"She didn't marry Noah." Rose said through gritted teeth. Wait! Why did he know? Oh! Because he had been listening at the door, that was why. "Can I be excused, ser?"

She wanted to cry alone.

“Hold on,” Zechariah said, at his leisure. “I have not finished.”

By finished, he meant his tea.

He blew on it.

That made her want to burst into tears all over, but she swallowed and stood there, waiting for his next mocking question. She bit her tongue to keep new tears from springing in her eyes.

Sip.

Silence.

Exhale.

Sip. He smiled as he swallowed.

… “Who is the generous gentleman who took her?”

That was entirely not his business. She wanted to tell him, so badly. But she was afraid of his rage. And afraid to lose the last two weeks of wages. She hated this man.

"A farmer from Castleton, ser..." she answered, her face burning.

Watching her squirm almost made up for his wasted time with Simon. (Ha, ha ha.)

“Which farmer?”

He swirled the spoon through his tea, just to relish that she would have to wash it again.

She looked at him confused. That didn't have anything to do with either of them. Why was he asking? "Ye wouldn't know 'im, ser," she tried to evade the question.

Zechariah looked over his cup at Rose, down his nose.

“Did I ask if you think I would know him, Miss Ward?”

"No ser..." she said nervously. "Tobias Appleton, ser." Surely he didn't hate her that much that he would do something with that information? She wanted to believe he wouldn't, but she didn't.

He had, in fact, never heard of him. Nonetheless, he took a long sip of tea and closed his eyes in thought.

“Ah, Tobias,” he said, as if he knew him well.

Then, he finished his tea and pushed it dismissively aside, returning his attention to his newspaper as though not a thing had changed.

… He needed time and space to deliberate on how to fuck this all up, after all.