Everything Goes With Tea
“Ann?”
“Hmmm?”
Ann is deep in thought about how pleasant the afternoon was, spending it with Anne over tea at the Union Cross Inn. She smiles as she brushes her hair and thinks about Aunt Anne and her wonderful meddling in Anne’s life. I should get her something nice to say ‘thank you’.
Catherine, a surprise visitor, sits on Ann’s bedroom floor, perusing her watercolor set for the perfect shade of blue.
“Are you going to that wedding tomorrow? Your land steward’s daughter and that …pig farmer?”
Ann abruptly sits up straight and turns to face Catherine, ready to blast her with a reprimand.
“Catherine! You sound like such a snob! Yes, of course I’m going! It’s an honor to be invited. Susannah is a very clever girl. And I’ve never met Thomas, but I’m guessing he’s an enterprising young man. As Miss Lister says, ‘sometimes, just occasionally, someone is born with a nobility of character that belies their lowly birth’, and that’s how she feels about Thomas. And if he’s good enough for her, then he’s good enough for me. So yes, I’m going, thank you very much!”
“Well you don’t have to get all huffy about it.”
“Well you don’t have to be such a snob about it.”
Ann turns back around in her chair and doesn’t catch the face Catherine makes.
“Are you going with Miss Lister?”
Ann’s hand with the brush pauses.
“Yes, I am. Why?”
Catherine looks curiously at Ann.
“What happened there, Annie?”
Ann stops and turns to face her again.
“What do you mean?”
“Well…you were at Shibden for several weeks… convalescing, …and then…suddenly…you were back home. Did something happen?”
Ann looks incredulously at Catherine.
“Wasn’t it obvious? It was time for me to come home, Catherine. My foot had mostly healed and I felt like I was…I don’t know, getting in the way. Miss Lister is a very busy woman, and she didn’t need to spend her time waiting on me and my ridiculous foot.”
“And that was it? I mean, rumor has it the constable accused her of all these…death…things. I could see why maybe you’d want to steer clear of her if she’s under suspicion.”
“He did accuse her of those things and they were completely unfounded! She had nothing to do with all this horrible business! And I wish people would just keep their thoughts to themselves instead of constantly spreading rumors that aren’t true! You should take the time to get to know Miss Lister for yourself and then you’d see she’s just not the type of person who would do such a thing!”
Catherine is slightly taken aback. Ann is never argumentative, she never raises her voice, and yet it’s happened multiple times in the space of a few minutes.
Ann looks off into the distance as she considers what little information she has around the deaths.
“It just seems like it’s all related somehow,” says Ann, deep in thought.
“What do you mean?” Catherine sets aside one specific color in the reject pile.
“Well…think about it. First, there’s the little boy who lost his leg in the carriage accident a few weeks ago. Little Henry Hardcastle. It was only a few days later that Christopher…ourcousin…who is rumored to have been driving the gig that caused the accident, is found dead in his barn. The constable rules it a murder.”
Catherine turns her attention to Ann. “You know….I’ve thought about that a lot. If Christopher was the driver of that gig, well…I mean…we all know how vulgar he can be, but I never thought he would be capable of something like that.”
“I know. And poor Henry. He’ll never be right again. He can’t work on his father’s farm like most lads do. How will he manage as he gets older?”
Catherine shrugs her shoulders and continues faffing about with Ann’s watercolor set.
Ann continues. “Then there’s that Sowden fellow…the one who leased a farm from Miss Lister. It’s widely known that he abused his wife and family for years, then suddenly he’s found dead on the side of a road, his neck broken. Also ruled a murder.”
“Rumor has it he got his comeuppance.” Ann half agrees with her.
“And then there was my attacker. I mean, if it hadn’t been for Miss Lister…who knows what would have become of me.” Ann resists the urge to tell Catherine that she believes it was the Reverend Ainsworth that attacked her in the woods.
“Well, you can thank the good Lord above that Miss Lister showed up when she did. Otherwise, …I can’t even think about it, Annie.”
“I know. I still have nightmares about it. But how? How does all this happen? This can’t all just be a coincidence. I think….I think somebody…one person… is doing it all… almost like it’s for vengeance or something.”
“The same person? Vengeance?”
“Yes.”
“But who in the world would know all three of those people? And what sort of disagreement would they have with them to do something so severe?”
“Well…I know Christopher and Mr. Ainsworth, but not Sam Sowden. Miss Lister knows Christopher and Sam Sowden, but not Mr. Ainsworth. It can’t be the Priestley’s, they don’t know Sam Sowden. And the list goes on. I can’t seem to find anyone that knows all three people. It’s so frustrating! There’s a connection somehow between the three and I just can’t see it. But the one thing I do know…all three of these people did something bad before they died. And that’s why I think someone is seeking vengeance.”
Catherine looks at Ann admiringly. “You should be the constable.”
Ann side-eyes her. “Pfft!”
“I think you’d be very good at it, Annie. I can see the wheels turning in your head.”
“And that gold cross…it looked so familiar. I have been wracking my brain, Catherine, but I just can’t…gah!”
“Have you mentioned any of this to the constable?”
Ann expresses her annoyance toward the constable, and men in general.
“Hardly. It’s unlikely he’d listen to me. I’m just a woman, remember?”
Catherine chuckles in unity. “I know what you mean. But in all honesty, your theory sounds the most plausible of all I’ve heard thus far.”
Ann chews on her thumbnail as she considers Catherine’s comment. Maybe she’ll speak with Anne about it during dinner. Ann suddenly remembers time is ticking and Anne is coming over very soon.
“Catherine, you have to go! I have to get ready!” Ann stands up and begins to polite urge Catherine toward the door.
Catherine jumps in surprise. “Ready for what?!”
“Miss Lister is coming over for dinner, and I have to get ready! Now shoo! Take those with you!”
Catherine juggles the selection of watercolors in her arms as Ann gently pushes her toward the door.
“Okay, okay! You don’t have to push me! Why is she coming over?” Ann now has her by the elbow as she escorts her down the stairs with a gentle tug.
“I need to thank her for all she did to help me with my ankle.”
“Well, keep me posted, okay? If she has any more information about the killings? Or any other good gossip.”
“Byyyyye, Catherine!” Ann pushes her out the front door and closes it with a ‘click’. She runs back up the stairs, a bounce in her step and humming a happy tune.
///////////////////////
“I really want to thank you, Anne.. again…for taking such good care of me.”
“Ah.” Anne smiles wide as she lifts her wine glass to her lips, gazing at Ann in her beautiful gown, her hair done up more formally, flowers in her bun.
“I know I’ve already said it many times, but I couldn’t have healed as well, or as quickly, without your help. I think you missed a trick, not being a doctor.”
Anne chuckles and reaches over to grasp her hand, then changes it to a pat to her knuckles when she remembers that James is still in the room.
“I would do it all again, given the chance.” Ann smiles lovingly at her, wondering how she got so lucky to have Anne Lister as her….her what?
“Is there a problem?”
Ann looks at her, slightly startled. “Sorry?”
“You looked a little confused just then. Is something wrong?”
“Oh.” Ann smiles and shakes her head. “Nothing that can’t wait. Oh! Are you still planning on going to the wedding tomorrow?”
“Of course! I hope you’re still planning on accompanying me. I know the Washington family lives on your land, but I’ll be sitting on Thomas’ side of the aisle in support, if that’s all right.”
“Of course. I’ve already explained it to Mr. Washington, it’s not a problem. I think they’re all just happy to have us there.”
Anne looks over at James and finds this may be a good time to do a little probing.
“James, I understand you’ll be Thomas’ best man tomorrow.”
James steps over to the table to top up the wine glasses, one hand behind his back.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s correct.”
“I wasn’t aware you knew each other.”
Ann eats quietly as she looks from Anne to James.
“Oh, yes, ma’am, we met some time ago on the road into Halifax.”
“I see. Seems like an out-of-the-way route to take from Crownest to Halifax, by way of the Shibden road.” Anne takes a sip of wine as she looks at James, Ann watching her, knowing she’s up to something.
James chuckles. “Oh, sometimes I take the long way around to get some exercise. Gets me out the house.”
“Did you know his father? Sam?”
“No, ma’am, I never met him. Very sad, though, what happened to him. Excuse me, I need to refill the decanter and check on dessert.” Anne detects a nervous twitch in his eyes.
Once he has left the room, Ann turns to Anne with a frown. “Is something up?”
Anne smiles and shakes her head. “Just me being inquisitive.”
Ann whispers, “About James?”
“Well…it’s just that his name has come up in conversation quite a bit lately. Things I didn’t know about him.”
“Like what?” Ann takes another bite of roast duck and potato.
Anne pauses mid-bite. “Well…I didn’t know he and Thomas were friends. Seems an unlikely pair.”
Ann shrugs. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Yes, but James is house staff. Thomas is outdoor labor…and a pig farmer at that. It just seems they would move in different circles.”
“Still not out of the realm of possibility.”
“Yes, but..see, Thomas told me they met in a pub. While Thomas was going to collect his father from one of his drunken stupors. So it’s highly likely James met Sam. But it seems they…James and Thomas… got to chatting and apparently (Anne lowers her voice to a whisper)…James was also from an abusive family. His father used to beat him…quite badly.”
“He was?” Ann is very surprised by this. “I didn’t know that.”
“So Thomas says. He said James’ father beat him so badly one time that he broke his arm.”
“Oh my goodness! That’s so awful! I had no idea.”
“Yes. Now perhaps he doesn’t remember meeting Thomas in the pub. Or perhaps Thomas forgot that he’d met James on the road to Halifax. Who knows. It’s all just…I don’t know…odd. Something’s not lining up.”
Ann takes a sip of what’s left of her wine. “Well, he’d better come back soon, I’m parched.”
“And then there’s the other thing…” Anne ruminates again, her knife and fork paused over her plate.
“What other thing?” Ann studies Anne, looking off in the distance, her mind churning over the events of the past few weeks.
“He was spotted. James was. Well, maybe…I’m not one hundred percent sure it was him. By William Hardcastle…on the road that day of the accident. If it was James, he had your pony, Nero. Apparently the beast was misbehaving rather badly…again. Hardcastle said something to him about it, in passing, and whoever this person was said something about it not being his horse, and that he wanted to shoot it. But he named the horse…Nero.”
Ann frowns. “James said that? About shooting it?”
“Well, if it was James. I don’t know. But who else would be in possession of your horse?”
“Well…” Ann runs through the list of people under her employ that would have reason to be riding around on Nero. “It could have been Mr. Nimitz, the gardener, but highly unlikely.
“I’ve never known James to take Nero out. Maybe he did take him out, perhaps to get some exercise and get out of the house.”
“Well, the important thing is, if it was James, he would have seen the Hardcastle’s just before the accident. And if it was him on the road, he may have seen the gig that caused the accident, and its driver.”
Ann pauses to think about this. “Well, should we ask him? James? Now?”
“No, no…I think we should leave it. I may mention it to the constable the next time I see him. I’m sure he’ll be stopping by again, probably to accuse me of stealing out of the poor box at the Minster, or some other ridiculous notion.”
Both ladies chuckle at the absurdity of it all.
Ann pauses again, the same odd feeling from before returning to her gut.
“It’s funny…”
“What? What’s funny?”
“After I came back from yours…after we…well, Mrs. Fenton was bringing me up to speed on all the gossip, and she mentioned that the Reverend Ainsworth called here to see me.”
“What? Here? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I…I know. I didn’t say anything because…well, we werent’ exactly on the best of terms….and because I didn’t want to upset you. And I hate to see you upset, Anne.” Ann reaches over to hold her hand, an apologetic look on her face.
Anne swallows her surprise at this new news, along with her jealousy and desire to bring this man back from the dead, just so she can kill him again.
“When was this?”
“Apparently, a few days after I was attacked.”
“What did he want?”
“To see me…to lay claim to me, I’m sure. But here’s the thing…he had a black eye.”
Ann watches that realization dawn in Anne’s dark eyes.
“A black…which eye?”
“His left.”
“Do you think…was it him?!”
“Makes sense, wouldn’t it?”
Anne sneers at the thought of Ainsworth coming anywhere near Ann. Her mind is traveling at a thousand miles per hour.
“Ann, this is…and then he gets killed…who…who told you this?”
“Mrs. Fenton. But here’s the thing. She didn’t actually talk to Mr. Ainsworth…James did.”
Anne’s head snaps up at the name. Ann and Anne look at one another, their eyes wide. Ann shakes her head and chuckles in disbelief.
“There’s nothing nefarious going on with James, Anne. He’s as sweet as pie, wouldn’t say boo to a goose! I’m sure there are reasonable explanations for why his name keeps popping up, but that’s a dead end. We need to move on to a different topic, our imaginations are starting to run wild.”
Ann sets down her fork and wipes her mouth with a napkin. She glances at Anne and decides this is the appropriate time for this question.
“Did you, um…” She looks over at the door to make certain it’s closed. “..bring your night things?”
Anne looks at her with a devilish smirk. “Of course I did. I’m guessing by now James has taken my trunk up to your guest bedroom.”
Ann rings the bell and James enters within seconds.
“Ma’am?”
“James, it’s getting late and Miss Lister and I are getting tired. Please ask Mrs. Fenton to bring up a tea tray to my room.”
“Right away, ma’am.”
Ann looks at Anne and flexes her eyebrows. “Everything goes with tea.”