Over the next few days, the Dunwick cottage was cleared of its guests. Rusty was the first to go, pressing Concordia’s and David’s hands in gratitude before stepping into the waiting carriage. “At last, I’ll have justice for my girl. Thank you.”
Concordia couldn’t help but notice that the knuckles of Rusty’s right hand were still swollen, and he winced as David returned the handshake. That must have been quite a punch.
The Gemmers left soon after, including Miss Farraday. Concordia pulled her aside as the children were being bundled into the carriage. She pressed a slip of paper in her hand, containing her Hartford address. “Write to me when you can. And let me know your decision, regarding what we discussed last evening.”
Miss Farraday had been surprised by Concordia’s offer to speak on her behalf to the lady principal at Hartford Women’s College about possible enrollment and a scholarship.
Her eyes had misted. “I thought my future would be with Will.”
“Your future is what you make of it,” Concordia had said. “I know you consider yourself too old. But it is not too late. I believe you would be well-suited for it.”
Miss Farraday smiled and tucked the paper in her glove. “Thank you, Mrs. Bradley. You have given me a great deal to consider.”
It was much a quieter household now, especially with no deputy sheriff coming for regular visits. Such tranquility was more conducive to Sir Anthony’s recuperation. As the doctor had predicted, David had made a rapid recovery from his unfortunate experience and was soon back to normal activities. Sir Anthony, however, remained confined to his bed. Lady Dunwick dutifully tended to her husband, but according to Charlotte, her chilly demeanor toward him was plain to see.
“I wonder if they will ever be reconciled,” Concordia said to David, as they sat on the porch at Crosswinds. They had been spending most of their time here, wanting to stay out from underfoot until they were due to leave the day after tomorrow. “She is still quite angry at Sir Anthony for putting honor above family.”
“For some families, honor is all they have left,” David said.
Concordia sighed.
“I’m sure they will find a way through this,” he said. “They are both reasonable people.”
“And both stubborn,” Concordia added. She was about to pick up her book again when she saw a pair of figures on the path. It was Gwen Ambrose and Captain Decker, who carried a small burlap bag.
After an exchange of greetings, Decker gave Concordia a smile that lit up his craggy face. “We’re all set for tomorrow.”
“Wonderful!” Concordia exclaimed.
“He won’t tell me what’s going on,” Gwen said, with a sideways look at her companion, “only to expect some company in the morning and to be prepared for an outing.”
“It’s a surprise,” Concordia said with a twinkle.
Captain Decker nodded to Gwen. “I’ll be taking you and Susie out for the day—some fishing and a visit to see Ike’s horses. That way the girl isn’t troubled by the commotion.”
“Commotion?” Gwen turned to David for clarification, but he merely grinned.
Decker passed the bag to David. “All done. I finished it with linseed oil. It came out beautifully.”
“What’s that?” Concordia asked, as David thanked him and tucked it aside.
“It’s a surprise,” David said, with a twinkle of his own.
Decker threw his head back and laughed. “You and the missus make a charming couple, I must say.”
The next day dawned clear and warm as Concordia and David, hamper from Marie’s kitchen over his arm, headed for the Ambrose property. Even from the path set well back from the road, they could hear the rattle of wheels as the carts began to arrive.
As they passed the hulking ruins of the old mansion, Gwen ran over to greet them.
“I see your company is arriving,” Concordia said.
Gwen laughed. “It looks as if all of Hassett Knoll is arriving on my doorstep. The captain tells me they are here to take down…this.” She waved a hand toward the old blackened house.
Concordia nodded. “It’s a welcome surprise, I hope?”
“I cannot believe it. I thought no one cared about us. To have so many… How did you do it?” Gwen dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron and gave Concordia a hug.
Concordia smiled as she recognized the broad-shouldered figure approaching them. “Thank the deputy sheriff and Captain Decker. They organized the entire enterprise. I merely made the suggestion.”
Gwen turned to the deputy, attired today in suspendered twill trousers and a faded-plaid work shirt. “I cannot begin to thank you, sir.”
Yates grimaced. “It was the least I could do, miss, after putting you and your niece through a grueling investigation. I deeply regret the distress I caused.”
Gwen blew out a breath. “You were only doing your job. I know that.”
Across the clearing, a team of men had already set to work, backing their carts up to the old house, pulling out saws and crowbars.
Captain Decker and Susie stood at the end of the path, waving frantically. “Susie is rarin’ to go, miss!” Decker called. “We should be off.”
David passed her the hamper. “For your picnic.”
Gwen took it with a lighthearted laugh. “I feel like such a lady of leisure!”
“We head back to Hartford first thing tomorrow morning, so we should say our goodbyes now,” David said. “We wish you all the best, Miss Ambrose.”
“You must write to us, and let us know how you are getting on,” Concordia said. “I enclosed our address in the lunch hamper.”
Gwen gave her a quick hug. “I will miss you, dear. Thank you so much, for all you have done.” With a final squeeze of Concordia’s hand, she hurried off to join Decker and Susie.
Concordia swallowed the catch in her throat as she watched her go. With a sigh, she turned back to Yates. “Any news of Mrs. Reese?”
Yates frowned. “One of the fishermen found an empty rowboat adrift near his dock, about thirty yards from the mill. He thought the storm had tossed it out in the current, but there was a lady’s shawl inside. We’ve searched the likely areas where Mrs. Reese might have launched it but haven’t found anything. Yet.”
Concordia shivered, and David pulled her close.
“We told Reese about it, hoping that might prompt him to make a full confession,” Yates went on.
“Were you successful?” David asked.
Yates rubbed his hands in satisfaction. “Indeed we were. Apparently, the man first attempted to kill Sir Anthony in the city and make it look like a traffic accident. When that didn’t work, he followed him out here—thanks to his employer—and tried again. He thought he had succeeded, in fact, with that blow to the head when Sir Anthony was alone in his sailboat. The boating excursion was his third attempt. He plied you all with the bromide-tainted cider, knowing it would be welcome after a warm morning out on the water, and waited until everyone was incapacitated. His plan was to dump Sir Anthony and the rest of you overboard and leave you to drown, then capsize the sailboat and wait for rescue, with a tale of woe about how he couldn’t save the others when the boat went over. Fortunately, Captain Decker and Mrs. Bradley were able to thwart his plan. Your efforts helped as well, Mr. Bradley. Reese didn’t count on a struggle.”
David grimaced. “But Nash lost his life. That must have happened while I was still unconscious.”
Concordia was feeling distinctly ill, listening to Yates recount the cold-blooded plan. “Can we go back to the cabin?” she asked in a thick voice.
David looked down at her pale face. “Of course.” He extended his hand to Yates. “Congratulations, sir. Nicely done.”
Yates smiled and hitched up his suspenders. “Time for me to get to work. Good day to you both.”
Leaning heavily upon David’s supportive arm, Concordia barely managed to reach the cabin hedges before she lost what little breakfast she had consumed that morning. He put her to bed with a cool, wet cloth to her forehead and let her sleep.
She awoke to the sound of twittering birds in the rose bushes outside her window. Cautiously, she sat up. Much better. The queasiness and fatigue were gone. She checked her watch. Noon! Heavens, she had slept the entire morning. She straightened her shirtwaist, put on her shoes, and brushed her hair.
David was sitting out on the porch swing, reading. He looked up with a smile as she sat down beside him. “Feeling better?” She nodded and clasped his hand. He squeezed back and searched her expression with anxious eyes. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Mercy, he must think women come equipped with an infallible “with-child” barometer. Although that would certainly be a time-saver. She chuckled. “Only after the doctor tells me. I’ll make an appointment when we get home. It may be too early to know. I want to be sure before we make any announcements.”
He gave her a wide smile as he gently brushed back her hair from her forehead. “I love you so. You will be a wonderful mother.”
She smiled. She wasn’t entirely confident about that, but the prospect didn’t frighten her as it had before.
“By the way, while you were sleeping, Charlotte stopped by with something.” He passed over a parcel wrapped in tissue paper.
She pushed aside the layers to find the ivory-and-lace layette she’d seen during the rummage sale sorting. “Oh, David! Isn’t it lovely?”
He smiled as he watched her smooth the delicate folds of the gown. “Charlotte said her aunt tucked it away for you when she noticed you admiring it. There’s a note.”
“So kind,” she murmured, plucking the card from the folds.
My dear Concordia,
I am grateful for all of your efforts on behalf of Sir Anthony. His life has been spared and the threat lifted from our family. The newspapers may still get wind of it, but we will face that difficulty if it comes.
I regret that you suffered unpleasantness during what is supposed to be the joyous occasion of your honeymoon. Please accept this small token of my appreciation, in anticipation of the next stage of your life. The child will be in for an adventure.
Yours Sincerely,
Susan
David leaned over the arm of the swing, reaching for the burlap bag Decker had dropped off the day before. “And here is something else, from me.”
Concordia lifted out the smooth, wood object whose much rougher form she’d wondered about for the past few weeks. It was a maple teething rattle, its rings interlocked on a stem that was knobbed at one end and had a small duck shape on the other.
“I carved it from a single piece of wood,” he added.
“It’s beautifully done.”
“I can’t take all the credit. Decker showed me how.”
“Your wood-carving skills have come a long way, Mr. Bradley.” She looked up at him, a gleam in her eye. “I’m sure there are a number of projects back home that would benefit from your newfound abilities.”
He laughed. “A cradle, perhaps?”
Concordia leaned against him with a contented sigh, looking out upon the bright, sparkling waters of the bay in the distance, listening to the cry of the gulls and the lapping of the waves.
What a perfect honeymoon.
THE END