Lady in the Mist - Laurie Alice Eakes [51]
Security she would never receive from Dominick Cherrett, bondsman, Englishman.
She stepped out of arm’s length, allowing his hands to fall to his sides. “I’ll stop being distressed if God remembers I exist and takes care of matters. Now you’d best be going. Your master wouldn’t like me being the cause of you getting in after sundown.”
He flinched as though she’d struck him. In a way, she had with her reminder of his servant status. She might often be treated as no better than a housemaid or perhaps respected housekeeper, but she was a free woman. Pointing out that he was not free to come and go as he pleased set a barrier between them.
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was cool and so very English. “Shall I have Kendall send your fee? I do presume a bondsman doesn’t have to pay for his own care.”
“Mayor Kendall will pay me.” Though she knew doing so was unkind, she added, “He’s always done so with his redemptioners.”
“Then I bid you good evening.” He spun on his heel with military precision and stalked to the door. When he opened it, a blast of mist-laden air swirled into the room, cold and smelling of the sea and her garden. She expected him to simply walk out without another word, but just before he closed the portal behind him, he flashed his beguiling grin. “You’ve still promised to go to the fete with me . . . even if I am low company for you.”
The door closed. Tabitha remained where she was, her gaze fixed on the panel as though she could see through it, could see his retreating form tall and straight as his long legs ate up the distance to the gate.
The gate where someone had waylaid her with a knife.
She pressed her fingers to her throat. It should be him. She wanted it to be him. Anyone else who might fear some knowledge she could have unwittingly gleaned from being about that night was someone she’d known all her life—a neighbor, a friend, a patient.
But blaming Dominick without proof wasn’t fair. She was merely struggling against her attraction to him, warning herself to break off all contact. Yet how else could she work out what he was up to along the shore if she didn’t spend time in his company? If matters went badly for her with the council, she would need a way to restore her good name, her reputation, her position of respected woman in the community. If she could find out who lay behind the disappearances, if Dominick truly was a participant who could lead her to answers and a way to stop the abductions, no one would listen to Harlan Wilkins.
From the moment Tabitha walked into the town hall, her back straight, her head high, her knees wobbling, to present herself before the council, she knew the men had been listening to Harlan Wilkins a great deal. Only Mayor Kendall, residing at the head of the long table, did not look upon her with censure. He rose, drew out a chair, and set a glass of water before her, though a manservant—not Dominick—hovered nearby to perform these tasks for the council.
“We just need to ask you a few questions,” Kendall said in a gentle voice. “You do understand why we’ve called you here.”
“Yes, sir.” She refrained from glaring at Wilkins.
He sat at the opposite end of the table, his dark eyes narrowed, his jaw bunched. If he’d been closer, she feared she would have lost her temper and thrown her water in his face. He deserved worse, but that wasn’t her place.
“Mr. Wilkins has accused me of being unqualified to practice my profession,” she continued. And dared not take her to court for fear of what she might testify about his actions. “He wishes to have me censured from practicing.”
“What do you have to say for yourself regarding these charges, Miss Eckles?” Kendall asked.
“You’ve said it all right there.” Wilkins surged to his feet. “She is Miss Eckles, not Mrs. Eckles. She shouldn’t be allowed to deliver babies when she hasn’t borne one herself.”
“Many women who have never borne children are midwives.” Tabitha spoke those words calmly, out of practice. She’d been challenged on her status since taking over her mother