The entire drive back to the Yarnsby estate, Thomas went over and over in his head the conversation with Father Matthews. It was the third time he’d met with the priest to discuss the possibility of joining the priesthood. Each time, the priest had been adamant, that it if was his calling, he would know without hesitation.
A part of him figured it was his part in someone’s death that drove him. However, guilt being the driving factor was not a good reason to join the church. In that moment, Thomas felt compelled to wait and allow time to make things clearer.
Thankfully, that day the priest had not been as insistent to know what his decision was. Instead, Father Matthews brought up why Thomas had moved there and asked about his life prior to coming to Berkhamsted.
Although there was plenty to tell him, Thomas did not feel ready to reveal everything. There were days when he wished to relieve himself of the burden of what he held inside. It was the right thing after all, as a Catholic, he should confess the sins of his past that he carried with him.
Long before arriving, he’d spoken to the priest at the church where he’d grown up but stopped short of confession.
His roguish ways of the past, had come with a price, not only was a woman dead, but he’d hurt many people. What he’d considered fun in the past, he was now deeply ashamed of.
Thomas’ father often said that the burden of guilt was sometimes the hardest punishment one could live with.
And yet, despite the looming cloud, over his head, that rarely dissipated, Thomas wasn’t sure he was prepared to speak about it to Father Matthews. The hesitation was perhaps a sign he wasn’t truly ready for or right for the priesthood.
Then there was the new situation, the appearance of a beautiful woman, the likes of which he’d never seen before. Mary Asher.
Her brown skin was so distractingly beautiful. With a combination of amber colored eyes and midnight black hair, she was like a rare alluring jewel. Then there were the additional distractors of plush lips and sensual husky voice.
Thomas shook his head and inhaled deeply. A feeling of calmness came over him whenever he was in Mary’s proximity. Of course, she barely noticed him, which was understandable. Mary was like a part of his employer’s family, and he a mere coachman.
Upon arriving at the house, he helped Mrs. Yarnsby from the carriage. The beauty gave him a soft smile. “Thank you, Thomas. The drive home was delightful.”
“I ensured to go a different route so you could see different landscapes,” he admitted.
When he turned to help Mary out, his breath caught at the sight of her. There was a softness about her that brought out a protective nature. At the same time, her quiet strength gave him pause. Unlike women he’d met before, Mary didn’t seem to have a problem speaking her mind, nor did she come across as a wilting flower who fawned over his looks.
If he were to be honest, she intimidated him a bit.
“Thomas?”
He turned to find Moira standing with a hand on her hip. “Harold wanted me to tell you to come to the stables as soon as you return.”
Moira’s husband, Harold, the groundskeeper and overseer of the estate, was a fair man when it came to work duties and responsibilities. Thomas admired the man and had become close to him since arriving.
Thomas drove the carriage to the stables and began unhitching the horses just as Harold walked out. The man helped him lead the horses into the stalls so that they could be watered and fed. “How did they do?”
“They worked well as a team. If I hadn’t known that they’d never been together, I would not have guessed. They became a bit restless while we waited for the ladies, so I took them around the village. Once that was completed, they settled,” Thomas informed Harold.
“I am glad to hear it,” Harold replied, his expression somewhat pensive.
Thomas studied the man. “Is something wrong?”
“Two men came here earlier,” Harold said, looking toward the house. “They asked about you by name. I didn’t tell them you worked here, only that I knew you and that you came by sometimes to do work.”
A chill traveled up Thomas’ spine. “Why did you not tell them I worked here?”
“I got a strange feeling about them. They did not seem friendly at all.” Harold studied him. “Seems to me they have some sort of grudge, by the way they said your name. With disdain.”
“Did they give you their names?”
Harold shook his head. “No.”
Glad that he’d taken a different route from the village, Thomas could only give thanks to heaven for it. If they had come across them, he had no idea what could have happened.
Thomas shook his head. “Can you describe them?
The older man frowned in concentration. “English, dark hair and eyes the same. They came in a wagon being pulled by one horse.” Harold made a motion with his right hand down the side of his cheek. “One had a scar on his cheek, as if he’d been cut.”
At once, Thomas knew who they were. He hung his head, letting out a long breath, his stomach clenching in frustration. “I will tell you,” he said.
“Go on, son. Sit down,” Harold said, motioning to a pair of stools at the opposite side of the stable.
They sat and Thomas let out a long breath. “I was a wee lad when I came to England from Ireland, we settled in the south. Growing up I had a good life. My father bought some land and farmed it. My mother is an accomplished seamstress and was soon in high demand in our village. Because my parents did well, my sister and I never wanted for anything.”
He looked into the man’s eyes. “Unfortunately, I took advantage of the fact the young women of the village considered me handsome and a good catch. Soon I gained a reputation for being the town rogue.”
“I can imagine your parents did not care for it.”
Thomas nodded. “My father put me to work, did his best to keep me in hand. Mother, well, mostly she prayed.” His chest constricted. “One day I met a young woman named Catherine. She was quite pretty and… willing. After knowing her for several weeks, she began demanding I marry her. I was a cad and told her I never had any feelings for her.”
At Harold incredulous look, Thomas continued. “It was cruel. I said it because I wanted her to dislike me and not keep making demands.”
“When did this happen?” Harold asked.
“Almost two years ago.” Thomas let out a breath. “She sobbed and begged me to stay with her. I refused. The following week, she was dead. Drowned.”
Harold shook his head. “Her family blames you.”
“Of course. I do believe it was my fault. Her brothers let it be known they would kill me. It was then, my father insisted I go away. I didn’t wish to run, but my parents insisted I leave. I am not sure how they came to find me here.”
“Do you think she drowned herself because of you?” Harold asked.
Thomas shrugged. “I heard rumors that she and her parents had a horrible row. One overheard her father tell her he wished her dead. Those are just rumors. My mother was told she was involved with another man while with me. I am not sure if it is true or they hoped to ease my burden of guilt.”
“What are you going to do? Do you wish to leave?”
Thomas shook his head. “I am not running any longer. I will face them.”
Harold was thoughtful. “I agree, it will not end until you clear things with them. I pray they will listen to reason. I am sure if they go into the village and ask, they will be told you work here. Depends on how many people know you by name.”
“I go to the village often, it will not be hard for them to find out I am the Yarnsby’s driver.”
“There is nothing to do but wait. I will speak to Mr. Yarnsby. Unfortunately, he may consider it too dangerous for his wife that you remain.”
His stomach tumbled at the thought of having to start again. He managed to save most of his earnings mainly because he was unsure how long he’d remain at each job he managed to acquire. “I understand. May I speak to him first?”
“Yes, of course.”
Mary wasn’t at the supper table when Thomas and Harold joined Moira and Lottie that evening. It was not unusual as she often ate with the Yarnsby’s.
“Thomas, how was your venture into the village today?” Moira asked. “Where are the things I asked for.”
“I left them in the carriage. I will get them.”
“Eat first,” Moira said. “The food is getting cold.”
After the meal, he retrieved Moira’s items as well as the parcels for Mrs. Yarnsby and Mary. He then went through the foyer to find a place to leave the parcels, the ladies had acquired in the village. There was a side table and he placed them on there with care.
Deciding it was best to get things over with, Thomas went to Mr. Yarnsby’s study and stood at the doorway.
The man sat at his desk scribbling notes in a ledger and looked up sensing him. “Good evening Thomas.”
Since first meeting Alexander Yarnsby, Thomas had liked the man. Unlike most wealthy people, he didn’t hold himself above them. Before marrying, he’d eaten meals with the staff in the kitchen, claiming to not like eating alone in the dining room. Now he prayed the man’s humanity would help in his situation.
“Sir, I have a problem that I wish to speak to you about, if you have the time.”
“Of course,” Yarnsby motioned for him to enter the study. The room was bright during the day and at night, one could see the stars, as one wall was all windows.
He waited for his employer to round the desk and to sit in a chair opposite him before beginning.
“What is it Thomas?”
The dryness in his throat made Thomas clear it. “Men came here looking for me today. They asked Harold if I worked here and he denied it because he got a bad feeling about them. I am not sure what they plan, but I fear it is not good. They will return to look for me, I am sure of it.”
“Who are they?”
He hung his head for a moment, hating to have to admit to his roguish ways and the consequences, once again. “Brothers of a woman, whom I had a relationship with.”
“I see,” Yarnsby replied. “Am I to assume she was compromised, and they seek for you to make things right?”
He met the man’s gaze and nodded. “I am not proud of my past and how little I considered the impact it had on others. Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do that can ever repair any damage in this case.”
“What happened?”
He took a deep breath and swallowed. “She drowned, and her family says it was done on purpose, as she was brokenhearted over me not wishing to continue the relationship.”
Yarnsby stood and looked out into the night. “It is not your fault. Her act, if it was indeed because of you, was her choice.”
“How can I make her brothers understand that?” Thomas said. “I do not blame them for how they feel. And I do feel responsible. If someone did the same to my sister, and as a result, she took her life, I would want revenge, whether justified or not.”
They remained in silence for a long moment; finally, Yarnsby turned to him. “How dangerous are these men?”
“In all honesty, I grew up knowing them and never saw any kind of hostility between them and anyone. I shouldn’t have allowed my parents to convince me to leave my home. Running gave them a stronger impression that I am responsible for what happened.”
“They were worried about you,” Yarnsby said sitting again. “If I was in your place, I would feel the same. In all honesty, this conversation makes me think about my past as well. Although I did my best to keep relationships from becoming too deep, there were several times, breaking away was tough.”
“I understand if you ask me to go. I do not wish to put you and Mrs. Yarnsby in harm’s way.”
“I surely doubt it will come to that,” Mr. Yarnsby said. “Perhaps, we should find the men and speak to them directly. It may be the only way for this to end and for you to stop looking over your shoulder.”
Relief swept over him, and Thomas lowered his shoulders at sharing the burden. “I agree.”
Mr. Yarnsby met his gaze. “You have not been in my employ long, but already I can tell you are a good man. I have no doubt that if you could repair things with this woman, you would.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Thomas made his way out to the stables to check the horses one last time. He’d promised Harold to do so, so the older man could go to bed early as he’d been complaining about back pains.
Thankfully the full moon allowed plenty of light so Thomas could see. Once inside the stables, he lit a lantern and hung it on a hook.
The horses were restless, making soft noises at his presence. In the nearest stall, the horse pawed the ground, the animal’s eyes wide. “What’s the matter?” Thomas said in a soft tone. “Is there a wee beastie about that makes you nervous?” He stroked the animal’s nose. “Let me look.”
Just as he reached the stall door, movement caught his attention. Two men appeared from the shadows blocking the entrance to the stables.
“You can’t run this time Thomas Sullivan,” one of them said.
He looked to one and then the other. “I heard you were here earlier. Can we talk?”
“We didn’t come here to talk. But to make things right. You killed our sister, and now you will pay with your own life.”
The familiar faces were twisted in fury, both seeming to enjoy the moment. Thomas knew it would be hard to win against both. One perhaps, but not two angry men.
“As I told you back then. I regret what happened. Your sister seemed to understand why we could not continue the relationship. She was sad, but I do not believe to the point of killing herself.”
The eldest brother sneered. “Our sister is dead. You killed her.”
It was of no use to attempt to convince them otherwise. Thomas blew out a breath and prepared to defend himself.