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him, only to watch her
to walk straight past, her nose in the air as she made her way
toward the far end of the room where she began to ferry tankards to
the bar. There was no jocular teasing or friendly conversation for
him. Jonathan had a sneaking suspicion that she was avoiding him,
and could only wonder why.
    She tried to
remain visibly relaxed and at ease with the world around her, but
it was so very difficult when he seemed to be watching her every
move. What did he want with her? It was on the tip of her tongue to
ask him if she had a mark on her shirt while she had cleared the
small table next to him. She had to bite her lip from issuing him
with a biting put down, but could feel his eyes boring into her
back as she made her way to the far corner of the busy tap in a
desperate attempt to get away from him. He had been studying her
closely since he had arrived, and it was starting to grate on her
nerves. Did he want to talk to her? He had certainly made no
attempt to approach her to engage in conversation before. There had
been plenty of opportunity to ask her questions if he wanted to
but, instead, he had sat on the fringes of the room with his friend
and had watched them all. She didn’t like it. Did he suspect
something? She wasn’t sure but she certainly wasn’t going to ask him.
    “Come on now,
our beds are calling.”
    “Kat, are you
going home soon?” Jonathan asked from behind her. She jumped and
whirled toward him. She couldn’t keep the astonishment off her face
and struggled not to take the hesitant step backward at his almost
overwhelming presence. The man he was with, the local magistrate,
Mr Hamilton-Smythe moved to stand beside him. What did they want
with her?
    “No, not yet.
There is work to do here,” she replied hesitantly with a slight
frown.
    “I was going to
offer you a walk home,” Jonathan replied smoothly, unsure where the
surge of protectiveness came from. She undoubtedly did the same
walk every night while he was away, and didn’t have anyone watching
her back then. Still, there was something going on in the area.
Until he got to the bottom of what was going on, he felt driven to
ensure that she was safe.
    “I am fine
thank you. I will be here for a while yet. Please don’t let me keep
you. Harry needs to close up for the night.”
    “I will say
goodnight then,” Jonathan murmured. He was about to turn around but
paused to glance back at her. “Thanks for reading to uncle.”
    Kat stared at
him. She had no idea that he knew she made thrice weekly trips to
Dentham Hall to read to his uncle, Bruce. “I don’t mind. I enjoy
it.”
    “He asked me to
find out if he will see you tomorrow?”
    Kat nodded
warily and flicked a glance to Mr Hamilton-Smythe, who nodded
politely as he made his way to the door.
    “That’s fine, I
will see him tomorrow.”
    “You have
chapter two to begin, I believe. Uncle’s biggest regret is that his
sight is so poor, he cannot read himself but I know he thoroughly
enjoys your company.” As do I, Jonathan sighed to
himself.
    Kat nodded
sympathetically, strangely lost for words. It was an unusual
arrangement for the local bar maid to read to the elderly relation
of the lord of the parish, but theirs worked well. Jonathan’s uncle
Bruce had heard Kat reading to some children in the village one day
at the village fete. The following day, she had received a summons
to the house whereupon Bruce had explained his failing sight had
rendered him unable to focus on the printed words in his books. He
had offered her payment if she would come to the house twice a week
to read to him. Kat had delighted in the prospect of being able to
enjoy some of the books in the vast library at Dentham Hall, and
had eschewed payment just to be able to read some of the classics
she had only ever heard about. Their arrangement had been a
mutually beneficial one. They shared tea while Kat curled up and
read to Bruce, who studied the fire and listened to each chapter
with the