CHAPTER FIVE — A DINNER INVITATION

Julian spent the day preparing for his supper as if nothing in the household were unusual.
He inspected the silver, corrected the placement of chairs, and ordered the best wine brought up from the cellar.
In the kitchen, the cook worked beside two assistants who had been awake since before dawn.
No one asked whether Samuel had eaten.
He spent the morning repairing a carriage wheel that had been damaged on Julian’s Richmond journey.
The wheel itself was sound, but its iron rim had begun to separate from the wood.
He worked slowly, using the proper tools, because the steward had already accused him of wasting time.
At noon Liza came to the carriage shed.
“They brought the picture into the upstairs sitting room,” she said.


“Did you see it?”
“It was wrapped in velvet.”
“Who carried it?”
“Mr. Pike and Mr. Pritchard.”
She paused, then produced the small paper taken from the false cloak.
Samuel read FOR THE WINDOW and gave it back.
“Keep it hidden.”
“It isn’t proof of anything by itself.”
“No.”
“But it tells us they dressed somebody.”
Samuel set the wheel against the shed wall.
“Have they asked about me?”
“Pritchard wants you in the house tomorrow night.”
“For what reason?”
“He said every servant must appear when called.”
Samuel looked at his sister.
“Then you should stay away from the stairs.”
Liza shook her head.
“They can order me wherever they please.”
“Then at least don’t let them put you into that cloak.”
Before she answered, footsteps sounded outside.
Pritchard entered and surveyed the tools.


“Samuel, you’ll come to my office at sunset.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mr. Vale has something important to discuss.”
Pritchard studied Liza.
“Your work is upstairs.”
She picked up her sewing basket and went out.
Pritchard waited until she was gone.
“You have been spending too much time talking.”
“I have been repairing the carriage, sir.”
“Repairs don’t require a committee.”
Samuel bent to lift the wheel.
“I’ll be at your office at sunset.”
Pritchard left without another word.
At sunset Samuel found Julian and Martin waiting in the steward’s office.
The desk was cleared, and a single chair stood against the far wall.
Julian did not invite him to sit.
“I understand my wife has been behaving strangely,” he said.
Samuel kept his hands still.
“I can’t speak for Mrs. Vale.”
Martin stood beside the window with his hat under one arm.
Julian continued.
“She has become fixated on her failure to provide a child.”
Samuel said nothing.
“She may have made inappropriate suggestions to you.”
Samuel met his gaze.
“She came to the stable.”
“Did she ask you to enter the house?”
“Yes, sir.”
Julian looked at Martin as if confirming a prediction.
“Did she touch you?”
“No, sir.”
“Did she offer you anything?”
“She asked for help with her marriage.”
The silence that followed was not the silence of surprise.
It was the silence of two men deciding how to use an answer.
Julian walked behind the desk.
“You will tell the guests tomorrow that my wife approached you with a shameful proposal.”
Samuel’s throat tightened.
“I cannot testify to words she didn’t speak.”
“Then testify to what she did speak.”
“Those words do not mean what you intend people to hear.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Your opinions are not required.”
Martin moved a little closer to the door.
Samuel noticed.
Julian opened a drawer and took out a folded paper.
“This is a statement prepared for you.”
Samuel knew what would happen if he signed it or made a mark beneath its sentences.
The statement would become his own account, even though he had never been allowed to choose its meaning.
“I cannot read every word of that paper, sir,” he said.
Julian laid it on the desk.
“Then Mr. Kersey will read it aloud.”
Martin did not reach for the document.
Julian waited.
At last Martin said, “Perhaps this is unnecessary.”
Julian turned sharply.
“We agreed on the arrangements.”
“We agreed to leave.”
Samuel kept his face expressionless.
Neither man noticed that the phrase had been spoken in front of him.
Julian pushed the statement toward Samuel.
“You will be called tomorrow after supper.”
“And afterward?” Samuel asked.
“Afterward, your future will be decided.”
Samuel looked at Martin.
The gentleman’s eyes had dropped to the floor.
“That is all,” Julian said.
Samuel left without touching the paper.
Outside, the air smelled of fallen leaves and distant woodsmoke.
He had not escaped anything.
He had merely discovered the room in which they intended to decide his fate.