Beauty and the Blacksmith (Spindle Cove #3.5)(37)

“Perhaps it’s time we left Spindle Cove,” she said quietly.

Her mother seized her arm with excitement. “Oh, Diana. If that is the happy result of this debacle, then I wish you’d been accused of thievery a year ago. We can go to Town at once. Minerva and Lord Payne will welcome us with open arms.”

Diana doubted that “open arms” bit, but she didn’t suppose they would be turned away.

“At last you can start moving in the best circles. Where you belong. We will make the acquaintance of so many fine gentlemen. Men of wealth and culture and excellent manners.”

Diana wanted to weep. She didn’t want men of wealth and culture. She wanted Aaron, with his small, homely cottage and his dedication to his craft. Ironically, after all Diana’s fears about her mother and society’s disapproval, he wasn’t willing to brave a little gossip for her.

“This is ridiculous,” Charlotte declared, standing and addressing the unspoken accusation in the room. “The thief wasn’t Diana. I know it wasn’t.” She turned a keen gaze on Miss Bertram, who sat huddled in her cloak in the corner of the room. “You’re very quiet.”

“What do you mean?” Miss Bertram said, shifting evasively. “I was at Ambervale last night, with everyone else. Everyone except Miss Highwood.”

The silence fractured into a flurry of whispered suppositions.

Mr. Fosbury, bless him, played peacemaker. He emerged from the kitchen, bearing a tray of teacakes to pass around. “Now, now. I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding. No one who knows Miss Highwood could believe this of her.”

Miss Price clucked her tongue. “No one who’s lived with her for the past week could deny she’s been acting strangely. Disappearing at mealtime, keeping to herself.” She confronted Diana directly. “You told everyone you were ill last night. But then you seemed right as roses this morning.”

“Yes,” Diana said. “Yes, I lied about being ill last night.”

This was it. She was going to tell the truth. Even if she had to give up her dreams of being a blacksmith’s wife, she refused to surrender her hard-won sense of freedom.

Another of the girls looked perplexed. “Why would you do that, Miss Highwood? Weren’t you looking forward to visiting Ambervale?”

“I should think the reason is obvious,” Miss Price declared. “She stayed behind so she could make free with our possessions.”

“No.” Diana pulled her spine straight. “I feigned illness for the same reason I’ve been feigning ill health for years now. Habit. And fear.” She turned to her mother, steeling her resolve. “My asthma hasn’t bothered me in years, Mama. I’ve been told I’m cured. But I’ve clung to the appearance of delicate health because . . . because it’s easier to claim a false malady than endure the real headache of arguing with you.”

A hush fell over the room. She could feel everyone staring at her.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I should have been honest and told you I didn’t wish to go.”

“Why would you not wish to go?” her mother cried. “You had the lead in the theatrical. And I know we agreed on Lord Drewe’s unsuitability, but Lord Payne was attending as well. One of them might have invited a highly placed friend.”

“I don’t care about Lord Drewe,” she exclaimed. “Nor his friends. I don’t want the same things you want, Mama. Marrying me off to a duke is your dream, not mine.”

Pursing her mouth in displeasure, Mama flicked open her fan. “I think you are ill. I’m sure I’ve never heard you speak in such a fashion.”

“Well, I suggest you get used to it.” Diana rose and confronted the room of shocked faces. “I am guilty of falsehood. It was wrong of me to lie. Not only wrong but cowardly as well. I am sorry for it. But I swear to you, I did not steal. They won’t find anything in my room.”

Matilda came bursting through the door, closely followed by Mrs. Nichols. “We found something in Miss Highwood’s room.”

“What?” Charlotte cried. “Impossible.”

“Is it my brooch?” asked Miss Price.

“Not the brooch,” Mrs. Nichols said, giving Diana an apologetic look. “But we did find these.”

The old woman unrolled a linen handkerchief to reveal a collection of shiny metallic objects.

Oh, no. They were Aaron’s pieces. The ones she’d kept hidden at the bottom of her trousseau.

Diana went dizzy. She sat down again. “I didn’t steal those. You can ask Sally Bright.”

“Ask me what?” Sally asked, having just popped through the door. She flashed a cheeky smile. “You don’t really think I’d miss a scene like this, do you?”

Wonderful. Now the whole village was assembled to witness Diana’s humiliation. All the ladies of the Queen’s Ruby, Mr. Fosbury and his serving girl, assorted tavern patrons, and now Sally Bright—who would share the tale with the few remaining people in the parish who’d missed it.

“Those pieces Mrs. Nichols is holding. I purchased them from the All Things shop, didn’t I?”

“Oh, yes,” Sally said, peering at the handful of silver. “Last year, I think. You told me they were going to be Christmas gifts.”

“Then why were they buried at the bottom of her trunk?” Matilda asked. “All secret-like.”