“I’ll run her out of the village!”
Edward looked down at the old man. How had someone this pinched and disapproving sired a son like Toby? “How?”
“I’m Justice of the Peace here.” Triumph gleamed in Strickland’s eyes. “I’ll see her prosecuted.” He sipped the sherry. His hand trembled as he held the glass, but his high color was fading and his breathing was steadier.
“On what charge, sir?”
Strickland shrugged. “Whatever I wish.”
Edward bit his tongue. I don’t think that’s how your authority is supposed to be used.
Strickland swallowed the last of the sherry.
“More, sir?”
Strickland shook his head.
Edward took the glass and placed it on the sideboard. When he turned back, he saw the old man struggle feebly to stand. “You should be abed, sir.”
Strickland sagged back into the armchair
