When she turned around to survey the room, she found two strangers in the room along with Nye. They both stood at her entrance, though she thought with some show of reluctance and she did not appreciate the insolent look one of them gave her, whose stare was very bold. Coolly holding his gaze until he lowered his own, she then glanced toward the other younger uniformed man whose manner was more respectful.
“These are a pair of Excisemen for her majesty, Mina,” Nye said clearing his throat. “Mr. Havilland,” he said, nodding toward the one Mina had taken an instant dislike to. “And Mr. Guthrie. They’re both Riding Officers based nearby at St Ives. Gentlemen, this is my wife, Mrs. Mina Nye.”
“Your servant, madam,” drawled the elder very insincerely, as the younger executed a punctilious bow. “I had not heard tell that Nye here had taken a wife.” He cast a sardonic look in Nye’s direction which was ignored.
Mina came into the room. “I am happy to make your acquaintance, gentlemen,” she said repressively and headed for a chair before the tea tray. “Can I offer you some refreshment?” she asked in her most colorless tone.
Looking up, she thought she saw a startled look on the one’s face and a frown on the other, before they both hurriedly assented. Having ascertained that the elder took lemon and the younger a spoonful of sugar, she poured and guessing that Nye would take his black, pushed a cup and saucer toward him also. Having ascertained that the elder took lemon and the younger a spoonful of sugar with their tea, she poured and guessing that Nye would take his black, she pushed a cup and saucer toward him also. He took it wordlessly and retreated to the window.
“My, how civilized we are today,” said Havilland with a sneer. “You will scarcely believe it Guthrie, but in the five years since I’ve been posted in Cornwall, I’ve never been received in this establishment anywhere other than the taproom prior until today.”
Guthrie colored faintly but Mina took a sip of her tea. She glanced at Nye who was stood feet planted part by the window, looking supremely unconcerned. She wondered if his attitude was genuine or feigned. Certainly, Edna had seemed badly rattled by this visit.
“One can only suppose,” Havilland continued, not having drawn a response. “That a wife must have a civilizing effect even on an establishment such as this.” His lip curled. “You are from these parts, ma’am?” he shot suddenly at Mina.
“I am not,” she answered mildly. “I was raised all my life in the vicinity of Bath. You are familiar with that part of the country?”
Havilland seemingly surprised by the conversational turn, did not speak for a moment. While he paused, Guthrie leaned forward in his seat. “I am ma’am,” he answered. “I have spent many a pleasant stay in that city. Both my sisters took their schooling in Bath and I was accustomed to visiting them there.”
“Indeed?” Mina asked, turning to him with a smile. “May I enquire as to which school your sisters attended?”
“It was a school situated very near the center,” Guthrie responded. “The Alexander Seminary for Young Ladies.”
“I know it well. A particularly good school with a solid reputation,” she said approvingly.
“You know something of schooling, madam?” Havilland interrupted them skeptically. “Curious. I did not know publican’s wives were so interested in education,” he said with a short laugh.
Mina watched Guthrie color at his colleague’s rudeness. She placed her cup down carefully. “Perhaps you do not know many publican’s wives who were also schoolteachers for several years,” she suggested calmly. His eyebrows snapped together, and she smiled coldly at him. “My father ran a school in Bath for many years.” Delighted that she seemed to have taken the wind from his sails, she turned back to Guthrie. “I take it your sisters are no longer employed in lessons.”
“No indeed ma’am,” he replied. “To their very great relief. One is lately married and the other employed as a companion to a distant aunt.”
Mina’s smile grew warmer. “I am sure their schooling will give them an excellent foundation in life to build upon,” she said approvingly.
“Your current surroundings,” Havilland said, slamming down his cup and saucer with jarring loudness. “Must be very different, I’ll wager to the schoolroom.” His thin lips twitched. “One cannot help but wonder how the two of you ever met.” He raised a supercilious eyebrow at Mina.
“Allow me to assuage your curiosity, good sir,” she responded. “We were introduced by a mutual acquaintance. Perhaps you have heard of him? Viscount Faris of Vance Park. He is I believe, quite well known in these parts.” She enjoyed the way Havilland’s face froze into an expression of disbelief.
“Lord Faris,” Guthrie said, seeming anxious to fill the stunned silence which stretched out. “Indeed, I have heard of him. I believe he keeps a fine stable and often races his thoroughbreds at meets.”
Which was news to Mina, but she made sure to keep her bright smile intact. “As to that, I could not say,” she demurred. “My late father was most opposed to gambling of any sort.”
“Such sentiment does him credit, Mrs. Nye,” Guthrie responded politely. “I am sure.”
She smiled at him agreeably. “Can I refresh your cups, good sirs?” she asked glancing about. Guthrie passed her his empty cup with alacrity, though Havilland declined with an irritable shake of his head. Glancing across
