Beyond a Doubt

chapter Thirty-Three




Bryce wondered what he’d done to make Lucy leave. Perhaps he’d come on too strongly? Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her? He was hurt that she was gone without a word.

He stopped pacing and noticed his reflection in the looking glass. He wasn’t unattractive, or at least he didn’t think so. After all, he was a Cameron and his family was notorious for their good looks.

Bryce twitched his lips upward on the right side then threw his hands into the air. Who was he trying to fool? He should go back to shrugging. Any uses of his mouth of late had only gotten him in trouble.

Not wishing to remain idle, Bryce fed and brushed the horses. Then he cleaned out their stalls. Once finished, he looked around for other things to occupy his time.

The backyard appeared to have once held a garden. The rich earth was cut in a semblance of rows and a shed remained behind the house. Bryce found tools and began turning the soil. Thoughts about what he could plant occupied his mind.

As his muscles stretched in work, he felt tension move out of his body. Time slipped by, but nagging worry remained.

Why had Lucy left so suddenly? Was she angry with him? Was she coming back? What was he going to do about his future?

Engrossed in his thoughts, he was surprised by a shaft of pain shooting across the back of his head. What sounded like a dozen cackling hens reached his ears.

****

“Dear sister, whatever will we do?”

“Winnie, I say we call the magistrate.”

“But Winifred, that puny man could never lift this monster. Besides, why would we call the magistrate?” asked Winnie.

“Because this man doesn’t belong here,” replied Winifred.

“But he is gardening. Hardly a threat to society.”

“Doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t be here.”

Bryce woke. Opening his eyes a fraction, he noted two tiny gray-haired women, or maybe it was one and he saw double? Whatever the case, they argued above him.

His head ached. After studying and listening, he realized there were definitely two women. They appeared to be in disagreement about what to do with him.

His hand trembled as he placed it to his head. A moan escaped his lips. The women rounded on him. One hefted a metal shovel set to descend upon him once more. Bryce shifted his hand to protect himself.

“Stop beating on the child, Winifred.”

“But Winnie—“

“Let me handle this.” Winnie faced him. He sat up, and his sitting stature almost reached the height of her standing position. “Now sonny, who are you and what are you doing in this yard?”

Winifred interrupted before he could respond.

“Now Winnie, you know he is going to lie. Why ask him anything? I say we hit him on the head again and get the magistrate to come and cart him away.”

“And I say we ask the lad to state his business.”

“Look at him! His breeches stop at his knees!”

“Winifred, my dear, those are Scottish trews.”

“Humph. Look like short breeches to me,” Winifred muttered under her breath. Louder she added, “I’m sorry I’m not as cultured as you. Father didn’t send all of us on an adventure.”

“Winifred Townsend! That was fifty years ago! And it wasn’t an adventure. Father sent me off to marry and when I met the man I ran away. The end. Now stop this nonsense so I can ask this man his business.”

Winifred crossed her arms over her tiny chest. Her wrinkled chin lifted upward in a snobbish air. Her eyes rolled back in her head. It was clear she distrusted Bryce.

Winnie turned back to him and said, “Now sonny, state your business and be quick about it. My sister will only hold her tongue for so long and then she will be off again.”

Bryce opened his mouth and moved his jaw back and forth. It felt locked, probably from the bump to the head. Once his voice returned, he said, “I’m a friend of Lucy Bard.”

Both women raised their eyebrows. Winnie questioned, “Lucy Bard?”

“Aye. I escorted her from Scotland.”

“See, I told you he’d lie,” said Winifred, glaring at him.

“Winifred, hush. Maybe you just hit him too hard. You have to admit the information is close to the truth.” Winnie tapped her finger to her head then pointed it straight into the air. “I know. The man needs tea. We will clear up this mess after a good pot of tea.”

“Winnie, tea won’t make this better. The man’s dangerous.”

“He’s a gardener, dear sis. You go make the tea and I’ll stay and talk with him. When he is ready I’ll bring him along.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Duly noted. Tea, please.”

Winifred left in a huff. The other lady placed a hand under his arm and attempted to lift him from the ground. Bryce found the effort risible and assisted before the woman injured herself.

Once he was standing, the world seemed to sway, and it sent him bouncing into Winnie. Surprisingly strong for her size, she steadied him.

“I believe Winifred was a wee bit overzealous when she struck you. But don’t be too angry with her. The poor dear is so immature. There is only so much that can be done with a youngster these days.”

The woman must have noticed his incredulous look, because she continued, “I’ll speak with her later, don’t you worry. She will be reprimanded.”

It took all his strength not to burst forth with laughter. Winnie appeared to be at least seventy years old. Her gray hair was pulled tightly back into a neat bun. Her face was covered in wrinkles, and her stern expression softened only when she smiled. Her sister, Winifred, who had been sent to make tea, was almost an exact copy of Winnie.

Bryce asked, “Are ye neighbors with Lucy?”

“Ooo, I love the Scottish burr. The trills of your r’s always did leave me breathless.” Winnie placed a conspiratorial hand on his arm. She looked around before speaking. “What I said earlier wasn’t exactly true. I mean about my adventure to Scotland. I did see the man.

“He was a huge, burly, attractive Scotsman. I would have stayed with him forever. But he took one look at me and declared I was too small to bear his children and sent me home. ‘Course I never told anyone what really happened. He was probably right. If I heard correctly, he had more than one wife die during childbirth. Besides, my sister needed me. I couldn’t leave her.

“Oh, you asked a question. Lucy, our neighbor? Not exactly. What I mean is the child is rarely ever home. So you couldn’t exactly call her a neighbor. Thomas, the old butler, comes every now and then and checks on the house and things hereabout. But no one has really lived here since old Mr. Lombard was murdered.”

“Mr. Lombard?”

“Aye, Lombard not Bard. He was a lawyer and someone shot ’em. Poor man. Took cases no one else would touch. Defended those who awaited burning for their faith. Or those set to lose their property for their beliefs. Didn’t win many of those cases, though.”

“Who shot him?” asked Bryce.

“Don’t know for sure. His daughter, Lucille, found him in an alley, brought him home, and he died. No one ever did discover the culprit, to my knowledge. And after that Lucille was never the same. First never leaving the house, then all of a sudden becoming flighty and you never saw her at home.

“Why, before her father’s passing, that girl stayed gone. Always travelled with her friends and did what she wanted. That happens when a father raises a girl alone.

“Winifred and I tried to help but he wouldn’t have it. The old man thought it his duty to take care of his child. And of course we moved aside and let him. Didn’t stop praying for the child, though. Her mother would have wanted that.

“Anyway, I’m getting away from the tale. Right after her father’s demise, the girl holed up in the house and refused to see the light of day. Then without warning, like I said, she stayed gone. But you know this is the first time in my remembrance that she’s brought someone home with her.”

At the end of her words, she graced him with a huge smile. “My sister and I aren’t nosey, just diligent. Got to keep the neighborhood safe. Hate to say this, but Winifred thought you were burying Lucille’s body in the backyard. That’s why she hit you. But I tried to tell her you weren’t in one place long enough for a deep hole. What person with sense buries someone on top of the ground? Why, one big rain and the dirt washes away and you have a body sticking up and that is a suspicious thing. Of course, you would be long gone by that point. Which is why Winifred couldn’t wait to come over and check.”

They reached the house next door and walked inside. The place was clutter-free, airy, dainty, and feminine, decorated in whites and yellows. Since Bryce was covered in dirt and horse droppings, he didn’t want to take the first step inside.

“Come on, laddy. I won’t let her bite you.”

“But I’m messy.”

“Oh, we won’t pay no mind. We like to clean. I’m afraid we are too old and decrepit to get the place dirty enough to satisfy our work ethic. So come on in, you’ll be doing us a favor.”

Bryce hesitated but followed the lady’s instructions. Winnie had opened a flood of questions in his mind, many of which couldn’t be reconciled until Lucy returned. If she returned.