Newgate Prison Copper Mines and the Irish Lass Colonial America Romance

Chapter Six

Christina felt as if she'd worn a trench in the sitting room floor. The sun was shining warm through the cracks in the shutters, a stew was simmering in the kitchen, and the fragrantly fresh bars of rosemary soap were stacked on the shelf.

But all she could think about was William.

He had been in Windsor for a full day now, if all had gone well. Had he made his journey safely? Had he yet met his patient, the abused horse? What did he think of his chances to soothe the tormented creature? Was he going to be there several days? Several weeks? Several months?

She could not take the thought of that long of an estrangement.

A month. She'd arranged for a single month for herself.

He'd said he would write her a letter.

Her father smiled as he looked up from his newspaper. "Ah, lass. You know the Royal Mail takes a week or more, even from somewhere as close as Windsor. But, as it happens, it's barely three hours walking. And we do have sweet Esther ... perhaps we could go for a relaxing ride ..."

She crossed her arms before her chest in frustration. "As you well know, I can't walk it, or ride it, or crawl it. I'm declared in mourning for a month, in order to keep that strangely persistent Mr. Richardson at an arm's length."

Her father's eyes gleamed with amusement. "I've always told you you're a fetching lass, just as your mother was before. I don't know why it's taken the doltish men in this town so long to realize it."

She shook her head. "Mr. Richardson is up to something. I just don't know what yet."

His brow creased. "Do you think Mr. Richardson had something to do with Seth's death?"

She blinked in surprise and turned. "Do you mean murder?"

"I am not saying anything," cautioned her father. "It just seems odd with the timing. I had never heard hide nor hair of Mr. Richardson's interest. We would pass each other at the tavern or in the general store and I'd barely get a how'd-you-do from him. But the moment he brings the news of Seth's passing to you, and he is at our house every day since?"

"Maybe he is just feeling rightfully guilty about having Seth work on the day of our Lord," Christina pointed out. "If Mr. Richardson had not done that, Seth would still be alive."

"It could be," mused her father.

She strode over to him, her nerves jangling. "What is in the paper this week? Any news worth reading?"

He pointed. "The first two pages are the continuation of the tale of the Memoirs of a Captain. See this section, here. The captain is wooing a woman. It describes how they have a sweet conversation, such as lovers alone can know." His gaze twinkled. "Maybe you should read the full story and gain inspiration."

He turned the page and sighed. "Unfortunately we have to wait until next week for the end of the story."

Christina paced again. "Another week? Serial stories will be the plague of us!"

He chuckled. "There are also two different letters to the editor complaining about last week's article, where that girl was said to have gotten a pin stuck in her ear and it later came out her nose. One person swears it must have been made up. Another claims to have seen a similar case."

Christina shook her head. "Is there no actual news in that thing?"

Her father scanned the remaining two pages. "Hmmm, let's see. Farm for sale. Another farm for sale. Watch found. Then we have lost mare, lost bay gelding, lost mare, lost mare, and lost red gelding. Several of those are suspected to be stolen."