Free The Guardian of Secrets: And Her Deathly Pact by Jana Petken

humiliated. Her vanity and her blind obsession with love may have caused her father’s death, and she alone would carry the burden of that knowledge. She alone would have to live with the consequences. She could not, would not, condemn the man she’d married to the whole world without proof of guilt, solid proof. Her job now would be to find the evidence, even if it meant having to share her home with Joseph Dobbs in the meantime.
    The two women reached the front door just in time to see the last of the mourners leave. The vicar, staggering and slightly the worse for wear after drinking too much sweet sherry, led the procession down the long path. John Malone, Tom Butcher, and their wives escorted Mary Shields, who was still crying and looking as though she was incapable of supporting herself. Mrs Baxter, carrying her bag and coat, was also crying. Celia quickened her step and reached the old woman just as she was about to climb the three steps that led to the main gate.
    “Mrs Baxter, you’re leaving too?” she asked.
    Mrs Baxter tossed her head and sniffed into her handkerchief. She sobbed again and then spoke in a muffled voice, barely audible. “Yes, I must get off, and I have to tell you, Celia, that I’m flabbergasted and disappointed in you. Your husband has told me not to come back, today of all days. Really, couldn’t you have told me yourself instead of leaving it to him to do your dirty work?”
    “What are you talking about, Mrs Baxter? Of course you’re coming back. You know I can’t do without you.”
    Mrs Baxter sniffed again, then straightened herself and shot an angry glance at Joseph, who was still standing at the front door, talking to Simon Ayres.
    “Well, you will have to do without me from now on because your husband has sacked me!” she shouted. “I just don’t understand. I swear I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. After all these years of service, I can’t believe it!”
    “Maybe you should have a word with Joseph, Celia, dear,” Marie said, clearly trying to defuse the situation.
    Celia nodded in agreement. “Yes, yes, of course I will. I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding. Mrs Baxter, I assure you I know nothing about this. I’ll sort it out, I promise. You go home now, and I’ll come and see you tomorrow.”
    Mrs Baxter kissed her and then, with the help of Tom Butcher’s wife, climbed the steps to the gate and caught up with the departing procession.
    Celia was furious. Her head was aching, and she felt like screaming at the whole world. How dare Joseph, she thought all the way into the house. Mrs Baxter had been at the farm for as long as she could remember. She was as much a member of the family as Joseph. How could he take it upon himself to dispose of her like that, without a word? Merrill Farm was hers, not his!
     

Chapter 6
    T he moment had arrived, and Celia steeled herself to face it. Joseph was already seated at the parlour room table with Simon Ayres, and she felt his cold stare before she’d even sat down with her aunt. The reading of her father’s will was about to take place, and as she looked across the table at her husband, she decided that the question of Mrs Baxter’s future would have to wait. For now, she would have to concentrate on her own.
    Simon Ayres was a man of high moral standing and had a reputation for being scrupulous and diligent in his work. Celia had known him all her life, and she was sure that his appearance hadn’t changed since she was a girl. He was short in stature, with a potbelly that hung over his trousers. He always wore his trousers a size too big for him, and they were accompanied with braces of various colours, depending on what day of the week it was. His mop of white hair was in startling contrast to his black whiskers, which were thick and curly at the ends, but they didn’t hide his generous smile or his infectious laughter. He could never be called a handsome man, but he was the kindest, gentlest man she’d