Raleigh’s courtship.
Except she’d said she would go to the festival with