Ten

A chill wind whipped around Torey’s ankles as she stepped outside to remove the clothes from the line. She’d made a deal with Mrs. Crawford that morning before leaving to take the children on their outing. Torey would accompany Simon only if Mrs. Crawford promised not to touch the rest of the laundry. With great reluctance, the woman had agreed. So now at nine o’clock, when everyone inside was going to bed, Torey was getting the last of the clothes off the line.

A few snowflakes blew, melting as soon as they settled on the ground. The presence of the first flakes of the year reminded Torey how good God had been to her. What if she’d never seen Mrs. Crawford praying through the window? More than likely, she’d be somewhere alone in the dark and cold—somewhere fighting for survival.

Apprehension slithered up Torey’s spine. She shuddered and quickly tossed a shirt into the basket, then reached for the next. Until a couple of months ago, she’d never been afraid of the dark. Now, she dreaded nightfall. She never knew what danger lurked in the shadows, and her imagination tended to run away with her.

In order to calm her quivering insides, Torey began to sing: “Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine. . . .” Was that a twig snapping? Torey jerked her chin, then closed her eyes in relief as she scanned the yard and found no one. “O what a foretaste of glory divine.”

Snap. She stopped. That was definitely a twig. Heart racing, she stood paralyzed with fear, not daring to turn around.

Snap. “What luck to find you outside.” Dread hit Torey’s stomach, knocking the breath from her. That mocking voice could only belong to one person.

Torey’s heart crashed to her toes. Her chest rose and fell in a defeated sigh. She turned. “Amos.”

He stood, barely discernable in the starless, moonless night. “You’ve been a very naughty girl,” he whispered.

“Please, Amos. Just leave me alone.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. There is too much at stake.”

“I told your man last week that I wasn’t going to make a fuss. I’m good for my word. Just leave me alone. I’ve made a new life for myself. I’m happy.”

“Doing menial labor?” he chuckled. “That’s hardly what a girl like you was made for.”

“I like working for the Crawfords.”

“The Crawfords?” He snickered. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you.”

Not understanding but definitely offended by his insinuating tone, Torey frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come now. A girl with your looks content with being a maid?”

“I don’t know what looks have to do with happiness, but I am very content with my position.”

“And what of Simon Crawford? No designs on him?”

“Simon? How do you know him?”

“Ah, so it is true.”

“What?” Wishing he’d stop being so evasive, Torey fought the urge to scream.

“I’ve heard on good authority that you’ve been keeping time with the young Mr. Crawford.”

Torey gasped. “That’s not true. I’m simply a hired servant in this household. And whoever told you otherwise is sadly mistaken or flat-out lying. Mr. Crawford has no interest in me beyond a servant-employer relationship.”

“I’ll just bet.”

Indignation darted through her. “Don’t judge everyone by your own low morals. Simon is a Christian and a gentleman.”

“Ah, I see you do hold him in high regard.” He waved away her protest before it could be voiced. “Regardless, your feelings for him won’t matter. You’re coming home with me immediately. I have plans for you, or have you forgotten?”

He reached forward and snatched her arm.

“No!”

“Keep your voice down,” he snarled.

“I’m not going with you.” Torey’s voice was surprisingly steady. “If you attempt to kidnap me, I’ll scream. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll run away at the earliest opportunity.”

“Make no mistake. You are coming home with me. And you won’t run away.” He stood over her, his sneering face close enough for her to smell the after-dinner brandy on his breath. “Do you want to know why you won’t run away or attempt to call out?”

His fingers bit painfully into her arm, and her bravado crumbled. “W–why?”

“Because. . .”

The back door opened, and much to Torey’s relief, Nat appeared. “Miss Torey?”

With a muttered profanity, Amos released her arm and disappeared behind the gazebo.

“Yes, Nat?” Torey’s voice trembled.

“Miz Crawford asked me to come and see about you. Says it’s taking too long to bring in the clothes. Says she’s worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll hurry.”

“I’ll help.”

Oh, Lord Jesus, thank You for Your hand of protection.

“Thank you, Nat.” Cringing at the poorly attempted lilt in her voice, Torey quickly pulled the rest of the clothing from the line. “You can carry the basket.”

Once safely inside the kitchen, Torey’s legs refused to hold her. The room spun, and she heard Nat’s concerned voice just before he dropped the basket and lunged for her.

Then there was only darkness.

❧

Simon paced the hall outside Torey’s bedroom door, wishing the doctor would come out and tell him what was wrong with her. If he’d had any doubts that he was beginning to care for her as a man cares for a woman, this episode had erased them. He wanted to be in there, holding her hand, feeling the pulse beating beneath the delicate skin on the underside of her wrist, and knowing she was going to live.

The door opened, and Mother walked out. Simon hustled to her. “Well? How is she?”

“She’ll be fine. The doctor said it was a simple faint. Smelling salts brought her right around.”

Relief flooded Simon’s chest. He leaned against the wall. “Thank the Lord.”

“Yes.” Mother gave him a knowing smile. “You’re in love with her?”

Heat crept up Simon’s neck. “Don’t make it more than it is for now.”

“But you admit you care for her.”

Unable to resist a grin, Simon nodded. He felt giddy inside just admitting such a thing. “I’ve never felt this way about a young lady before.”

“You couldn’t do any better than Torey.”

“If I could only be sure. Sometimes, I can forget that there are things I don’t know about her—things like, why was she wandering around the city half-starved the night I found her outside our window?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “But at other times, I worry about her reasons for being here. What if it’s just a little more than coincidence that she showed up a mere two weeks after Father’s death?”

“Hogwash.”

“Sometimes I agree, and I consider myself a suspicious fool for even thinking it about her. But at other times. . .” He shrugged. “I just don’t know.”

Mother reached forward and patted him. “Son, I know your father’s death hit you hard. But you have to learn to trust people again. Remember, just a week ago, Torey knelt in our library and asked the Lord to cleanse her. She repented of anything she’s ever done, and God made her a new creature in Christ Jesus.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“No, I’m asking, how would you feel if she were somehow close to your father’s death?”

“I’d feel like she deserves prison!” What was Mother getting at? She knew something about Torey. Surely this wasn’t it.

She held up her hand. “I assure you, Torey had nothing to do with it. But until you’re willing to look beyond what she may have been before you met her, you’re not ready to truly love her for the woman she is today.”

The door opened again before Simon could respond to his mother’s remark. Dr. Everson smiled. “Your maid will be fine.”

“What caused her to faint?” Simon asked.

“She had herself a good scare, that’s all.” His eyes squinted in amusement. “You might want to let her do her work during the day and let her stay inside at night from now on. I think she has a healthy fear of the dark. Asked me to leave her light burning.”

“Thank you,” Simon said, feeling foolish that he’d been so worried. “We’ll remember that.”

The doctor gave him a knowing wink and handed him a bottle of smelling salts. “You might keep these on hand just in case she faints again. She’s still a little shaky.”

“Honestly, Davis Everson, don’t tease my son. You’ll scare him away from the first girl he’s shown any real interest in.” Mother clucked her tongue at the ornery doctor. She held out her hand. “Simon, give me the salts.”

With a scowl, Simon handed them over. “Thank you for coming, Doctor. Mother will see you out.”

Needing to be alone with his thoughts, Simon went to his room and sat wearily on his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knee. A knock at his door brought him upright. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Nat stood at the threshold, his gaze darting from the floor to Simon and back to the floor. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Sir.”

Simon stood. “Not at all. Please, come in.” He motioned to a chair next to his desk. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s about Miss Torey.”

“What do you mean?” Simon’s defenses alerted.

“I seen her talking to someone outside when I opened the door. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she sounded real scared.”

Alarm swept through Simon. “Where did the person she was talking to go?”

A shrug lifted his massive shoulders. “I don’t see so well in the dark, Sir. I just seen him take off, lickety-split. And poor Miss Torey finished up as fast as her little fingers could work. I reckon she was so scared she up and fainted.”

Simon considered the new information for a minute. “Nat, I am giving you another assignment. I’ll be happy to pay you more, but in addition to keeping an eye on my mother, I’d like you to look after Miss Mitchell.”

“What if your ma sends her off again, like she did the other day when she took your lunch? I can’t be in two places at one time.”

“Don’t worry about that. I intend to discuss this with my mother. She’ll be made aware of the very real danger Miss Mitchell might be in.” He reached out his hand, and Nat took it in a bone-crushing shake. “I believe I can convince her to cooperate given these circumstances.”

“I think it’s real good you want to protect Miss Torey,” Nat said softly. “Some folks need more looking after than others.”

Clearing his throat, Simon searched Nat’s face for evidence the man was insinuating Simon might have special feelings for the girl. He didn’t need the entire household privy to the information just yet. When he found only concern and approval in the man’s eyes, Simon nodded. “I do want to ensure Miss Mitchell’s safety. But there is another reason I want you to keep an eye on her.”

“And what reason is that?” Nat narrowed his gaze, his voice hesitant as though he wasn’t sure he liked where Simon was headed.

“I’d like you to tell me if she talks to anyone you don’t know. If she does anything strange. If she acts suspicious in any way.”

“You think Miss Torey is a scoundrel?” Nat lifted himself to his full height and scowled down at Simon. “If that’s what you think, you’re mistaken. Miss Torey is a God-fearing girl with a real good heart. I suspect she’s been through a rough time of it. But that don’t make her bad folk by no means.”

Startled by the bodyguard’s lack of respect, Simon gave him a stern glance. “I’m not saying she’s a scoundrel, Nat. I’m simply saying I have my reasons for you to keep an eye on her. If she’s as innocent as you believe, there will be nothing to report back to me, will there? On the other hand, watching her will keep her safe in the event someone—the man you saw tonight, for instance—is out to harm her.”

Pausing only for a moment, Nat nodded slowly. “Yes, Sir. I’ll keep watch over her. But mostly to protect her. If she does something that looks suspicious, I’ll tell you. But I don’t think she will.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

❧

Torey couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined sinister sounds and shadows outside her window or right inside her room. She knew Amos couldn’t get inside the house without causing a ruckus, but her fear-gripped mind couldn’t stop conjuring all the scenarios by which he might be capable of coming after her. Terror seized her, despite the presence of the light she’d requested be left on.

When the downstairs clock struck three, she decided to go to the library and get a book to read. She needed something lighthearted and sweet to get her mind off of the wretched reality of Amos and his presence outside earlier.

Something written by Jane Austen, perhaps.

Slipping into dressing gown and house shoes, Torey made her way down the stairs. Her mind continued to swirl, though she desperately wished for peace. If only she could find a way to make Amos agree to leave her alone. What purpose did he have for her? He seemed surprised she was working for the Crawfords, as though he hadn’t known that this was their home, and yet he had mentioned Simon. Confusion held her fast, and no matter how hard she tried to figure it out, the truth eluded her.

She went straight to the section of shelves that held the books written by Jane Austen. After selecting Sense and Sensibility, one of her favorites, she decided to sit in the chair in front of the warm fire, in which still burned glowing embers. She sighed as she began, her mind slowly switching gears from the fearful images of Amos abducting her to a gentler world, where the girl always got her man in the end.

She read until her eyes grew heavier and heavier. Just as she was dozing off, she sensed movement by the door and jerked awake with a gasp.

“Miss Mitchell?” Simon stood in the doorway fully clothed, though rumpled in appearance. “What are you doing up at this late hour? Or early morning hour, to be more precise.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to get a book.”

“The coals have practically gone out. You must be freezing in just a nightdress and dressing gown.”

Heat suffused her cheeks at his reference to her attire, particularly when she hadn’t replaced Georgia’s nightdress with one of her own yet, so her ankles stuck out from beneath it. Simon kept his gazed focused away from her bare flesh.

“Yes, Sir. I am cold. I was so enthralled in my book that I didn’t notice how cold the room was becoming.” She walked toward him, knowing she’d have to pass him to get through the door.

As she reached him, he cleared his throat. “Miss Mitchell, if I may be so bold. . .”

“Yes?” His nearness wreaked havoc on her ability to focus.

“The doctor said you were terrified, and that’s why you fainted earlier.”

Glancing at the floor, Torey nodded. “I am rather afraid of the dark, I’m embarrassed to say.”

Narrowing his gaze, he peered harder, and Torey got the keen sense he was trying to somehow read her expression, tone of voice, anything to discover what he was sure she was hiding from him. “Is there anything you’d like to discuss with me? If you’re in trouble or anything. . .”

“Simon, there is nothing I want to discuss with you at this time. But I appreciate your asking. Though I don’t know why you would, given my position in your household.”

He wrapped his fingers around her forearm. “Because I care about you. If your fear had anything to do with something more than the dark, I’d hope you would feel comfortable enough to come to me and share your concerns.”

Torey knew he was anxiously hoping she’d confess something to confirm or deny his suspicions. But she couldn’t right now. Besides, she’d promised Mrs. Crawford she wouldn’t tell Simon or anyone else about Amos killing that poor man. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Crawford, but I can’t divulge more than you know for now.”

His thumb caressed her arm. His gaze took in hers with an intensity that stole Torey’s breath away. “Mr. Crawford, please. . .”

He took a step closer. “A moment ago you called me Simon.”

“I–I did?”

Nodding, he reached forward and brushed back a strand of loose hair from her cheek. “You have lovely hair.”

“Thank you, Mr. Crawford, but really. . .”

“Simon,” he said softly, his gaze moving across her face and settling upon her lips.

“What?”

“I wish you’d call me Simon. Mr. Crawford sounds so formal.”

“And proper.” Torey drew herself up to her full height. Her knees felt like they might not hold her, and her insides quivered wildly, but she knew she had to draw a line. With a determination born of a desire to keep things properly balanced between them, given their stations in life, she pulled her arm from his grasp.

“This isn’t proper, Mr. Crawford.”

“Maybe I want to court you. Would that be proper?” He didn’t try to reach for her arm again; instead he leaned back against the doorframe.

Her heart slammed against her chest wall. “You want to court me?”

He nodded. “What do you think?”

“Oh, Simon. Not now.” She leaned wearily against the other side of the doorframe, facing him.

“Of course not now. It’s much too early in the morning.”

His boyish grin nearly did her in, but she bolstered her resolve with the memory of Amos’s sneering face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Crawford. It just isn’t possible.”

“I think it is possible. Mother and Katherine are here to keep us properly chaperoned.”

Torey glanced around pointedly, then turned her gaze back to him. “Oh, really? Where are our chaperones now?”

His cheeks colored. “Well, they’re not here at this second; but believe me, if we were courting, we’d never have chances alone like this. I wouldn’t put it past Katherine to sleep outside of your door just to be sure things are kept decent.”

Torey giggled but sobered almost immediately. “I am honored by your invitation, and if circumstances in my life were different, nothing could persuade me to refuse your attentions.”

Disappointment crossed his features. His face paled. “You care about me too. I can tell.”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Torey nodded. “I don’t know if it’s because, until Robert moved in, we were the only two young people in the house and so it was just natural for us to drift toward each other, or if we would have had a fondness for each other anyway. But the fact remains that it’s simply not possible at this time.”

Simon shrugged. “All right. I will accept your decision. But I hope you will feel you can confide in me soon.”

“I hope so too, Simon. I really hope so. Good night.”

With a heavy heart, Torey climbed the stairs to her room. She was aware of Simon’s gaze on her as she ascended the steps. And she appreciated that he did her the courtesy of remaining downstairs until she had reached her door.

Simon asking to court her should have made tonight one of the happiest moments of her life. Such a wonderful occurrence after the splendid time they’d had with the children earlier, buying clothes, eating out for lunch. At first the children hadn’t seemed to believe they were really getting new clothes, but when the hackney stopped in front of the clothing store, they slowly began to believe, and the excitement built from there.

Climbing into bed, now close to dawn, Torey closed her eyes and relived the encounter with Simon. He sincerely wanted to court her. No dalliance with the hired girl. Courting led to marriage in most cases. Simon was falling in love with her.

Squeezing her eyes tightly, she prayed for all she was worth.

Oh, Lord. Please, if it’s Your will, let Simon be patient a bit longer. Perhaps long enough for the police to figure out Amos is the one responsible for that poor man’s murder. I can’t let our hearts get any more involved in this relationship for now. Not until Amos is no longer a threat to our happiness.

About Amos, Lord—please protect me from him, and show me what to do. . .