Free So Enchanting by Connie Brockway Page B

of Little Firkin?”

    “Good heavens, no,” Sheffield said. “Only your guardian has that power, and he is not currently in Great Britain, nor will he be back for some time. I am here as Collier’s representative simply to assess the situation and make recommendations. Of course, if I felt you were in imminent danger, I would be forced to act, but I see that is not the case.”

    “Grey”—Hayden’s voice held a warning tone—“do you think this is the proper place for this conversation?” He didn’t look in Bernard’s direction, but everyone—including Bernard—understood the implication. Well aware he was de trop , the bank owner had made a politic retreat to his desk, where he was now busily tidying and retidying a stack of papers, his gaze averted, his ear tips rosy with embarrassment.

    “Why?” Sheffield looked around. “Might as well get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. And Mr. McGowan is bound to have some insight. What say you to this situation, McGowan? You seem a reasonable man.”

    Bernard looked up, pretending he’d just caught his name. “Eh?”

    “Miss Chase. Do you believe her to be in physical danger? Because of being a witch and all?”

    The way Sheffield said it made it sound absurd. Fanny could not disagree. First of all, why would someone want to hurt Amelie? She was worth a fortune to everyone in town only alive. Second, why would anyone want to hurt Amelie? She was as nice and agreeable a young lady as anyone might wish for. And finally, a note warning that someone wanted to hurt Amelie meant that more than one person knew about it. A secret conspiracy? In Little Firkin ? Where a dog couldn’t pass gas in the middle of the night without its being noted and argued about for the next month? It made no sense.
     
    Poor Bernard cleared his throat, visibly disconcerted, and Fanny’s heart went out to him. He might be a little stodgy and his stamp-collecting mania a little peculiar, but then, she and Amelie might be considered peculiar, too. No, Amelie could do worse than Bernard for a husband. Besides, Bernard had the additional recommendation of not only being aware of Amelie’s history but of always having treated her as though he weren’t. Now Sheffield was forcing him to acknowledge what they’d all long since silently agreed to ignore. Damn the man.

    “If Miss Chase is in danger, this is the first I have heard of it,” he now said. “As far as Miss Chase being, er, atypical, that is the witless gossip of the ignorant.”

    “Hear, hear,” Sheffield said, dropping lightly to his feet. He brushed his hands together. “Well, that’s that then. No sense hanging about because of someone’s notion of a prank.”

    “But . . . but . . . what if it isn’t a prank?” Hayden hastily interjected. “That makes as little sense as a threat against her. What would be the object of such a prank, and who was its target? The postmaster? My father?”

    The boy had a point.

    “We should investigate,” Hayden concluded.
     
    The lad had positioned himself at Amelie’s side, visually aligning himself with her. Amelie accepted his championship, her lashes fluttering like sheets on a clothesline. The girl’s initial distress had faded. She gave every appearance of settling in nicely to her new role as damsel in distress.

    “We? Oh, all right then.” Sheffield sighed. “Has anyone threatened your life, Miss Chase? By either word or action?”

    “No.”

    “And there has been nothing of a remotely suspicious nature which has in any fashion endangered you?”

    Amelie did not answer at once, and he pounced on her hesitation. “I see there has been. Would you be so kind as to tell us what that was?”

    “It’s hardly worth mentioning.”

    “Indulge me. I am here as your guardian’s representative. If you are in danger, it is my duty to see you are removed from it.”

    “ You are Lord Collier’s representative? But I thought Lord Hayden . . .” Amelie