Cataloging these outrages felt good and let him start a grievance against her. “I’ve been called in to heal the results of concoctions and potions that only the very gullible or the very ill would believe in. They drank them, they rubbed them on their skin, they had faith in their powers to heal because they had been administered by people they trusted—healers. Instead,” he said, offering his indictment, “they were poisoned.”
“I don’t offer poisons.”
He ignored her. “And here is the part I don’t understand. Most of the healers appear worse off than their patients. They have hunched backs, sidewise limps, and fingers gnarled from years of digging through the woods for their precious roots, leaves, and berries. Although, I would never classify you as one of them, Mrs. Estep. In fact, with the right clothing, you could pass for a duchess in any ballroom in the land . . . and do you know, for the first time I understand my father’s ill-fated fascination with my greedy courtesan mother.”
He hadn’t meant to add that last.
It had flowed out of him along with the reminder of how easily women could manipulate situations for their own purpose. Just as Clarissa Taylor had caught him off guard yesterday and forced his hand. Or how the matrons had preyed upon his empathy to offer for her in the beginning.
“Did you just suggest that I am a woman of low reputation?” she asked as if stunned.
“You can see I have strong opinions,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t like him to spout off, but he’d not apologize. He meant every word. She’d be wise to leave Maidenshop now. “You say Old Andy left The Garland to you? In all the time I’ve known him, and Andy and I were close, the man never mentioned any family or the name Estep. In fact, perhaps it would be better if I spoke to your husband?”
“You would have some difficulty, sir. He’s in hell.” Her tone was clipped. “However, with your attitude, I have no doubt the two of you would have rubbed along well. Thank you for not holding back on your opinions, Doctor. Your words are strong, but so am I. You say you were close to my uncle? Then you must know he is rolling in his grave at the current state of his beloved tavern.”
She was right.
That didn’t mean Ned was going to trust her. “Well, he has been rolling in his grave for months without a word from you.”
That comment drained the color from her face. “I just recently received the news.”
Cynically, Ned doubted that. “From whom?”
Her expressive brows came together in annoyance at his tone. Good. He didn’t want her to think of him as a friend, because he wasn’t. He needed her gone. Vanquished. Never to appear again. And not just because of her ownership claim. She threatened him in ways he didn’t understand.
Except, instead of disappearing, she snapped, “Reverend Summerall.”
Summerall was the cleric at St. Martyr’s Church down the road. That was not the response Ned had wanted. “I will check with him.”
“Please do.”
“In the meantime, let me see your proof that Andy left The Garland to you.”
“So you can destroy it? Oh, no.”
“Mrs. Estep—”
“Please, call me Gemma. I did not like the man I married and carrying his name is a burden I refuse to lift a moment longer.”
Ned was not going to call her by her given name. It was too personal and he needed as much distance from her as possible. “Mrs. Estep, I am a man of honor. I wouldn’t destroy anything of yours.”
“Ah, yes, you are the chairman of the Logical Men’s Society. See? I know exactly who you are. And who they are. Such honorable men—”
“We are.”
She made a dismissive noise. “Look around the room, sir. Certainly, you of all people can detect the scent of urine. But if not, the sheets on the cot in my uncle’s bedroom have been defiled, and recently. I know nothing honorable has been going on here. If anything, I may be saving the reputation of The Garland.”
Her accusation clicked his suspicions about what had happened after he’d left last night. The newer, younger members of the Society had most certainly been abusing their privileges.
At the same time, he was not going to hand over The Garland to her. “Perhaps it is best if we send for the magistrate.” The local magistrate was Marsden. His great-grandfather had been the founding member of the Logical Men’s Society. He would see matters Ned’s way.
“By all means, send for him. I will happily present my proof to him. My uncle was the only family I had left. My claim is valid.”
“If your claim was valid, you would have been here months ago.” He shook his head. “No, Mrs. Estep—”
“I requested you call me Gemma.” There was fire in her voice.
Ned smiled. Who had the upper hand now? “I am challenging your right to this building and this freehold. The Society members and I wish to purchase this building with the approval of the members of this village. The Garland has a storied history in Maidenshop.”
“That story is about to change, sir. I have decided to turn The Garland into a tea garden. For ladies.”
“What?” Words almost failed him. “What of the Logical Men’s Society?”
“You will have to find somewhere else to meet. May I recommend the church? I’m certain the Reverend Summerall would enjoy seeing all of you in the pews.”
That was provocative, because Summerall would.
He took a step toward her, changing his tactic, trying to be somewhat conciliatory without giving her anything. “Do you not understand? The Society has been around for generations. You can’t close it. Why, even your uncle was a proud member.”
Unmoved, she gave a world-weary sigh. “Times change, Mr. Thurlowe. And I’m not closing it. I’m giving your precious Society the boot. The Garland will be a tea garden where I sell potions and soaps that appeal to gentlewomen. Perhaps we will start our own society. The Logical Women’s Society. What do you think?”
“I think you are ridiculous.”
“Well, then you know how I feel about you. And your Society that has destroyed this place. Now, you may go, Mr. Thurlowe. As you can see, I have my work cut out for me.”
“You are ordering me to leave, Mrs. Estep?”
She did not like her married name. Her lips curled as if she’d like to take a bite out of him, but then she recovered. “Yes, I did order you to leave. Go.”
“Not a worry, Mrs. Estep. I shall go, Mrs. Estep. First, I will find the Reverend Summerall. Then I will go for the magistrate. You will not take over The Garland, Mrs. Estep, without legal grounds to do so.”
On that note, because he didn’t want her to have the last word, he shoved his hat on his head, turned on his heel, and walked out.
Had he really thought her attractive? Mrs. Estep with her imperial ways was one of the most annoying women he’d ever met. He could spend the day arguing with her or he could muster reinforcements in the form of Mars and the good reverend himself. Once confronted by authority, her claims would fall apart, he’d wager.
He slammed the door firmly behind him.
Hippocrates had been half-asleep at the post where he’d been tied, else he would have wandered back to his paddock. He started at the sound and then snorted his desire to be off. Ned was convinced Hippocrates liked traveling the countryside more than he did.