Bess stood under the ancient apple tree, with the fruit already beginning to form and the leaves providing shade from the sun. “Well? What did her Ladyship want?”
Smith dismounted and stretched his legs. “Lady Charlotte informed me her husband has ordered a man to kill me.”
“That was kind of her ladyship.” Bess plucked a primrose from under the tree, placed it behind her left ear and then did the same to Smith. “There, John. You look lovely like that. Who has Lord Fitzwarren sent?”
“Harry Black, according to Her Ladyship.”
“Ah.” Bess stepped back and admired Smith. “And do we trust her Ladyship’s word?”
“About as far as I could throw the Spike,” Smith assured her.
“And maybe not quite as far as that,” Bess said. “What are you going to do with the warning?”
“I’ll consider it,” Smith
