She pursed her lips. “I hope that was not the command it sounded to be.”

Damnation, the woman was infuriating at times. “Just. Don’t. Move.”

She climbed onto the gig and took the ribbons in her hands. “I think it will look very odd to Mr. Edkins if I sit in this gig for however long you are in there. There was a nice, sunny spot near the last crossroad, beside a pretty stream. If you ask nicely and do not dare command, I may wait for you there.”

He gritted his teeth. “Would you be kind enough to wait so I may have a few words with you?”

She began to turn the horse. “Perhaps. Now you should attend to Mr. Edkins. He intends to go fishing soon.”

She moved the gig down the lane. With one more curse under his breath, he presented himself at the door with card in hand.

* * *

What did you tell that woman? Chase could not ask outright, much as he wanted to. Instead he asked his own questions and looked for signs that Mr. Edkins had heard them already, recently.

They settled into a pleasant sitting room with good light from handsome windows on the front of the house. The entire cottage had an appealing if spare appearance. This chamber held good proportions and a distinctive, carved mantel on the fireplace. The furniture, such as it held, showed quality. Mr. Edkins had spent wisely and well, and not been especially frugal. Of course with the pension he received in the will, he did not have to stint.

The man was younger than Uncle Frederick had been, perhaps fifty years old. The large pension he received had surprised the solicitor, and angered the family. He’s another fifteen years of service in him before a settlement like that, Dolores had complained. Uncle Frederick had thought differently, and now Mr. Edkins lived like a gentleman on a nice spot of land on a lake.

“I picked this cottage because I can fish whenever I want to.” Mr. Edkins waxed eloquent about his property when Chase complimented him on it. “Never could all those years. Missed it. Now I go out there whenever I fancy.” His thumb jabbed toward the back of the house.

“I am glad my uncle afforded you that ability,” Chase said. “Have you had much contact with his family or the servants from the houses?”

Edkins shook his head. “It is an odd thing. Hard to explain. When it is over, it is over. The people that filled your days—the family are employers, and the other servants are . . . like other monks in their cells, laboring in the monastery beside you.” He grinned at the analogy. “The friendships are all very formal.”

“I would have expected the longest serving of you to remain in contact. Letters and such.”