Winterset

by Candace Camp

  “Have you seen him, talked to him?”

  “I have seen him. He seems much the same as ever. He did not mention anything about having had to do away with any enemies, but I’m not sure he would. He is so very secretive, even with Kit and me, or Arthur, his valet.”

  “What did his keeper say?”

  “He does not believe that Uncle could have done it. But he admits that he does not know where he was on those nights, as he was sleeping. And he is the most loyal of people—I mean, he has been willing to stay with Uncle for all these years, and it is a hard, thankless task. No one would do it just for the salary. He truly loves my uncle and has looked after him since he was a boy. For that reason, however, I don’t know how much I can rely on his opinion. He is not at all objective.”

  “What about tonight? Would he have hurt your brother? Does he—would he not recognize Sir Christopher?”

  “Surely he would not harm Kit! He is not mad in that way. He knows who we are. And he seems still to have some fondness for us, though it is largely overwhelmed by his fears and delusions. He has never accused one of us—Kit or me or Arthur—of trying to harm him. But he did—well, before he left Winterset, there was a certain turnover of staff because he would decide one of them was watching him or wanted to harm him or had stolen something. I cannot be sure but what he might come to decide that one of us is somehow trying to harm him. Oh, Reed, if it is he who is doing these things, then I am responsible for leaving him free!”

  Tears glittered in her eyes, and impulsively Reed put his arm around her, pulling her against him. He bent and pressed his lips to her hair. “Shh. Sweet girl, do not cry. I promise you, you are not at fault.”

  Anna leaned against him, letting herself depend on Reed for another brief moment. She could not continue to be weak, as she had been tonight, she knew. But just for a little while, surely it would not cause any harm….

  With a sigh, she stepped away from him, wiping the tears from her face. “I am sorry. I seem to be a veritable watering pot tonight.”

  “It has been a very disturbing evening,” Reed told her. “You have every right to be upset. I want to help you, Anna.”

  “I need your help,” she admitted. Her eyes were huge and luminous as she looked at him. “I am very grateful for it.”

  “I don’t want your gratitude,” he responded tightly. “I am not doing it for that. I want—I want you to be happy.”

  “Thank you.” She would not tell him that what he wanted was impossible. She had known real happiness once, when she had loved him, and now she was sworn to live without it.

  “We will work on this and find out who did it,” Reed went on firmly. “Whoever it is, we will put a stop to it.”

  Anna nodded and drew a steadying breath. “I should go see about Kit.”

  “Yes, of course. I will take my leave of you.”

  “Reed…” Anna reached out a hand, touching his sleeve. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” He took her hand and pressed a brief kiss on the back of it. It would have passed for a polite gesture, if not for the heat of his skin and the thrill that ran up Anna’s arm.

  She drew a shaky breath, unable to say anything.

  Reed turned and left, and Anna sank down onto a chair. It took her a moment to recover her composure. Then she rose and made her way up the stairs to Kit’s room.

  Thompkins was sitting there, and he jumped up at her entrance.

  “How is he?” Anna asked.

  “Unchanged, miss. I—he is breathing regularly. He seems to be asleep. I will sit up with him tonight,” the valet offered.

  “That is very good of you, Thompkins. But I think that I will sit up with him, at least for the first while. Perhaps you should go and get some sleep, and I will call you later if I need you.”

  “Very good, miss.”

  Thompkins left the room, and Anna sat down in the chair beside her brother’s bed. The oil lamp was turned down very low, so she could barely see Kit’s face, but he did seem, as Thompkins had said, to be sleeping peacefully.

  She sat for a few minutes, watching him, then rose and walked over to the window. Pushing aside the drape and leaning close to the window, she looked out at the night sky. The stars were shining, but she could not see the moon any longer, and she knew it must by now have climbed high in the sky.

  Anna looked down at the garden. Directly below were flowers and small shrubs, with paths winding through them and back into the larger trees that lay beyond. As she looked, she thought she saw a flicker of movement, a shifting of something in the trees. Pulling the sides of the drapes close to her face to cut out the dim light inside the room, she peered into the darkness.

  Yes, there, beneath the mulberry, a shadow moved, resolving itself into a dark shape. It was blocky and foreshortened from this angle, and it took a moment for Anna to realize that it was the figure of a man in a hat and cloak. As she watched, he turned his face toward the house.

  She could see no features, only darkness beneath the wide brim of the hat. The head turned, looking first one way and then the other, moving with an eerie slowness. The head stopped when it reached her window.

  A chill ran through her. He was waiting, watching them.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Anna drew in her breath sharply and stepped back from the window. For an instant her thoughts were scattered, and she could not move. Then she whirled and ran out of Kit’s room and down the stairs, calling for the butler. She ran to the side door and checked to make sure it was locked. She ducked into the next room, which was the study and almost directly across from where she had seen the figure in the trees. She did not light a lamp, but hurried over to the window and peeked through the drapes.

  But even though she was closer to the spot where the creature had stood, she could not see it clearly, for the shrubs in the garden blocked her view. She went to each window, making sure that it was securely locked. By the time she reached the hallway, the butler, Hargrove, had arrived, followed by one of the footmen. The butler had already retired, and his dignity was considerably diminished by the nightcap he wore on his head and the robe wrapped around his ample girth.

  “Miss? Is something amiss?”

  “I saw—I saw something outside,” Anna told him. It sounded weak and foolish now that she said it. “A person in the trees beyond the garden.”

  The footman gaped at her, and though Hargrove was better at hiding his astonishment, his voice could not completely conceal a note of disbelief as he said, “A person, miss?”

  “Yes,” Anna said firmly, and looked him in the eye. “My brother was attacked tonight. I do not know who I saw just now or why he is here, but I think that, considering the things that have been occurring lately, we cannot take anything lightly.”

  “No, miss, of course not.” The man hesitated. “Should I…send someone outside?”

  “No. Just make sure that all the doors and windows are locked. Don’t overlook any of them.”

  “Of course, miss. Right away.”

  Hargrove turned to the footman, snapping out orders, and then the two men bustled away. Anna hurried back up the stairs to her brother’s room. She crossed to the window and parted the drapes, looking out into the night. There was no sign of anyone beneath the trees.

  She could feel little relief. She turned away from the window and crossed over to her brother’s bed. Kit was still sleeping. She sat down in the chair, scooting it a little closer to the bed, so that she could lay her arm down and put her hand on Kit’s. Right then, she needed to have contact with him. She settled down to wait.

  * * *

  “Anna?” Kit’s groggy voice woke her, and Anna lifted her head, confused for a moment.

  “Oh.” Her brain cleared as she realized that it was morning, the sun creeping around the cracks in the draperies, and she had fallen asleep. In the next instant it sank in on her that Kit’s eyes were open and he was looking at her. “Kit, you’re awake!”

  She sprang to her
feet, ignoring the painful twinge in her neck and shoulder from falling asleep with her head on her arm on Kit’s bed.

  “’Course I am,” Kit replied a little thickly. “What is happening? Why are you here?”

  “Do you not remember?” Anna asked.

  “Remember what?” Kit frowned and raised one hand to his head. “I have the very devil of a headache. Was I—in the bag?”

  Anna had to smile a little. “No. At least, I don’t think so. Dr. Felton said that you had only a few drinks.”

  “The doctor?” He looked even more puzzled. “Was he here? Was I—was last night our card game?”

  “Yes. Do you not remember it?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, saying, “The last thing I remember is Mrs. Bennett and Felicity being here.”

  “Well, you received a bump on the head somehow,” Anna said. “We found you lying in the road, unconscious.”

  Kit stared at her. “You’re not serious.”

  “Unfortunately, I am.”

  “But how—I couldn’t have fallen off my horse,” he said in a mortified voice. “Not even if I was dead drunk.”

  “I don’t think you did. I think someone attacked you. I only wish you could remember.”

  “Attacked me!” Kit clearly found the idea ludicrous. Anna related everything she knew about the matter, but he could not bring himself to believe that anyone had tried to harm him.

  “I think the doctor’s right. I knocked my head on a low-hanging branch, that’s all.”

  “And what about the figure I saw bending over you?” Anna asked, folding her arms and raising one brow.

  “Well, you said it was quite dark….”

  “Not dark enough that I conjured up a person who was not there! And Cooper saw him, too.”

  Kit had no answer for that, but she could see in his face that neither could he really accept what she had said.

  “But who could—why would anyone do that?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I can’t understand this person’s mind. But, Kit, even if you cannot believe that someone harmed you, you must promise me that you will act as if you do,” Anna told him urgently. “You must take care. Guard yourself against danger.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Kit asked, looking appalled. “That I hide here in the house? I have work to do. There is the estate—’tis the busiest time of the year, apart from harvest.”

  “I know. And you have your pride, as well,” Anna added dryly. “I am not suggesting that you hide in the house—although I do hope that you will be sensible enough to rest today and take the powder Dr. Felton left for you. It will ease your headache.”

  “I will be more than happy to do that,” Kit told her fervently. “I feel as if someone has taken a hammer to my head.”

  Anna went to the table and unwrapped the paper the doctor had left, shaking a fourth of it into a glass and filling it with water. As she stirred, she turned back to her brother. “I trust that whoever it is will not try anything during the daylight hours. He seems to confine his activities to the nighttime. But, please, try to make sure that you are around other people as much as possible. And look out for danger. Take a groom with you.”

  “Take a groom with me?” Kit repeated, outraged. “Like a child?”

  “Like someone with sense,” Anna retorted, handing him the glass.

  Kit took a drink and made a face. “This is bitter.”

  “It’s medicine. It’s supposed to be bitter. Drink up.”

  Kit obediently drank the rest of it, and Anna took the opportunity to press her point. “At least take a groom with you if you go out at night. Personally, I think you should stay in in the evening, but I know you well enough to assume that you will make it a point of going out at night, just to prove that you are not afraid.” She directed a pointed look at him. “So if you do, take a groom with you. Do not go alone.”

  “And how long am I supposed to do this?” Kit asked, setting down the empty glass and adding sarcastically, “For the rest of my life?”

  “That won’t be very long if the killer gets hold of you again,” Anna replied acerbically.

  Kit groaned theatrically and flopped back against his pillows. “Anna…”

  “Reed and I are trying to find the killer. With luck we will be able to do so, and then you won’t have to keep looking over your shoulder.”

  “What?” Kit bounced back up from his pillows. “You are telling me to be careful, and all the while you are actually trying to track down the killer? Good Lord, Anna, are you mad?”

  “No, I’m not mad. I am sure he doesn’t know we are trying to find him. It isn’t as if we advertised that we were looking into the murders.”

  “Is that what you have been doing lately?” Kit went on. “Obviously I should have been spending less time on the estate and staying here to keep an eye on you.”

  Anna cast him an exasperated look. “Don’t try to turn this around on me. We are talking about your safety. I haven’t been doing this on my own. I have been with Reed the whole time.”

  Kit frowned. “Anna…how much time are you spending with him? Do you really think it is wise? You took me to task for seeing Rosemary too much, yet it seems to me that you are putting your heart into worse danger.”

  “It is in no danger,” Anna replied, somewhat untruthfully. “Reed knows that we can never be together. I told him why.”

  “You told him about Uncle Charles!” Kit exclaimed, then glanced toward the door to make sure it was closed and no one had overheard his hasty words.

  “Yes. He will tell no one,” Anna assured him. “I simply could not hide it any longer.

  Her brother looked at her searchingly. “Are you sure? A man in love—”

  “He does not love me,” Anna interrupted. “Not any longer. How could he, after my refusal three years ago? He has spent the last three years disliking me, I assure you. He was upset that I had not told him the truth, but he told me that he understood.”

  “Lord Moreland seems to me to be a man who does not give up easily.”

  “Of course not. But he sees the impossibility of tying his line to mine.” Anna’s throat closed a little, the pain of her lost love welling up in her, but she swallowed hard and went on. “How could he not? His father is a duke, after all.”

  “I suppose you are right,” Kit replied, but there was still skepticism on his face. “Still, it cannot be good, the two of you working closely together like this, seeing each other so often….”

  “Kit, don’t,” Anna said sharply. “Don’t tell me I should not see him. Reed and I can be friends, at least.”

  There was pity in her brother’s eyes as he looked at her. “Anna…I don’t want to see you hurt. That is all.”

  “I know.” She gave him a smile. “I won’t be. I will be quite careful with my heart—as you must promise me you will be with your life.”

  He smiled faintly. “All right. I promise.”

  He held out his hand, and she took it, squeezing it tightly.

  In truth, she was well aware that she was placing her heart in danger. But she could not bear to stay away from Reed. Even though she ached inside whenever she looked at him, wanting him, wanting a life with him, and knowing that could never happen, still she was willing to endure that pain. However much she hurt, however much she yearned, there was a greater pleasure in looking at him and talking to him, simply being with him. It was foolish, she suspected, but at the moment, she didn’t really want to examine her actions.

  Kit was feeling better by evening, and the next day he insisted on being up and about his work. Anna returned to her investigation. She and Reed rode to Eddlesburrow, where the records were kept for the local coroner’s inquests. But first they planned to stop at the house of the former Winterset maid whom Reed had located.

  Her name was Margaret Lackey, and she lived in a small stone cottage on the edge of the village. A series of stepping-stones led from the street to her front door, and
on either side of the path grew a neatly cultivated garden.

  As they approached the house, they saw a woman kneeling in front of a flower bed, busily tugging up every weed within reach. A wide-brimmed bonnet shielded her face from the sun and from their view, but she looked up as Reed and Anna dismounted and tied their horses. Black button eyes peered out of a wrinkled face, and she smiled as Anna and Reed started toward her.

  “Good day to you, madam,” Reed said, sweeping off his hat and bowing formally to her. “We are looking for a Miss Margaret Lackey.”

  “Then you have found her,” the woman replied cheerfully. “Except that the name is Margaret Parmer, for the past forty years.” She looked at Anna and Reed with curiosity.

  “Mrs. Parmer,” Reed amended, and introduced Anna and himself. “We would like to talk to you, if we may.”

  The woman whipped off her gloves and extended a hand to Reed. “If you’ll help me up, here, then we can go inside, where we can talk a little better.”

  Reed reached down, took her hand and helped her to her feet. She brushed the dirt from her skirt and led them inside her house, leaving her gardening tools where they lay.

  It was a pleasant house inside, small but well kept, and Margaret Parmer showed them into the parlor. She called to someone, and a moment later a middle-aged woman came into the room, wiping her hands on a towel.

  “Tea, Gert,” Mrs. Parmer said cheerfully. “For three, and some of those biscuits you made yesterday.” As Gert left, Mrs. Parmer turned to Reed and Anna, smiling. “Gert helps me out. I can’t keep a house up by myself any longer.” She wiggled her fingers; the knuckles were knobby and swollen.

  Mrs. Lackey took off her bonnet, revealing white hair, pulled back and knotted in a bun at the crown of her head. Stray hairs had come loose as she removed her hat, and she smoothed them back behind her ears as she sat down in a chair.

  The former maid was the opposite of the housekeeper whom they had interviewed the other day. Though her fingers were knotted and her movements careful, she was still spry and alert. Her dark eyes gleamed with intelligence and curiosity as she looked at them, waiting for the purpose of their call.