you have every right to feel, make the situation more difficult. Tearlach is a fair man. He needs a woman to help raise his sister. I may not agree with the manner in which he has gained a teacher for her, but I can understand what motivates the man. If you cannot still your anger at Tearlach, I but ask that you keep it aimed at him alone and do not prick the child with it.”
She could agree to that without qualm, and she nodded. When he was gone she immediately wished him back. Talking with Corbin had diverted her, had kept her mind from preying upon all the hurts she had been dealt.
She retrieved her lockpick from the hidden pocket in her cloak and stared at it. It was still possible for her to escape. The question was—to where? Nathan had said he was going to Philadelphia, but she knew that once he met up with his customs-running friends he could have gone anywhere. There was also the fact that she had no coin, no clothes, no food, and no horse. Neither did she know anyone who might be willing to help her escape.
With a heavy sigh, she put the lockpick back in her pocket and sat down. The best thing to do was to stay where she was. The thought of escape had helped her survive the ordeal of imprisonment and trial, but she now accepted that it had been a foolish idea. When she thought of what the people of Worcester now believed about her, escaping into the wilderness was almost an attractive prospect. And eventually Nathan would find her and help her. The minutes dragged by and she found herself hoping that Tearlach O’Duine would not take too long to carry her off into servitude.
Two days after the trial, Tearlach eased his long frame into a heavy oaken chair in Corbin Matthias’s parlor and smiled crookedly at his friend. “I am here for my servant.”
Corbin served them each some wine before sitting opposite Tearlach. “Do not taunt her by calling her servant, Tearlach. She has some pride. Neither does she deserve such humiliation. She was wrong, even though her reasons for doing all she did were most admirable, but this punishment is harsh.”
“She made no attempt to elude it.”
“Aye, I know. That tiny woman has more honor and loyalty in her heart than her whole family plus John Martin combined. Well, save for her slightly younger brother, Nathan. He has yet to hear what has befallen his sister. I do not believe he will turn his back on her. You would be wise to keep that in mind.”
“Ye mean I might have some outraged pup pounding upon my door?”
“It is possible. Tearlach, can I not dissuade you from placing her in servitude for a year?”
“Nay.”
“But you have enough coin to hire a dozen servants.”
“No one here kens that. Ye swore ye would tell no one.”
“And I kept my word,” Corbin assured him, “although you never explained the need for such secrecy.”
“The first time I had a full purse I thought of marriage and sought out a bride. The jingle of coin in my pocket made me very popular, but I was fool enough to think that I alone drew the admiration. One woman soon showed me what a vain idiot I was. I made a complete ass of myself for her, love and lust blinding me to her true nature—that of a mercenary tart. The awakening she forced upon me was cruel, but I learned from it. Without coin I draw little interest. With it I gain the sort of attention I am better without.”
“You should not allow one bad experience to sour you.”
“One bad one and a dozen lesser ones.”
“Fine. Keep your wealth a secret, but it does not require any great wealth to hire a woman to care for your sister, one who is willing to go with you, and leave Pleasance behind.”
Tearlach leaned forward. “What if I let her stay here? What would she face? Her family has cast her aside. The whole town believes her a thief. After she spends a year away, folks’ memories mightnae be so strong. The truth could yet come out.” He leaned back, relaxing again, and sipped his wine. “She willnae come to any harm.”
“Nay? Can you swear that you will not approach her in a lustful manner? The winters can be long and cold in the Berkshires, and she is a fair little thing.”
“I dinnae consider that sharing my bed would be doing her harm, Corbin. Neither have I indentured her to me for that purpose.”
“Neither have you sworn that you will leave her be.”
“As ye say, the winters in the Berkshires can be verra long and cold.”
“Curse it, Tearlach! I ought to declare the girl innocent and set her free.”
“Ye cannae for the same reason I sat silent at the trial. Once her family decided to let her take all the blame, it became a matter between them and her, and no longer our business. She set the course for all of us when she didnae defend herself. If she chooses to protect those ungrateful fools who are her family, who are we to say nay? To allow her to go free ye must paint the others black. She doesnae want that, ’tis clear. She chooses to take it all upon her own slim shoulders, so let her. She willnae appreciate ye exposing all she has fought to hide. I kenned that. ’Tis why I said nothing.”
“How could they do that to her?” Corbin shook his head. “She will not admit it, but she stays silent about the truth to protect that ungrateful lot. You have said little as well, yet I cannot think you mean to protect that blond wench Letitia.”
“Nay, not I. I told you, once Pleasance did not dispute her family’s tale, I chose to follow her lead. And with so many witnesses confirming the tale the Martins and the Dunstans told, how could either of us dispute it and be believed? I may have the power and wealth to fight them, but by the time I mustered them, Pleasance would have been imprisoned for weeks. As for Letitia, she can go to hell in a hand-basket for all I care. Letitia is spoiled and vain. ’Tis clear she is the favored child, but I fail to see her charm. She pursued me so vehemently simply because I chose to cast my eye toward the elder first.”
Corbin was surprised and made no effort to hide it. “You never spoke of this before.”
“After courting Pleasance for a fortnight, I was coldly pushed aside.” Tearlach found that the admission still stung him. “Rudely pushed aside, in truth.”
“Nay. Pleasance has been known to have a sharp tongue, but she is never cruel or rude without good reason or strong provocation.”
“The reason is plain. The Dunstans want little to do with a poor Scotsman, a mere farmer and one they think is poorly funded and settled far from civilization.”
“I still cannot believe Pleasance felt that way. Nay, do not take offense. I do not cry you a liar. I but say that you guess her reasons wrong. Pleasance Dunstan does not have such vanity or airs. Try to find out why she treated you so. Do not sit back and assume you know. I may not know the young woman well, but I believe she is neither shallow nor as simple to decipher as that. She is much like her brother Nathan, and him I do know well. Nathan treats each man as an equal, be he in rags or fine lace. Nay, I will not believe that Pleasance turned you away because she thought you too common.”
Tearlach wanted to believe that, but he remained distrustful. For the first time in his life he had honestly been interested in a woman for more than what lay beneath her skirts. Although he had been interested in that as well, and still was, he thought with an inner smile. He had sought after Pleasance for more honorable and lasting reasons, however, and had been surprised at himself even as he had done so. Her initial elusiveness he had attributed to shyness, but she had soon ended that misconception. His pride, which he knew could be too strong, had been badly stung. He was also angry at her for not being what he had thought her to be and angry at himself for being so mistaken about her.
He had grown even more angry when he had discovered, in an embarrassing way, that she had somehow made captive his lusts. To ease his stung pride, he had tried to bed one of the tavern wenches, only to have his body refuse to cooperate. Pleasance Dunstan had captured his passions in a way that made it impossible for him to satisfy them elsewhere.
So, he thought with a sly glance