Page 1 of A Treacherous Treasure

Chapter One

January, 1811, Derbyshire, England

Rebecca finished the tiny sock she’d been knitting as two tears dripped off her cheeks and onto her hand.

She took a deep breath then dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. She’d spent too much time crying. And these socks would warm the feet of the new baby that the Carter family had just welcomed into the world.

“Why do you torture yourself?” Rebecca’s mother had said when she caught her crying a month after she lost her unborn child.

“I’m not torturing myself.” Rebecca was still sad. Was that so strange?

“The doctor said you are well enough. You can try again.”

Rebecca wanted to retort that she didn’t want her child to have a father who was unfaithful to his family. But she said nothing. Her mother would only stare sadly at the floor and mumble something about hoping Arthur Heywood would change his ways.

A man who was unfaithful didn’t change his ways, did he? Not when his whole life’s aim was to make conquests of other men’s wives.

Rebecca busied herself with gathering the things she would take to the Carter family. They’d had five children in seven years, and the poor mother was pale and sickly. Rebecca feared she wouldn’t last the coming winter, so she was determined to bring her nourishing food as often as she could.

She went into the kitchen to gather the rest of the things, taking the servant girl Agatha with her to help carry the baskets.

The cold, crisp air and sunshine on the lane seemed to lift some of the heaviness in her chest. Then a brightly colored bird with a red face and yellow wing flew across their path.

“How pretty. Agatha, was that a goldfinch?” Rebecca asked.

“I believe it was, ma’am.”

Rebecca took deep breaths as they walked along, forcing her mind not to linger on anything sad. It was a lovely day, cold but not too cold, a few bright white clouds in a blue sky.

“I wonder that they call it a goldfinch,” she said, forcing herself to make conversation, which always took her mind off her troubles. “It only has one tiny spot of yellow on its wing and has that red cap.”

“They should call it a redcap instead of a goldfinch.” Agatha smiled up at her.

“I quite agree. Redcap is much more accurate.”

When they arrived at the small home of the Carters, the mother greeted them at the door. She was quite thin, though she’d just given birth, and she held a small child of about two years old on her hip.

“Mrs. Heywood. How good of you to visit.”

“We brought a few things for your larder.” Rebecca held up a basket.

“You are so good.” Mrs. Carter’s eyes swam with tears. “Won’t you come in?”

“Just for a moment.”

Rebecca and Agatha went inside and sat on the only two upholstered chairs in the room, while Mrs. Carter sat on a stool and rocked her baby’s cradle with her foot.

The sleeping baby’s face started to crimp, his fists moving about. He was about the same age her baby would have been, if he or she had lived.

A pain went through her chest. She had to look away from the baby and blink back the tears that threatened.

Mrs. Carter’s three older children stared up at her from the floor, the oldest only seven years old.

They talked for a few minutes about Mr. Carter’s harvest that year, which had been “nothing out of the common way, but we’re not complaining,” Mrs. Carter said.

After a few more minutes, Rebecca stood up to go.

At the door, Rebecca said softly as she and Agatha were leaving, “Please send for me if you become ill.” Rebecca let Agatha move far enough away that she couldn’t hear what she was saying. “I can send some remedies. I know you and Mr. Carter don’t have any near relations, so if you need help with the children, since they’re so young, I will have a servant come and help look after you.”