The Secret of Bell Cottage

Chapter Six - Gideon

This time it was the warm, sweet smell of baking bread that teased Gideon out of slumber. His stomach clenched and then growled, loudly demanding sustenance. He was reminded that it had been almost a full day since he'd last eaten. Even then it had been meager fare. Just some lumpy stew and stale bread washed down with tiny ale at his last rest stop. Cautiously, he opened his eyes and raised his head. The room remained still and he was relieved. His head ached but it was much lighter than before. He allowed his gaze to wander as he assessed his surroundings and found the room much as it had been when he'd drifted off. It had not been his intention to fall asleep but just the meager effort of using the bucket to relieve his bladder, exhausted him. He barely managed to crawl back into bed before he fell back to sleep. Suddenly, he recalled Mrs. Sparrow mentioning something about fetching a small snack.

He turned to find a tray of bread and cheese and even a cup of tea sitting on the bedside table. He promptly fell on the meal like a ravenous beast. Soon even the cold tea was all gone and his hunger was appeased, for the moment. But that tantalizing aroma wafting in from the kitchen still tempted him relentlessly. If it wasn't for his lack of apparel he would march out there and pilfer himself a fresh loaf or two. No doubt young Kitty would faint dead-away at the sight of him hobbling into the kitchen in just his small-clothes. The idea brought a wolfish smile to his lips.

From outside he heard the jingle-snap of chain and the clopping approach of a team. Gideon set aside the empty tray and, using the headboard for support, climbed to his feet. His body protested the move and brought a soft groan to his lips. He glanced down, noting the fresh bruises and scrapes. He looked an absolute mess but at least he could still move. The ankle throbbed and he decided he probably shouldn't put his full weight on it just yet. Slowly, using the furniture for support, he hobbled over to the window and peered through the rippled glass. There was a carriage and team just pulling up to the gate, a wiry little man on the seat.

Gideon recognized him instantly. It was Coombs, his father's steward. The little man was smartly dressed, neat and well turned out, but his garments didn't seem to reflect excessive wealth. If he was the culprit behind the late Viscount's financial downslide, he obviously did not spend all the money on his appearance. Gideon looked over the team and equipment the man handled so well. The carriage belonged to the Chesterton Estate. He was certain of that. Gideon could not say for certain if the horses were from the estate but they were definitely not the first stare in fashion. Although the team seemed strong and well paired for strength and size, they were not a perfect match. One was coal black while the other was more of a dark chocolate.

Coombs tied the reins and hopped down. As he watched the man approach the gate, Mrs. Sparrow stepped into view. Gideon cautiously kept back, hoping he wouldn't be seen but he needn't have worried. Coombs had eyes only for the lovely young widow. She had her back to the cottage and a sun-bonnet hid her features, but he would have recognized her anywhere. Those delectable curves called to him even from this distance. Then she turned her head and he could see she was smiling at Coombs in warm welcome. His ardor was instantly replaced by jealousy and suspicion.

As he watched, Coombs took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips. Gideon felt his dislike for the wiry steward intensify. The man was taking liberties. He wanted to rush out there and barge between them. Only the prudent voice of caution stopped him. The last thing he needed was to confront Coombs in his present state. How would it look? Him stalking out there to confront the man in just his small clothes. Not only would it surprise the couple, his mere presense here, in the cottage alone with the lovely widow would be fodder for the local gossips. Mrs. Sparrow's reputation would be in shreds. What a miserly way to repay his hostess for her kindness. Then he reminded himself that not only was she trespassing on his property, there was also the possibility that she and Coombs were in cahoots. He found it difficult to accept but the facts remained. He could not trust either of them until he sorted out what was going on.