Page 20 of The Swindler’s Daughter

“Why not?”

Why not? I suppose because Rowan seemed so carefree. I’d never thought of him as someone who had suffered. Clearly I’d been wrong.

“What’s your question?” Nellie asked, sitting down on her own bed.

I hardly knew. I just didn’t want to make a bungle of things. “What do I do? Should I tell him that I know?”

She tilted her head, giving me a knowing look. “I think you know the answer to that.”

I groaned and lay back on my bed. “I know,” I lamented. “I have to tell him that I know. It will just be so strange.” I lay there in silence, worrying for several moments before I admitted, “I don’t want him to hate me.” I wasn’t even certain why that was a fear. But my knowledge felt like a violation, like I had betrayed his trust by figuring out his secret. However, I knew that the real betrayal would be not telling him that I knew.

“I can’t imagine that anyone would hate you for accidentally knowing about something. Especially if you’re honest about it.”

I nodded. “You’re right.” At least I hoped she was right.

I crawled under my covers knowing that my next conversation with Rowan was going to be unavoidably and inevitably awkward.

5

My weekly trip to the village market was much the same as the week before. The constables’ presence made everyone tense, and I saw at least one of the lawmen pocket a trinket from Miss Garnet’s booth. She, in turn, grabbed his wrist, not to try to reacquire the stolen item but to give him a dramatic and bleak warning. The constable just grinned and went on his way. Garnet muttered a lengthy string of words as the man left. I assumed it was a curse and hoped it worked.

Fortunately, I did my shopping without incident, though part of me was disappointed that I hadn’t seen the constables do anything blatantly and grotesquely illegal. Stealing a few nuts and a bauble wasn’t good, but they were just trivial enough that they didn’t seem worth retaliation. If I could just say for certain that they were knowingly stealing things of consequence, perhaps I could allow myself to be on Rowan and Johnny’s side. Not that I could ever help them. Hunter would be horrified if I ever went back to thieving. I would be horrified.

As I left the market, I went up the lane until I reached High Street, where most of the shops were situated. Since Rowan was still unwell, his mother had sent me with a large packet of herbs to sell to the apothecary.

I passed by the bake house, the cobbler, and the carpenter before pushing my way through the door of the apothecary shop. I was immediately assaulted by the pungent smell of herbs and concoctions saturating the air.

The apothecary appeared from the back room and gave me a smile, his sporadic tufts of white hair fluttering as he moved. “What can I do you for, miss?” he asked.

I set my basket on the ground and pulled the packet from its depths. “I’m here on behalf of Anne Lockley. She was indisposed and asked me to deliver these.”

“Ah,” he said, taking the packet and opening it carefully. “Let’s see what we have here.” He carefully looked through each item. Some were simply bundles of stalks, gathered and tied. Others were tiny packets with seeds inside. When he had finished his perusal, he offered me a price that fit within the range that Anne had told me was acceptable.

After putting the coins away, I bent to retrieve my basket but paused. “Might I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he said absentmindedly as he sorted through his new merchandise.

“Have you noticed any trouble happening down at the market?”

He nodded. “I’ve heard word from more than a few people. Seems there’s been more thefts than usual. The constables don’t know what to make of it.”

I pinched my mouth shut, determined not to make any comment on the constables. “Have you had any troubles here in the High Street?” Were the lawmen only targeting the lowest class?

He shook his head. “I haven’t heard of anything unusual in the shops. Of course, Magistrate Reeve checks in on us. He comes from High Street. Spent years working the masonry before he trained up as a constable.” There was clear pride in the man’s eyes. He seemed to consider Reeve one of his own and was glad to see him rise in position and authority.

My stomach sank a little. “Well,” I managed to say past my concern. “Thank you for your time.”

My return to Sutton Manor was filled with speculation. What if the magistrate and his men ended up pitting the shopkeepers of High Street against the farmers and merchants who came to sell their goods only on market day? If the lawmen took care of the shopkeepers while keeping the market vendors under their boot…it would tear the village apart.

***

It was five days after Rowan had fallen ill before I saw him out in the yard with the others. Apparently he was back on his feet, and that meant our weekly lesson could move forward. Part of me wanted to delay our lesson further in the hopes that I would start to feel less guilty about my secret knowledge. I hadn’t asked anyone else if they knew an Isabel. I hadn’t asked for further information about Rowan. It wasn’t my place, which was why I desperately wished that I hadn’t inadvertently eavesdropped on his fevered ramblings. But I had, and now I knew things, and avoiding Rowan wasn’t going to make the situation any better.

So I walked to his home, clutching my bow like a lifeline.

I found him in the herb garden, kneeling in the dirt. “Come for another torture session, have you?” Rowan teased when he saw me coming toward him.

“Only if you have time now.” A large part of me hoped he would turn me away.