Chapter Six
A woman answered the knock. Tam could tell with one glance that she was a servant.
“I wish to see Drewet Ilbertson,” Hazel said.
Tam gritted his teeth. He wanted to grab hold of her arm and yank her away, tow her back to the vale. He curled his fingers into his palms.
“Drewet Ilbertson? Ain’t no Drewet Ilbertson lives ’ere,” the woman said. “It’s Drewet Blacklock as lives ’ere.”
Hazel lifted her chin. “Then it is him I wish to see.”
“He’s stepped out,” the servant said. “Missus is in, if you want to see ’er.”
Hazel lowered her chin. “Missus?”
“Widow Mercer, as was.”
Hazel’s brow creased. “Widow Mercer?”
“Widow Mercer, as was, ’til she married Drewet Blacklock,” the woman explained, her tone patronizing and impatient.
Hazel paled. Her hands clutched one another. “It’s
