“No, I did not.”
Whatever she knew, it was obviously significant enough that even this blithe gossipmonger was unwilling to spread the tale.
Mira sat quietly, letting the silence in the parlor grow, stretch out, make itself at home.
Mrs. Thomas looked decidedly uncomfortable. The corner of her lip twitched just slightly. She took in a deep breath, as though to say something, but then exhaled in a sigh. One hand drifted up to flutter aimlessly by her throat before dropping heavily back to her lap.
Finally, the dreadful quiet overcame her discretion, and Mrs. Thomas blurted out her secret.
Leaning farther forward, and spearing Mira with a meaningful look, she whispered, “Bridget Collins was with child when she died.”
Mira stifled a gasp. A baby?
Mrs. Thomas nodded sagely, as though she had heard Mira’s thought. “I would say she was five, maybe even six months gone. She was just a tiny thing, and she wore hand-me-down dresses that were always too large for her. Had I not tended her body and dressed her for her funeral, I never would have known, myself.” Mrs. Thomas tsked softly. “I don’t think her poor mother knew. And I hadn’t the heart to say anything. You mustn’t let it get back to her mother, you hear. I’ve kept that secret for so long. It just wouldn’t do to ruin the girl’s memory. Girls make mistakes sometimes, when they are in love. It doesn’t make her a bad girl, now does it?” Mrs. Thomas looked at Mira with a troubled gaze.
“No, Mrs. Thomas, it does not make her a bad girl. Love has a way of making us all a bit foolish, I fear.”
“Indeed.” Mrs. Thomas fixed Mira with another stare, heavy with meaning. “Love can make us foolish. So we must all, we women, be alert to the dangers around us. Some men have no honor, they do not deserve our love, and turning a blind eye to their faults, well, it can be dangerous.”
Mira had no doubt now that Mrs. Thomas saw herself as Mira’s personal oracle, bent on providing her dire prophesies, but couching her warnings in clever generalizations. Mrs. Thomas obviously believed Nicholas had been Bridget’s lover and had killed her, but she would not come right out and accuse him.
Keeping her voice low and her gaze firmly on Mrs. Thomas, Mira broached the subject of Tegen Quick. “Nan mentioned that another girl was murdered here, just a year after Bridget. So much sorrow for such a little town. That must have been difficult for you all.”
Mrs. Thomas nodded solemnly. “Oh, mercy yes. Little Tegen Quick. Of course she wasn’t so little when she met her end. She was becoming quite the striking young woman, then. But I remember when she was born, you know, the same year as my Charles. Hmm. I always thought she fancied my Charles. She was forever hanging about the churchyard, staying after services to ask questions, dropping in with mushrooms or herbs or other small gifts. But then, that spring, right before she died, she seemed to disappear. Oh, she still came to church every Sunday, sat with the whole brood of Quicks, but her eyes were far away, and she didn’t come to visit us anymore.”
Mrs. Thomas’s expression soured. “She found someone else to fancy, other than my Charles. Wounded Charles’s pride, she did. I heard them after one Sunday service, out in the garden. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help hearing them. Charles told Tegen that he was worried about her, because she had been so scarce. And, that little Tegen Quick told my Charles she had found someone who could take care of her, an older man with the means to keep her in style.” Mrs. Thomas gave an angry little shake of her head, but then she sighed.
“But it’s like I told my Charles, we cannot judge Tegen Quick too harshly. She grew up in that tiny little hovel, with six brothers and sisters, all having to fight for whatever scraps of food they could afford after their father got done drinking almost every farthing he made. It is no great surprise that she longed for the creature comforts, for the security of a wealthy protector. If only she had realized that there is more security in a loving marriage than any illicit affair. But, alas, she did not.”
Mira shook her head sadly. She would not have expected the vicar’s wife to show such empathy for these two wayward girls. There was such sadness in the woman’s voice as she talked about the two lost girls that a lump formed in Mira’s throat.