by Paula Paul
“I…I don’t know. I was afraid I would be cut, I…no, I wasn’t cut, but I think someone hit me, and then…There was someone, someone I think I know, but…No, I can’t remember, except she was helping me, giving me something to drink. Medicine, I think.”
“She? ’Twas a woman wot hit ye?” Rob asked.
“No, not a woman. ’Twas a man. He wore trousers, but a woman…I think I saw a woman. At first I thought ’twas Miss Alex, but…” Nancy rubbed her forehead, where it seemed a heavy hammer was pounding away. She turned toward the cupboard, but Rob sprang from the chair where he’d been sitting next to the table and led her to another chair. Nancy saw him signal Artie with a movement of his head toward the cupboard. Artie jumped up as quickly as Rob had. He had to stand on a sideboard to reach the bowls, but he soon had three of them placed on the table, along with spoons. Rob poured porridge into each of the bowls.
“So someone was after ye, just like they was after the doc,” Rob said between mouthfuls of the porridge. “A man.”
“Appears that way,” Nancy said, “but I know not why.”
“Maybe ’twas the ghost man,” Artie said. “The one what we seen on the ’orse, remember?”
“No, I don’t think they were the same.” Nancy reached across the table and dabbed at a spot of porridge on Artie’s mouth with a napkin. “But ’twas a man who…”
“You said first ’twas a woman,” Rob said.
“No, I told you ’twas a man who attacked, and a woman—I think ’twas a woman—who tried to help me.”
“Yer not making sense, Nance,” Rob said.
Nancy said nothing. She knew she must sound irrational, and indeed she was confused about everything. It was frustrating not to be able to remember, but it would only upset her more to dwell on it. She had to get her mind on other things.
“I need to see Miss Alex,” she said. “I need to make certain she’s all right, that her leg was properly set.”
“I tol’ ye she’s at Montmarsh,” Rob said.
“So you did.” Nancy stood and picked up the empty porridge bowls and took them to the washbasin. “I shall be leaving as soon as these bowls and the pot are washed.”
“Leave?” Artie sounded alarmed. “Where ye goin’?”
“To Montmarsh, of course.”
“How ye think ye’s goin’ to get to Montmarsh?” Rob asked.
“I shall walk.”
“Ye can’t walk,” Artie said. “ ’Tis too far.”
“Of course I can walk, and ’tis not too far. How do you think Mrs. Pickwick gets here when she comes to visit with me?”
“Well, she…” Rob was at a loss for words.
“ ’Course Pickwick walks,” Artie said. “She’s twice yer size, Nance. Got all that meat on ’er, but ye’s a skinny little gal. It’ll wear ye down, Nance.”
Nancy laughed. She was surprised how that little bit of laughter seemed to clear her head. “If I’m not back by nightfall, you’ll have to come for me,” she said.
“Nightfall! Ye’ll be gone that long?” Rob asked, clearly disturbed.
“Of course not. I expect to be back within two or three hours, assuming everything is going well with the doctor. I was being facetious about staying until nightfall.”
“Ye was bein’ wot?”
“Never mind, Artie. I need you and Rob to stay here and watch after things. I don’t expect many patients will show up, if any at all.”
“Ye sure yer strong enough?” Rob asked. “Ye ain’t been well, ye knows. And ye ain’t right in the head.”
“I shall be quite all right,” Nancy said. “I’ll take Zack with me. He’ll come back and alert you if anything goes wrong. He’ll be as happy to see Miss Alex as I shall be.”
Within a few minutes she was on her way across the meadow toward the mansion. Zack trotted along beside her, and she looked back once to see the boys standing together and watching her as if she were going off to war.
The trek through the meadow provided a shortcut to Montmarsh. Most people, including Alexandra, used the road because it was easier for horses to walk, and the meadow would be impossible for a carriage.
She arrived at the great house in no more than half an hour, but instead of going to the front entrance, she walked around to the door at the back that was used by servants and was closer to the kitchen. Mrs. Pickwick responded to her knock. Her eyes widened when she saw who stood before her.
“Nancy!”
For a moment Nancy thought Mrs. Pickwick was going to give her a hug, although a physical display of affection was not common between them.
“May I come in, Pickwick?”
“Of course, of course.” Mrs. Pickwick opened the door wider. “You’re a sight to see, you are! Where have you been? What happened to you? We’ve all been so worried. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m all right, and I don’t know where I’ve been, exactly, or what happened to me.”
“Oh, Lor’, Nancy, that’s the way my nephew used to talk when he’d been out drinkin’ all night. You haven’t taken to—”
“You know me better than that, Pickwick.”
Pickwick ducked her head. “ ’Course I do, Nancy.”
“I was attacked, that’s all I know. Perhaps by the same person who attacked Miss Alex. I woke up at home in the surgery, not remembering anything.”
“Oh, my! Oh, my!” Mrs. Pickwick bustled around the table, pulling out a chair. “Here, sit down. You must tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Nancy said. “I told you I don’t remember anything. Besides, I haven’t the time. I’ve come to see Miss Alex.”
“She’s resting.”
“I should hope so.”
Mrs. Pickwick hesitated, obviously disappointed that she wasn’t going to hear any more of Nancy’s story. “I’ll take you to Stokes,” she said finally. “I’ll tell him who you are, and he’ll take you to Dr. Gladstone.”
“Stokes?”
“Lord Dunsford’s new butler. Not too bright, if you ask me, but at least he’s not as stuffy as that one his mother always brings with her when she visits.”
Nancy was surprised that the earl had hired a full-time butler. He never kept more than one or two servants at Montmarsh, including Mrs. Pickwick. He’d always claimed there was no point in it, since he had no plans to live there full-time. There were rumors that he’d changed his mind, mostly because Miss Alex lived in Newton-upon-Sea. Nancy wouldn’t mention that now, though. She had no time for gossip with Pickwick.
Stokes was a tall man, hefty, but not fat, and well into his fifties, Nancy thought, since he was graying at the temples. He listened to Mrs. Pickwick’s explanation of who Nancy was and of her relationship to Dr. Gladstone.
“Then you are the missing woman,” Stokes said. “The one about whom everyone has been so concerned.”
“As you can see, I’m no longer missing, Mr. Stokes, and there’s no longer any reason to be concerned.”
The corners of Mr. Stokes’s mouth twitched slightly, as if he’d found what she said amusing, but he quickly gained control. “I shall see if the doctor is awake and if she’s well enough to see you.”
Nancy found herself wanting to tell Stokes that Miss Alex would indeed want to see her, and she would want to be awakened even if she was sleeping. She said nothing, however. She gave the butler a little nod and waited while he walked up the grand staircase.
Pickwick sniffed as he walked away. “A stickler for proper manners, that one is. Would never dream of allowing you just to go up to see her.”
“I understand. ’Tis the home of an earl. Must follow protocol, mustn’t we?”
“ ’Tis the way ’tis, I’m afraid.” Pickwick hesitated for a moment before she spoke again. “Nancy, love, what happened to you whilst you was gone? You can tell me the truth, you know.”
“I told you, Pickwick, I don’t remember what happened. Just that I was attacked. Or hit. By a horse, perhaps. I was taken away somewh
ere then brought back home.”
“Attacked? Oh, dear. What exactly do you mean? You wasn’t molested, was you?”
“Molested?”
“You know, was your honor soiled?”
Nancy gave her a look of surprise and shock. “Good lord, Pickwick! No, I was hit by something, I think, and given a potion of some kind. Something to make me sleep.”
“I see,” Pickwick said, her interest growing. “So the truth is you don’t know what happened.”
“No, I don’t know what happened. I told you that.”
“So something like that could have happened to you, and you wouldn’t remember.”
“Something like what?” Nancy asked, although she knew perfectly well where Pickwick was trying to lead her.
“You know what I mean,” Pickwick said.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” Nancy said, feigning innocence.
Pickwick seemed at a loss as to how to proceed. Nancy was silent also, mischievously waiting to hear what words Pickwick would come up with next. However, Pickwick was saved by the appearance of Stokes, making his way down the stairs.
“Dr. Gladstone is most anxious to see you, miss,” he said, when he was standing in front of Nancy.
“Thank you, Mr. Stokes,” she said. Before she started up the stairs, she turned around to speak to Pickwick. “Thank you for your help, Pickwick. We’ll talk soon. Perhaps I shall remember more by then.”
Pickwick’s face brightened, and she gave Nancy an enthusiastic smile.
Stokes followed Nancy upstairs and led her to a room. He opened the door and stepped in ahead of her. “Your maid is here, Miss Gladstone,” he said, then stood back to allow Nancy to enter.
She was surprised to see Miss Alex sitting upright, both legs dangling from the edge of the bed.
“Nancy, oh, Nancy, thank God you’re safe,” Alexandra said, extending both her hands toward her.
Nancy took her hands, and Alexandra brought them to her chest in an endearing gesture. “You cannot know how worried I’ve been about you. You must tell me everything.”
“Oh, but you must first tell me everything. A broken leg! Why are you sitting like that? Don’t you know you should have that leg elevated?”
“Certainly,” Alexandra said as she struggled to stand. “I’ve kept it elevated, but I also know that I must try standing a little at a time.”
Nancy placed both her hands on Alexandra’s arms and tried to force her to sit. “But you always caution your patients to stay in bed until—”
“Yes, I know, but I’ve changed my mind. I think that perhaps if a patient gets out of bed and moves about sooner, with no pressure on the broken leg, of course, it brings about quicker healing.”
“Perhaps?” Nancy sounded incredulous. “If you’re not certain, then you must stay in bed. You must not take chances.”
“It’s a theory only, but what better opportunity to test it without doing harm to someone else?”
“You are incorrigible, Miss Alex. Isn’t that the word your father used? Well, he was right, now, wasn’t he? If he were alive—”
“Don’t tell me what he would do if he were alive, Nancy. You know I get enough of that from all his former patients.”
“Of course. I apologize. It’s just that I am concerned,” Nancy said.
Alexandra brought her legs up to rest on the bed. “Yes, and I am concerned about you. Now, tell me everything that happened. You first, and then I shall tell my story.”
Nancy arranged pillows under Alexandra’s leg to elevate it as she told her everything she’d told the boys, including about her lapse in memory and confusion when she awakened in the surgery.
Alexandra was alarmed. “You must have been given a drug.”
“My conclusion, too,” Nancy said. “But why?”
“I don’t know, nor do I know why I was pursued and attacked on my way to visit Mr. Wolcott.”
“You set your own leg?” Nancy asked. She was both amazed and somewhat alarmed. “Then you were taken to a doctor in Foulness? Some say he’s not a proper doctor. What if he—”
“Feel free to examine my leg now,” Alexandra said.
“I most certainly will,” Nancy assured her, and pushed the coverlet and nightgown away from Alexandra’s injured leg. She felt along the length of the bone, examined the dressing, and pushed at the swelling in Alexandra’s foot.
“Well?” Alexandra asked.
“Seems no harm’s been done,” Nancy said, although she was a bit loath to admit it. She didn’t like the idea of a doctor she didn’t know being in charge of such a procedure.
“No harm at all,” Alexandra said. “Lord Dunsford inquired about Dr. Abercrombie’s credentials before he would allow him to proceed.”
“Speaking of Lord Dunsford,” Nancy said, “where is he?”
“He’s out searching for you,” Alexandra said. “As soon as I heard you were here, I instructed Stokes to get word to Nicholas and the constable that you’re safe.”
“I’m afraid I’ve caused a bit of trouble,” Nancy said.
“We both have,” Alexandra said. “But much more troublesome is not knowing whoever it was who attacked us, or whoever killed three people in Newton. Perhaps George Payne as well.”
“George Payne?” Nancy said. “I thought he killed himself.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Alexandra said.
“But I thought he was the suspect in the other murders,” Nancy said.
“He may have had a motive to kill those men, but I’m not certain he killed himself.”
“Who would have…” Nancy paused. “Judith? Do you think she could have killed her father?”
“One could say she had a motive.”
Nancy shook her head and was about to protest that Judith Payne was most unlikely to murder anyone, and certainly not her father. Before she could speak the words, a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Who is it?” Alexandra asked.
Stokes’s voice answered. “Lord Dunsworth, miss. And Constable Snow.”
“Come in, please.” Alexandra quickly rearranged the sheet to cover her legs.
“So good to see you, Nancy!” the earl said, going to Nancy. He gave her a quick embrace, leaving Nancy stunned. “Are you quite all right?”
“I was attacked, but I wasn’t seriously hurt,” Nancy said, “and I’m afraid I’ve been such a nuisance to everyone.”
“Certainly not,” Lord Dunsford responded. “The real trouble lies with someone else, I’m afraid.”
“Oh?” Alexandra said before Nancy could respond.
“I’m afraid there’s been yet another murder,” Lord Dunsford said.
Chapter 19
Nicholas’s face paled as he spoke those words. Constable Snow, as usual, showed no emotion at all.
“Oh, no!” Alexandra said.
Nancy spoke at almost the same time. “When will this stop?”
“The victim was Dr. Abercrombie from Foulness,” Constable Snow said. “He was killed here in Newton-upon-Sea.”
“Why was he here?” Alexandra asked.
“He came here looking for me,” Nicholas said. “Naturally, that makes me feel somewhat responsible for…for what happened to him.”
“You are in no way responsible.” Constable Snow’s taciturn manner gave no suggestion that he was attempting to comfort Nicholas. Rather, he was simply stating a fact.
“Why would Dr. Abercrombie be looking for you?” Alexandra asked, sitting upright again.
“It seems he thought I kidnapped you and spirited you out of the hospital.”
“Then I must take some responsibility,” said Alexandra. “I’m the one who insisted we leave his surgery against his advice. You tried to stop me, Nic—Lord Dunsford, remember?”
“The responsible party is the one who killed him,” Snow plainly stated. “It is completely irrelevant why you left his surgery.”
“How did you learn all of this? About Lord Dunsford being under suspicion of
kidnapping, I mean,” Nancy asked. Snow gave her a scathing look. He did not approve of servants joining in the conversation.
Snow’s posture stiffened even more. “We’ve had a visit from the constable in Foulness, but that is of no importance to the matter at hand.”
“There’s more,” Nicholas said. “The constable from Foulness is also in Newton to investigate the death of George Payne. Apparently, Dr. Abercrombie finally convinced him that Mr. Payne’s death was not a suicide, and is somehow connected to the murders here in Newton-upon-Sea.”
Snow glared at Nicholas. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but that is police business, and this is no place to discuss the matter.”
Nicholas was unperturbed by the scolding and did nothing more than glance at Alexandra with raised eyebrows, as if he were dismissing Snow’s protest. “In that case, let us hope the business is taken care of quickly. Let us also hope there’ll be no more deaths.”
Snow showed no signs of having been chastened, except for a slight drop of his chin. “Of course,” he said.
“Forgive me,” Nicholas said, turning back to Alexandra. “In all the excitement, I’ve failed to ask you how you’re feeling.”
“Quite well,” Alexandra said. “I’m most anxious to return home. I’m quite certain I would heal even quicker there.”
Nicholas frowned. “I can assure you that you would receive the best of care here at Montmarsh, and Nancy could stay on as—”
“I appreciate your generosity, my lord, but one always does better in one’s own home.”
“I believe she’s right, my lord,” Nancy said. “The doctor and I have both observed that patients fare better at home than they do in unfamiliar circumstances.” Her remark elicited another disapproving glare from the constable.
Nicholas did no more than breathe a sigh of resignation. “Very well. Certainly by now I know better than to argue with the two of you against me. I’ll have the carriage readied for you, and Stokes can help me get you down the stairs. I suppose we could fashion a gurney similar to the one we used to get you up here.”
“I should like to walk at least to the stairway, not entirely on my own, of course, but if I could have the support of someone—”