Allie regarded the snake with a blend of revulsion and curiosity. “Where is he from?”
“Virginia, the eastern United States. Sailors sometimes bring them on board ship. They’re keen to eat up all the mice and rats, and unlike cats, they don’t leave scent everywhere they go. This kind is usually shy, but they can bite. Would you like to pet him?”
“No.” Allie stretched out a single finger toward the snake as she spoke. “Is he slimy?”
“Touch him and find out. He’s without any family, if he had ears they’d be broken from your alarum, and he’s far from familiar surroundings. I’d say he’s due a little kindness.”
And damned if Beck didn’t feel a pang of pity for the rubbishing snake.
“I’d say he’s due to be put on a ship back to Virginia,” North muttered, but he must have understood what Beck was about and dutifully stroked his hand over the snake’s black scales. “Shall we name him?”
“He’s smooth,” Allie said, quickly withdrawing her finger then passing it over the snake again. “Mama?”
Sara met Beck’s gaze, a world of conflicted maternal feelings in her eyes, but she petted the snake as North had. “He is smooth, and he catches the light on his scales.”
That bestirred the artist in Allie, and she eyed the snake more critically.
“What shall we do with him?” Beck asked. “I can send him back to his Maker, Allie, or I can find somebody in the village going to Portsmouth and put him on an outbound ship.”
North sent him a look that clearly indicated the sharp end of a shovel would be a much simpler solution, but Beck waited for Allie to make up her mind.
“Send him home,” Allie decided. “If he has family, they’ll miss him.”
“Oh, for the love…” North put his fists on his hips and glowered at the snake. “I suppose he’ll need a little snake palace to bide in until his royal barge departs, and a name.” He took the snake from Beck like so much dirty washing. “As the name Boo-boo is taken, and Screech lacks a certain dignity, his name will be Milton, and I will find him a suitably impressive dwelling and take him into the village tomorrow, there to begin his homeward odyssey, about which he will no doubt write at great length, setting a trend among all the fashionable, well-traveled black rat snakes.”
He stomped off, lecturing the snake about getting ideas above his lowly station, while Beck silently applauded a very convincing reestablishment of the status quo.
“Quite an adventure for you.” Beck held out a hand to Allie. “I suppose you want a snake now for your birthday instead of a pony?”
“A pony?” Allie’s eyes grew round, and she began to chatter volubly, completely missing the wink Beck shot Sara and Polly.
The topic of Allie’s birthday figured prominently at the dinner table, with various outlandish suggestions being made regarding her gifts and appropriate activities for the occasion. North joined the group midway through the meal, having constructed a wood and wire cage for Milton.
“He’s taking a nap after his ordeal,” North reported. “He’s been rendered temporarily deaf by a certain young lady’s stunning propensity to summon help, as have I. Ah, I see you left me a dollop of potatoes and three entire green beans. I’m touched.”
Polly rose, smiling. “There’s more.”
North reached over and slid the butter away from Beck’s plate toward his own. By tacit agreement, the adults were not going to discuss the broken axle or the snake at the table, not while Allie remained among them. But when she’d disappeared to take Hildy her scraps, Beck glanced around the kitchen.
“When Allie has found her bed, I’d like the rest of us to convene in my sitting room.”
Sara nodded, resignation and worry reflected in her gaze.
“Sara and I will be doing the dishes tonight, Polly,” Beck said. “You’ve cooked for a legion all week and can use the time to get off your feet.”
“Excellent suggestion,” North said. “Though perhaps you’d take a turn with me in the garden rather than get off your feet?”
A glance passed between them, one Beck didn’t try to parse, though North was a fool to walk away from a woman who looked at him that way.
When Beck was left alone in the kitchen with Sara, he did, indeed, set to clearing the table and washing the dishes.
“You sit too,” Beck said, stacking plates at the table. “I’ll tend to this, and you enjoy a second cup. I wanted to talk with you first, though, before we open discussion with the others.”
Sara rose and slipped her arms around his middle. “I’ve never been so grateful to see another person in my life as I was when you came skidding into that barn, Beckman. That idiot snake kept slipping and slithering off the hay fork and glaring at me and waving his tongue about…”
“You would have gotten him,” Beck assured her, setting down his load of dishes to return her embrace. “He was as upset as you were, though.”
“Polly wanted to get an ax.”
“A shovel would have given her longer reach, but all’s well, even for the snake.”
“You handled it beautifully.” Sara held him a moment longer. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, but, Sara? The broken axle on the wagon today? It wasn’t an accident, and I suspect this snake was purposely put where Allie and Boo-boo like to play.”
“I haven’t asked Allie for the details. I gather the beast was somewhere in the vicinity of the doghouse.”
“It could be coincidence. The snake might have come in on a wagonload of goods shipped into Portsmouth, but I don’t think we can take that chance.”
“What are you saying?”
“If the snake was put here deliberately, then we’ve escalated from malicious mischief toward replaceable property, to a threat of real harm to Allie or you ladies. Even nonvenomous snakes have a nasty bite, Sara. They’re carnivores, and the wound can easily get infected.”
Sara dropped her arms from Beck’s waist and stepped back. “Somebody wants Allie
“Or doesn’t care if harm befalls her, which suggests to me we’re not dealing with a greedy uncle.”
“How do you figure that?” Sara moved off to pour herself a cup of tea, her movements mechanical, her eyes unfocused.
“Why would Tremaine stir up so much trouble to get his hands on a talented artist then put the artist herself in harm’s way?”
“I don’t know.”
She sounded so forlorn, so uncertain. Beck silently cursed whoever had let the snake into the barn. The scare to Allie was likely to be quickly forgotten, not so the scare to her mother.
“I think we need to have a serious talk with one Tremaine St. Michael, Sara. Sooner rather than later.”
“You want us to confront him?”
“I do, but here, where we’ve got some support and we can keep a close eye not just on Tremaine but on Allie as well.”
“You’re determined to invite him here?” Sara worried a thumbnail between her front teeth. “Is that necessary?”
“I think it is. I wanted to discuss it with you first.”
“I could take Allie away somewhere.”
He understood the impulse to flee but understood as well that it seldom resulted in a real solution—and wasn’t that an insight to be pondered some other fine, long day? “And if he was able to find you here, using your maiden name, what will you do when he finds you there too?”
She glowered at her teacup. “I’ll go to America with the damned snake. It’s my job to keep Allie safe, and I’ll go to the ends of the earth to do that.”
She wasn’t arguing, which Beck took as an indication that she was closer to emotional collapse than even she knew, so he took her teacup from her and wrapped her in another hug. “The ends of the earth are not as worthy of inspection as one might think. It’s time to stop dancing around silences and innuendos, Sara. We’ll get St. Michael here, on our turf, and determine his motives. My brother is an earl, my step-grandmother a marchioness, and my pockets are full to bursting. I’m connected to more damned titles than you can count, and I will bend all of my resources to see that Allie stays safe with you.”
