The Bridge to Belle Island by Julie Klassen

Author:Julie Klassen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction;Murder—Investigation—Fiction;Mystery fiction;FIC042030;FIC042110;FIC027070
ISBN: 9781493420308
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2019-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

After dinner that evening, Mr. Hardy went out to the veranda to smoke a cigar. Benjamin did not smoke, but he went out to keep him company.

Across the Thames, the setting sun hovered over Riverton, gilding the clouds and rooftops. Crickets began to chirp, and twilight descended like a filmy grey curtain. As the two sat companionably, Abel Curtis walked past with a fowling piece and a black-and-white sheepdog, probably on his way back to the tenants’ cottages.

Hardy asked quietly, “Who is that man?”

“Mr. Curtis.”

“Curtis? That name is familiar. . . . Was that not the name of the young man who wanted to marry Miss Wilder years ago?”

“Yes. That is his father. Evan Curtis became a captain in the infantry.”

Hardy nodded. “That’s right. He came to see Percival as her closest male relative shortly after her parents died. He refused his permission.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds it would be a disastrous match. Curtis was only a shepherd’s son. No prospects. Nothing to commend him. Percy sought my advice, and I agreed with him. But we did not send him away empty-handed. I have friends in the military. I suggested a commission in the infantry might keep him at a safe distance for a few years.”

“How did Miss Wilder take it?”

“Not well. She was angry with Percival for sending him away. I said he could tell her it was my idea, but he chose not to.”

Suddenly a dark figure stepped from the gloaming—Evan Curtis himself. Had he been purposefully eavesdropping? How much had he heard? Benjamin felt sheepish to be caught talking about the man, but Mr. Hardy seemed unaffected. Ben wished he had half his confidence.

Mounting the veranda stairs, Curtis said, “Well, that’s one mystery solved. I wondered how Percy managed it. I should have guessed you were his right-hand man. Why did you do it?”

Hardy rose to face the young man. His tone was unruffled, even fatherly. “Surely there was no mystery about our motive. Sad as it may seem, a shepherd’s son does not marry an heiress.”

“Groundsman,” Evan corrected between clenched teeth. “My father is groundsman on this estate. A longtime, trusted retainer. Ask Miss Wilder. Ask anyone.”

Hardy waved a dismissive hand. “No need. I recall the particulars.”

The man slowly approached. “Now I learn it was your idea to offer me a commission.”

“Only trying to be helpful.”

Anger flashed over Curtis’s face. “You sent me as far away and to as dangerous a posting as you could manage.”

“I don’t know about dangerous, but distant, yes. Can you blame us? Miss Wilder was young and impressionable. We didn’t want you to sway her to accept you against her family’s wishes. Or heaven forbid, convince her to elope with you.”

Every muscle tensed, and Evan’s hand fisted. Benjamin leapt to his feet, just as the man lunged, and grabbed hold of him.

“Arrogant toff!” Curtis seethed. “Let me go. I want to punch that smug look from his face.”

Benjamin barely managed to hold him back.

Curtis strained against his grip, glaring at Hardy. “How dare you? You knew nothing of me.

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