by Delia Parr
With visions of water spilled in Lester Burke’s room, Emma nodded. “Maybe you should.”
“I really, really hope you had a pleasant time with Mr. Breckenwith,” the young woman gushed before hurrying out of the room.
Emma drew in a deep breath, crossed the dining room, and followed the sweet aromas to her mother-in-law’s domain. Prepared for a thorough questioning about her afternoon from both of the elderly women waiting for her, she opened the door to the kitchen.
Mother Garrett was standing slicing the first of three loaves of pumpernickel bread on the kitchen table, while Aunt Frances sat arranging a plate of fried apple cider doughnuts. “It certainly smells good in here. And it’s nice and warm, too,” Emma offered by way of announcing herself before closing the door behind her.
Aunt Frances immediately rose from her seat. “You must be chilled to the bone, you’ve got so little meat on you. I put water on the stove a bit ago to make you a good hot cup of tea. It won’t take more than a minute or two,” she promised as she hurried to the cookstove.
“Thank you,” Emma replied as she walked over to a peg on the wall near the back door. She hung up her cape under Mother Garrett’s watchful gaze. “What’s on the cookstove that smells so good?”
“Beans with molasses and bacon.”
With her mouth watering, Emma joined her mother-in-law at the kitchen table and snatched the heel of the still-warm bread. “You’re rather mum,” she noted before taking a nibble. “I thought you’d start peppering me with questions about my afternoon the moment I arrived.”
Mother Garrett stopped slicing and narrowed her gaze while staring at Emma as she sat down. “I didn’t ask you anything because I was too busy thinking.”
Emma raised a brow. “Thinking? About what?”
“About how oddly you were walking,” Mother Garrett replied before resuming her task.
Aunt Frances set a cup of tea in front of Emma and sat down beside her. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. To my eye, you were walking very normally,” she murmured and patted Emma’s arm.
Mother Garrett sighed. “Which is precisely my point,” she argued and waved the knife in the air as she spoke. “After you went riding with the Mitchell sisters last fall, you were so sore you couldn’t walk normally again for a week.”
Emma cringed. “True.”
“Which makes we wonder how it is that after spending the entire afternoon riding with Mr. Breckenwith, when you haven’t been on a horse since then, you don’t seem to have any trouble walking at all. That’s what I think is odd,” Mother Garrett explained.
Emma took a sip of tea and shrugged. “I could argue that I was gone the entire day last fall, not a few hours like today, but in all truth, I rode scarcely more than half an hour this afternoon,” she offered and continued to sip at her tea.
Mother Garrett laid down her knife, glanced over at Emma’s soiled cape, and frowned. “You got tossed off that horse, didn’t you? I knew going for a horseback ride wasn’t a good idea, and I told that man so! You don’t look like you hurt yourself, but you certainly could have,” she huffed. “If he wanted to take you for a ride, he should have brought a carriage, and I have every mind to make sure of it next time.”
Emma sputtered and choked on her tea. “You talked to him? You actually talked to him about taking me for a ride this afternoon? When?” she asked as she caught her breath.
“While we were waiting for you to come down for dinner on Sunday,” Aunt Frances replied. “He listened to Mercy’s concerns well enough, but the man certainly knows his own mind where you’re concerned.”
“But not very forthcoming about where he intended to take you,” Mother Garrett complained. “Exactly where did he take you, or is that a secret?”
Emma shrugged. “It’s not a secret, but since we never actually rode far enough to get there, I wouldn’t be able to tell you where we were headed.”
Aunt Frances brightened. “Then it’s a surprise. Did he tell you when he would be able to take you there?”
Mother Garrett scowled. “Don’t let her keep changing the subject like that, Frances,” she cautioned before looking directly at Emma. “Tell me how you fell off the horse.”
“I didn’t fall off the horse. I’ve never fallen off a horse in my life!” Emma exclaimed and wrapped her hands around her teacup and let out a sigh. If and when she did decide to be courted formally, there were no two ways around it—the three of them had to sit down and discuss exactly what rules each of them would follow. The first rule was that she was not going to be questioned about every moment she had spent with the man.
“If you didn’t fall, how did those pine needles get all over your cape? Really, Emma. First chicken feathers and now pine needles! You should take better care of your cape. It’s the only one you’ve got. And if you weren’t riding, what were you doing all afternoon?” Mother Garrett prompted, pressing for more information.
“I wasn’t riding because we had a change of plans. We stopped at Gray’s Tavern, where I bought the panther from Mr. Gray and had it destroyed so it wouldn’t suffer any longer,” she said, much to the older woman’s surprise.
Confident they were alone and would not be overheard because the guests respected the kitchen as a domain reserved for the permanent residents and staff, she quickly explained what she had seen inside the makeshift tent. “My cape got dirty when I helped Mr. Breckenwith bury the panther in the woods behind the gazebo,” she informed them, rendering both Aunt Frances and Mother Garrett speechless.
“I’ll talk to Reverend Glenn and tell him the entire story, too, but I think it’s wise to keep the location of the animal’s grave a secret,” she cautioned, all too familiar with Mother Garrett’s struggle to keep a secret of any kind. “Otherwise, we’re bound to have any number of profit-hungry people digging up the grounds to find the panther and plunder its body for gruesome souvenirs to sell to others. Mr. Breckenwith went to a great deal of trouble to cover our tracks, so to speak.” Emma then nonchalantly took a long sip of tea.
Aunt Frances clapped her hand to her heart. “The panther is here? At Hill House?”
“The poor animal is dead and buried,” Mother Garrett commented drily. “I don’t suppose the two of you managed to get everything done today without garnering any attention, did you?”
Emma shrugged. “The customers in the tavern were quite fascinated,” she admitted. “Obviously, since I had several tasks to tend to, I wasn’t with Mr. Breckenwith when he rode down Main Street with the panther’s body strapped to his horse, but I think it’s fairly safe to consider he drew most folks’ attention. He rode out of town to the south,” she added, “just in case anyone decided to follow him.”
Aunt Frances looked at Emma and frowned. “As much as I admire what you did, do you think it was wise to get involved like that? If the real owner of Hill House should arrive now and hear the gossip, he might not be inclined to let you buy Hill House again.”
“I agree,” Mother Garrett offered. “You did a good deed today, but the last thing you need attached to your name right now is gossip. And regardless of whether or not we keep your secret, whatever will you do if someone does dig up the grounds anyway because he suspects you deliberately tried to fool everyone and the owner arrives to find the grounds ruined?”
Emma smiled and got up from her chair. “I’ll simply have to be honest, explain what really happened, and pray the owner is a man of good character and conscience. Now, if you’ll both excuse me for a moment, I need to speak to the Burkes. Apparently, they have something very important they need to discuss with me.”
She left them at the kitchen table, speechless again. She was tempted to turn and suggest they have a chat later about setting up some guidelines to guarantee Emma some autonomy as well as privacy in her dealings with Mr. Breckenwith, but she decided to wait since Zachary would not be back for a good five to six weeks.
She did, however, turn around to share a bit of news with them. “
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I stopped at the General Store to see Mr. Atkins. He has some rather interesting news for you,” she teased before turning around again.
The two women were busy arguing about what Mr. Atkins’ news might be when she opened the door, stepped into the dining room, and nearly collided with Mr. Lewis.
He stumbled back so quickly, he barely managed to stay on his feet. His cheeks flushed dark red and his eyes widened with embarrassment. “I . . . I can explain,” he stuttered. “Please let me explain. I didn’t mean to be eavesdropping.”
25
MR. LEWIS!”
Instinctively, Emma reached around and closed the door behind her before Mother Garrett and Aunt Frances discovered there had been another set of ears listening to them. With her heart pounding from both shock and disbelief, Emma did not know if she or Mr. Lewis was more surprised to see the other. She was tempted to vent her outrage that he had become privy to her very private and personal conversation with Mother Garrett and Aunt Frances, but the poor man looked too pathetic and too upset with himself.
“I’m truly, truly sorry.” He dropped his gaze and hung his head, the image of pure remorse. “I can only imagine how angry you must be with me. I could hear you were all having a conversation and felt uncomfortable interrupting, but the longer I waited, the more awkward the situation became. If I waited far enough from the door to avoid eavesdropping, I was too far away to know when you’d finished your conversation.”
He sighed and wrung his hands together as he looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. “I only wanted to fetch some water for Mrs. Massey.”
“For Mrs. Massey? Perhaps you might be able to tell me why you would have been the one to see to her needs instead of her husband. He was with her in the west parlor. As I recall, you were across the hall,” she countered.
He blinked hard. “Mr. Massey was with the Ammond brothers helping Mr. Burke. After I escorted Miss Burke to the west parlor, Mrs. Massey thought I might help further by getting some water for Miss Burke.”
Emma shook her head several times to knock his words around in her mind, hoping they might make sense, but failed. “I’m afraid I don’t understand—”
“Mr. Burke took a fall at the bottom of the staircase. Miss Burke ran into the parlor to ask for our help.”
“Whatever were you thinking? Since this was an emergency, you should have interrupted and come directly to me to tell me what happened,” she charged. “Depending on how badly Mr. Burke is hurt, I may need to send for Dr. Jeffers.”
The man paled. “But Mr. Burke insisted there was no real emergency. He said he tripped trying to manage the first step and hurt his deformed foot. He was quite insistent the whole mishap could have been avoided had you been home earlier to make arrangements for him to turn your office into a sleeping room again so he could have all his accommodations on the first floor. He was even more adamant about not wanting anyone to send for the doctor, although reaching town to fetch him would decidedly be very difficult.”
Emma’s stomach clenched. “Mr. Burke told you he wants to move into my office?”
“He already sent Mr. Massey and the Ammonds upstairs to the garret to get the sleeping cot and mattress his sister used while she stayed there.” He paused and lowered his voice. “I’m afraid he had a bit of an argument earlier with his sister. He was very forceful and nasty to her after his mishap, and he absolutely refused to have her tend to him. She was quite distressed,” he added. “I hope Reverend Glenn was able to help her in that regard.”
Emma imagined all sorts of ways the middle-aged spinster might react to Reverend Glenn’s advice. She also found it rather preposterous that no one had the presence of mind to notify her immediately about what was happening, since she was the proprietress.
“And no one, not a single person, thought to send for me first before doing what Mr. Burke ordered them all to do?” she managed.
Mr. Lewis’s gaze grew tender. “Since you had such a pleasant afternoon, no one wanted to spoil it,” he offered meekly. “Not when you’ve been so kind and worked so hard for all of us. We thought you deserved not to have your day ruined by the Burkes.” Truly touched, but not placated, Emma drew in a long breath. “While I appreciate everyone’s concern, I’ve never, ever put my personal interests above the needs of my guests, even difficult ones.”
“We meant no harm.”
“I know, but right now I need to see how Mr. Burke is faring, as well as Miss Burke,” she said firmly. “Before I go, I must ask you in the strongest way possible not to repeat to anyone at all anything you overhead us talking about in the kitchen.”
His head bobbed up and down. “On my word. I’ll say nothing to anyone at all,” he promised, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “I would never forgive myself if I betrayed you and found the grounds here at Hill House dug up by opportunistic, sadistic profit-mongers or . . . or added to your worries about your current legal problem and your anxiety while waiting for the real owner to appear.”
Her heart dimmed with despair that he had overhead so much and in such detail. When she went to speak, he held up his hand. “Please believe me. I’ll tell no one. You have nothing to fear on my account.”
“I pray not,” she whispered.
“As a way of making amends, I want to stencil the hallway for you at no cost and with as little inconvenience as possible. I’ll work at night, if need be.”
“That’s not necessary,” she insisted, keeping her voice low. “As you well understand now, I don’t have the legal or moral right to authorize any further refinements to Hill House.”
He cocked his head and smiled. “No one, least of all the heir and rightful owner, would object to adding to the beauty of Hill House.”
“Perhaps not,” she argued, “but I will be the one held accountable.”
“By custom, I always sign my work. Should there be any ramifications, which I most sincerely assure you will not develop, given my years of experience in hundreds of homes, then my name, not yours, will be there to take the blame.”
When she remained silent, holding firm to her position, he relented. “I defer to your wishes,” he said reluctantly.
“I think that would be best,” she murmured, but before she could say more, Liesel scampered into the dining room with Ditty on her heels. “Excuse me, Mr. Lewis. Widow Garrett? We just finished mopping up the water in Mr. Burke’s room and were coming downstairs when we saw Mr. Massey and the Ammonds moving a sleeping cot downstairs. Is it true Mr. Burke is moving? Again?”
“Apparently,” Emma admitted. “For now, why don’t you both see if Mother Garrett needs help in the kitchen and see that Mr. Lewis gets a glass of water for Mrs. Massey. I want to see if Mr. Burke might want to reconsider,” she said and headed straight for the library to set Mr. Burke straight about who was in charge at Hill House.
With the heavy drapes closed to ward off the winter cold and the oil lamps burning low, the image of Lester Burke was shadowed and barely distinct as he sat in one of two leather chairs facing the fireplace.
Although he had called out after she had knocked and allowed her to enter, he made no effort to speak to her as she skirted the piles of fabric and two boxes containing the tools of his trade. She sat down in the chair next to his and noted that he had his injured foot covered and resting on a hassock someone had brought in from a front parlor.
With his face drenched with sweat that glistened in the firelight and his clothing uncommonly disheveled, he stared directly into the fire and acknowledged her presence with a grunt. “Your interest in my welfare comes too late.”
“I came as soon as I was told about your fall. Do you need Dr. Jeffers to come or will you be able to care for yourself?”
“If and when I need a doctor, I’ll send for one myself,” he spat. “Until then, I must insist on the service, as well as the privacy, you accord to your other guests.”
“I’ve been making every effort to do that.”
�
�If that were true, you would have been here earlier, and I would have been able to inform you that I cannot accommodate climbing the stairs several times a day to reach my bedroom. You would have immediately moved a sleeping cot and my belongings into the adjoining office. Instead, you were obviously more interested in pursuing your own affairs. My mishap on the stairs could have been and should have been avoided.”
“I had no idea you needed to change your accommodations or that you wanted to speak to me until I returned. I had an appointment today with my lawyer that unavoidably took longer than expected,” she explained, annoyed that she felt obliged to make excuses for herself to this rude and pompous man.
“Given what happened while you were gone, you could very well need another.”
“Another appointment or another lawyer?” she quipped.
“I care little about your choice of a lawyer.”
“Then I assume you’re suggesting I make an appointment with him,” she prompted. “Is that because you’re planning a lawsuit against me for not seeing that you didn’t trip and fall on the staircase?”
He chortled. “Lawsuits serve no greater purpose than to remind people, by lightening their purses, they should take their obligations seriously. I find my lawyer quite useful in that regard.”
“Would you be going into town to see your lawyer and instruct him to file suit, or would you simply have him call on you at Hill House again by way of my office door so no one would know what you were doing?”
He ignored her questions.
She pressed harder. “Or do you expect that I will be so intimidated by the threat of a lawsuit that I would offer you a settlement—just like you expect of the others you’ve sued as a result of the fire that damaged your cottage?”
When he still remained mute, she folded her hands in her lap and drew in a deep breath. Last fall, she had been frightened witless when Mr. Langhorne attempted to force her hand by threatening a lawsuit. She refused to make the same mistake with Mr. Burke. Even though a lawsuit now would make her very tenuous status as the owner of Hill House public knowledge, she was almost at the point where she did not care who found out. “Unfortunately for you, sir, I am neither intimidated nor frightened by your threat to sue me,” she said calmly.