Phoebe gazed up at Nicholas with her solemn empty eyes and slowly shook her head.
Nicholas gave an abrupt bark of laughter. “No, I don’t suppose you do. Well, you are to come with us on a walk to Upper Bidwell. How does that sound?”
Phoebe raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, and took another bite of tea cake.
As the merry band made its way down the Blackwell drive, all of them squinting against the sunlight reflected off of the crushed shells that paved the way, Nicholas whispered to Mira, “This is absurd. It feels more as if we are marshaling an invasion of town than engaging in a discreet reconnaissance mission.”
Mira smiled and threw him a saucy salute. “Lead on, General.”
Chapter Eleven
The good people of Upper Bidwell did not appear particularly pleased to have the gaggle of guests from Blackwell Hall descend unannounced. As they walked down the road through the small gathering of shops and houses, the party was greeted with carefully blank faces and reluctant nods of greeting. There was not a smile to be seen.
The walk from the manor house to the village had gone exactly as one would have expected. Jeremy seemed to take great delight in flirting outrageously with Bella and watching Aunt Kitty draw herself up in righteous indignation, her nostrils pinching closed in fury. For her part, Bella was so obviously smitten with Jeremy that she paid scant attention to her mother’s mounting ire, focusing all her energy on batting her eyelashes and simpering coquettishly.
As Mira and Nicholas strolled in companionable silence, Mira found that she enjoyed the walk. Simply being in Nicholas’s presence making her feel more complete, more sure of herself.
But now, as their party ran the gauntlet of grim Upper Bidwellians, even Nicholas’s presence was not enough to reassure her. Keeping her smile firmly in place, Mira whispered from the corner of her mouth to Nicholas. “Why do all of these people look as though they would just as soon spit on us as say ‘good morning’?”
Nicholas ducked his head to whisper back. “It is not a question of ‘us,’ so much as ‘me.’ Given the rumors, I am persona non grata in the village. Much as I am in London, but the simple people of Upper Bidwell are more forthcoming with their opinions.”
Mira nodded to yet another glaring woman, stretching her smile wider still. “Ah. I see. Given your current lack of popularity, perhaps I should make our inquiries. Somehow I do not think anyone will say anything useful with you hovering about.”
From the corner of her eye, Mira noted the weary smile that crossed Nicholas’s face. “I suppose you are correct. And I suppose that means I shall bear the responsibility for keeping our, um, troops occupied?”
She flashed him a sympathetic look. “Yes, I suppose it does. Best of luck to you, my lord general,” she concluded with a small salute, her face drawn into an expression of mock solemnity.
“Imp. I would suggest you begin your investigation with Mrs. Thomas, the vicar’s wife. Both she and the Reverend Mr. Thomas are the font of all local knowledge, and enjoy being right in the thick of things. A mouse cannot sneeze in Upper Bidwell without one or the other of them offering a tonic.”
“An excellent idea,” Mira responded. “I believe Ellie Thomas actually found Bridget Collins, so Mrs. Thomas might also have learned something from her daughter that did not become more widely known.”
Nicholas looked down at Mira, and she thought she saw a shadow of unease flit across his expression.
“Mira, you never cease to surprise me with your insights and information.” His voice dropped to an intimate timbre. “Should I ever need another matter investigated, I shall look no further than across my bed.”
Heat suffused Mira’s face in a dizzying rush. “Nicholas! What a thing to say.”
He laughed. Mira had grown to enjoy his laugh immensely. When Nicholas laughed, Mira felt like they were alone, sharing something private even out in blazing daylight surrounded by a score of people. And, her scolding aside, she had grown to enjoy Nicholas’s bold teasing. She still blushed when he said such outrageous and provocative things, but the blush was as much of pleasure as of embarrassment.