Their plans changed when apoplexy claimed Mr. Towler’s life not even a year after their marriage. Mr. Towler’s holdings transferred to one of his nephews, leaving Mrs. Towler in reduced circumstances with very little to live on. James took all the knowledge he had learned from both his father and Mr. Towler and established his own shipping company, and for the next several years he continued to single-handedly grow their finances and dealings until he was a respected businessman in his own right: Shrewd. Calculated. Clever. They had surpassed either of their fathers before them, but when Elizabeth died, his world shattered. There seemed little point in remaining in Plymouth. He sold the business and purchased Briarton Park and Weyton Mill to return to the work his father had taught him.
The entire experience had been one difficult decision after another, and now he had a new decision to make. Miss Hale had presented him with a very interesting proposition. His girls did need a governess, and the governess his mother-in-law had chosen was not available for several months. Maria and Rose needed guidance, and Mrs. Towler was not providing it.
And he genuinely liked Miss Hale. She was direct and to the point, sure of herself and determined, and dignity and integrity seemed to rule her actions. She was unlike any woman he’d ever encountered.
But something about her gave him reason to pause. She possessed the sort of beauty he thought about at the oddest times. It was unnerving. She was the first woman he’d taken notice of since Elizabeth.
Initially it didn’t really matter, he’d told himself. For she would eventually leave the area.
But she was gradually weaving herself into the fabric of their lives. First as a friend to Rachel, but a governess? Living in his home? He could be professional, of course, for he did think her a good influence for his girls. But to be faced with that temptation, day in, day out, was another matter entirely.
He missed Elizabeth.
He always would.
But he also missed feeling connected to someone. And attraction was just the start of how those feelings could develop and deepen. He was strong enough to face a great many things, but was he willing to risk the idea of losing someone again?
“Warrington, if I am not mistaken?”
The deep voice pulled James from his thoughts, and he looked up to see a finely dressed stranger approach his table.
The white-haired man nodded to the empty seat across from James. “May I?”
Oddly grateful for the reprieve from his own thoughts, James leaned back in the chair. “Be my guest.”
The man sat down. “Name’s William Longham. You don’t know me, I reckon, but I know you. You own Weyton Mill. You live up at Briarton Park.”
It was not surprising that the man should know his identity, but with the recent unrest at local mills, it was a little disconcerting. “I do.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve passed many a day at Briarton Park. That was years ago, of course. I was—am—the late owner’s man of business.”
James raised a brow. “Robert Clark’s man of business?”
“Yes, yes indeed. Never thought I’d be back here though.” Mr. Longham lifted his gaze to the ceiling’s roughly hewn beams. “But duty calls.”
“And what duty is that?”
The older man pulled a pipe from his coat. “I understand you had a caller at Briarton. A Miss Cassandra Hale.”
When James did not immediately respond, the man pointed his pipe at James and continued. “You’re suspicious. I don’t blame you. Never you mind. It is impossible to keep secrets in a village like this. And no one’s business is ever really private, is it?”
Now James’s interest was piqued. A few days ago he’d never even heard the name Cassandra Hale. Now it seemed that her name, not to mention Clark’s, was on everyone’s lips. It was odd—he almost felt defensive for the young woman. Yes, they’d only just met, but she’d helped his family and he felt honor bound to watch out for her. Besides, if he was in any way considering her for a governess, he’d need to know why such a man would be inquiring after her. “What business have you with Miss Hale?”
“Normally I’d say it’s personal and not share a word. But it is urgent I speak with her. I’d hoped you could help.”
Mr. Longham hadn’t answered his question. Not really. James took another swig of his cider as the battled raged within him. He should not get involved.
He should not.
He returned his mug to the table, but before he could speak, Milton returned to the table and stood next to it. “Longham! That you? Ye a ghost?”
Longham guffawed and extended a thick hand toward the man. “Ah, Milton. Good to see you, man. No, not a ghost, but might as well be some days.”
Milton slapped a heavy hand on the much taller man’s slightly stooped shoulder and dropped to the chair next to him. “What brings ye back to these parts then? Ol’ Clark back from the grave bringin’ us trouble?”
Longham chuckled. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no, no. But it is the Clark estate that brings me here.”
“You should be callin’ on Peter Clark then, eh?” Milton leaned on the table with his pointed elbows. “I shouldn’t think there’s much to do with th’ estate here at ol’ Green Ox.”
“I will need to speak with Peter eventually, but not yet. It is quite another person I am here to see.” Longham pivoted toward James. “I’m told that Miss Cassandra Hale was at your place asking after Mr. Clark.”
James did not like how the man asked after her so boldly. “And how would you know that?”
“The innkeeper here and I go way back. I asked him to keep an ear out for her name since so many come through his doors. He notified me when he saw her name come across the travel ledgers. Glad he did too. Devilishly hard woman to track down.”
A strange sense of satisfaction spread through James. He was right to be cautious about this man. After all, perhaps Miss Hale didn’t want to be found. But then again, wouldn’t she want to know anything associated with the Clark estate given her quest?
Oh, his interest in her was intensifying.
Longham folded his aged, gnarled hands on the table before him. “I have business with her. Rather, Mr. Clark’s estate does. Do you know how to reach her?”
He knew what he needed to do, even though he suspected it would pull him down into the depths of whatever was going on.
“I can get a message to her,” James offered, “but I must know the nature of it before I agree to assist you.”
“There are matters related to his estate that pertain to her, namely his will.”
James exchanged glances with Milton, who shrugged. Milton seemed to have a good rapport with Longham. And had James not told Miss Hale specifically that he would offer any assistance?
“Very well. Come by Briarton Park tomorrow evening at dusk. I will reach out to her, and if she is amenable, you may speak with her there.”
Chapter 17
Cassandra simply could not make sense of it.
Earlier that morning she’d received a letter from Mr. Warrington. She’d assumed it would be regarding the governess position, but it didn’t even mention it. The message had been simple: Mr. Warrington had encountered a solicitor who wanted to speak with her regarding Mr. Clark. He was facilitating an introduction at Briarton Park, and he’d send a carriage to convey her there. Now, as Briarton Park’s carriage rumbled through the main gates, her nerves fluttered within her as she mulled over possible scenarios.