The bruise above his eyebrow had faded to yellow.
Mrs. Pike led him to the small sitting room and remained nearby with a tray of fresh bread.
Emily stood when he entered, but Daniel asked her to sit.
“I owe you an explanation,” he said.
“You owe me nothing beyond the truth.”
“Then I shall begin there.”
He told her that his mother had once been acquainted with Eleanor Whitcomb.
The two women had supported a school for girls in the district long before Arthur inherited Oak Haven.
When Eleanor died, the school lost a generous patron and gradually closed.
Daniel had found Eleanor’s name while reviewing old charitable accounts.
Later, the railway documents revealed the connection to Emily’s trust.
He had intended to call on Arthur openly after examining the eastern boundary.
Instead, his carriage was attacked on a lonely stretch of road.
His driver had been thrown from the box, and Daniel had escaped through a drainage ditch.
The men had taken his watch and papers but had shown little interest in his money.
“That troubled me,” he said.
“Most highwaymen begin with the purse.”
Emily remembered the blood on his collar.
“Do you think someone knew you were coming?”
“I think someone wished to delay me.”
“Do you suspect my father?”
Daniel took his time answering.
“I have no proof of that.”
Emily appreciated the distinction.
Her father accused people first and looked for evidence afterward.
Daniel had enough power to ruin a man with a rumor, yet he refused to offer one.
“I should also tell you that I knew your name before I entered the house,” he said.
“I knew you were the beneficiary named in the disputed settlement.”
“Then why did you not tell me?”
“Because I was injured, suspicious, and foolishly certain I could manage the matter alone.”
She considered him across the small table.
“You were kind to me.”
“I tried to be.”
“I do not know whether that was kindness or strategy.”
Daniel lowered his gaze.
“Neither do I have the right to decide what you should call it.”
Outside, the bakery boy shouted for a delivery cart to move.
The ordinary noise filled the silence between them.
Daniel reached into his coat and placed a folded letter on the table.
It was an offer from the trustees of the old village school.
They wanted someone to inventory the surviving books and reopen a reading room for local girls.
The salary was modest but real.
