“Where is the tea?”
Her maid didn’t flinch at Belle’s harsh tone. “On the chaise.” She pointed to the lounge out on the private side terrace. “I brought fruit as well. Strawberries.”
Belle’s mouth watered at the word, but she wasn’t about to let Lily know she’d pleased her. She handed her the hat. “Hang this up.”
“Of course.” Lily’s smile never faltered. “Is there anything else I can do for you? I put your book out on the chaise as well in case you wanted to read before dinner.”
“You seem to have thought of everything. I thought you’d never been in service before.” Belle stepped to the French doors and opened them.
This side of the house was in shade in the later afternoon. The scent of roses and gardenias wafted up from the garden. A tray was on the table beside the chaise. She picked up her book and reclined on the comfortable seat. The iced tea was perfect with a sprig of mint in it.
Lily had followed her outside and stood watching with just a hint of concern. Finally. Belle wanted to find fault with what she’d done, but nothing was out of order.
“How is the tea?”
“Delicious. How did you know I liked mint in it?”
“Emily told me. I want to please you, Miss Belle.”
“You mean so you’ll get around me like you got around my aunt and uncle? How did you do it?”
Lily inhaled sharply. “I don’t know what you mean. I did only what I was told. Your aunt liked the way I styled her hair and noticed I knew a bit about fashion. I assure you I didn’t set out to become your maid.”
“I might still say no. I’m going to discuss it with my uncle.” Again, the girl was entirely too calm and self-assured. Belle took another sip of her excellent tea. “I didn’t realize we were hiring a personal friend of my cousin’s. That’s never a good idea. If I’d realized that, I probably wouldn’t have hired you.”
“I’ll make quite sure you don’t regret it. Is there anything else I can get for you? A throw perhaps? The wind is picking up.”
“It’s actually quite warm. I want you to run out to the millinery though. A hat I ordered is ready for pickup.” She gave Lily the name of the store. “Ask Mrs. O’Reilly how to get there.”
“Yes, miss.”
Her father had taught her it was important to always be the one with the upper hand. She dismissed Lily, and her uncle came in as the maid left. He was a fine-looking man, even if he was her uncle. The wings of gray at his temples only made him look distinguished. His morning coat fit impeccably, and his salt-and-pepper beard was neatly trimmed.
He pulled a chair closer to her chaise. “You’re looking quite lovely today, Belle.” His expression beamed approval. “Vesters was quite smitten.”
“Was he? I didn’t notice.” She took another sip of her tea. “Listen, Uncle Everett, about the maid . . .”
His jaw hardened. “I’ll brook no argument on it. A woman of your stature should have her own maid.”
“Oh please, Uncle. In this day and age? It’s 1904, not 1865. I could have a job, you know. Maybe I’ll work as a secretary or a telephone operator.”
“Things haven’t changed much for a woman of wealth like you, Belle. And yes, yes, I know your father lost his money, but you’ll be my heir. There will be no lack of property and wealth. I want you established with a good man who will know how to manage my many holdings.”
She wanted to ask him why Vesters then, but she wasn’t ready for that conversation yet.
SIX
It had taken Lily forever to find the right store. Riding the streetcar was a new experience, and she got off at the wrong stop twice. She’d barely gotten there before they closed. Hatbox in hand, she went to wait for the trolley, but she got turned around again and found herself wandering down an unfamiliar street. Darkness was falling fast, and a nearby moonlight tower flickered into operation. The dim light gave a bit of assurance to her steps.
The trolley came up ahead and she broke into a run. The hatbox thumped against her leg as she ran to attempt to catch it. Waving her hand, she tried to get it to slow, but it pulled away and lumbered down the street. She sighed and went to sit on the bench to wait for the next one.
A cat dashed across the street with a mouse squeaking in its mouth. The October night was pleasant, but the humidity intensified the onion smell from an upstairs apartment. Mrs. O’Reilly was going to be upset with Lily’s tardiness.
A scream came from somewhere behind her, and Lily leaped to her feet. Dim figures scuffled in the dark alley, and she realized a woman grappled with a man. Something shattered on the ground, and the sound broke her paralysis.
“You there, leave her alone!” She started for the alley without thinking.
The man broke away, and the woman crumpled to the ground as he ran off. Several unseen men shouted, and she heard running steps as someone chased after him. Lily ran down the alley to where the woman lay. She knelt by the woman’s side and helped her sit up. The dim light of the moonlight tower was enough to see the victim was blond and in her twenties.
Lily dabbed ineffectually at the blood on the woman’s forehead. “Are you all right? What’s your name?”
“Jane. Jane White,” the young woman muttered in a hoarse voice.
“What happened? Who was that man?”
“I don’t know.” Jane touched her forehead. “He cut me with a knife, but I shoved him and got out the back door of my house and ran away. I—I think he’s the man wh-who’s been attacking women.”
Jane’s clothes were rough homespun, and her speech held an accent Lily couldn’t place. An immigrant? “Attacking women?”
“Three others so far. I’m the first to survive.” Jane’s voice trembled. “What if he comes back?”
Lily patted Jane’s shoulder. “I’m sure the police will catch him.”
Jane clasped herself. “They haven’t yet. He’s wily.”
A police officer approached. A large man with red cheeks nodded to Lily. “You’re her sister?”
Lily shook her head. “Just a passerby.”
He frowned. “You two look alike. Best be on your guard, miss. Some monster has been attacking blond women.”
Lily gasped. “Thank you for the warning.” What kind of city had she found herself in?
“Ma’am, I need to take this young woman to the hospital.”
“Of course.” Lily stepped aside to allow the officer to help Jane to her feet. He guided her toward a police wagon parked at the end of the alley.
Once he had Jane stowed, he turned back toward Lily. “What’s your name, miss? We might need to talk to you about anything you saw.”
Lily told him her name and where she resided, then ran to catch the trolley. The last thing she needed was a policeman coming to question her.
Mrs. O’Reilly’s lips were flat as Lily flew in the door nearly an hour late. “I needed you to serve tonight, Lily. Dinner is over and they’re eating dessert. I’m quite disappointed in you.”
Lily took off her hat and put on her apron. The kitchen was warm and filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and goose. “I’m so sorry. I got lost on the trolley, and then I saw a young woman attacked. I helped her until the police arrived.”
Interest erased the frown on the housekeeper’s face. “Was she blond?”
“Why, yes.”
Mrs. O’Reilly tsked. “There have been three women murdered in the past two months, all servant girls. The city is afraid the Servant Girl Killer is back. He terrorized the city back in ’84 and ’85. I’ve had a terrible time keeping servants since the first girl died. Was this one attacked with a knife?”
“Yes.”
“Just like the last three. That poor girl.” Mrs. O’Reilly straightened. “Get the glasses for the men’s drinks and take them to the smoking room.”
Lily hurried off to obey, praying all the while she wouldn’t see Andy or, rather, Drew. Now that she’d seen how different he was, it was easier to think of him
as Drew. The Andy she’d known and loved was dead. She’d managed to avoid him for the past two days, though he was never far from her thoughts. Part of her wanted to hear his explanation, but the sane part knew she had to stay far away from the temptation he offered.
The dinner party had broken up by the time she carried the sherry into the room where the men waited. Drew tried to catch her eye, but she avoided him and slipped out of the room. She nearly ran into Mrs. O’Reilly.
“There’s a policeman here to see you, Lily.” Mrs. O’Reilly was frowning. “This is most unacceptable.”
“A policeman? Did he say what he wanted?”
“He did not. I’ve put him in the butler’s pantry to wait for you. I don’t want Mrs. Marshall to think you’ve done something wrong. At least not yet.”
Lily lifted her chin. “I’ve done nothing. It’s probably about the attack I witnessed.”
When Lily started in the wrong direction, Mrs. O’Reilly grabbed her arm. “This way.”
The housekeeper marched her down a maze of hallways to the back of the house. The butler’s pantry was a large space near the wine room. It held cabinets filled with china, cups, and crystal glasses. Fine silver filled felt-lined drawers that locked. The scent of cinnamon tea permeated the room.
The policeman turned when the women entered. He was about twenty-five, and he held his hat in his hands. “Ah, you must be Miss Donaldson.”
“Yes, sir. You wanted to see me?”
He nodded. “I was told you were on the scene when Miss White was attacked. I have a few questions for you.”
Mrs. O’Reilly visibly relaxed. She pressed Lily’s arm. “I’ll leave you to answer his questions. See me in the kitchen when you’re done.” Her voice was kind now.
Her attention on the policeman, Lily nodded. “I don’t know how I can help you. It was so dark I couldn’t make out much detail.”
“Can you describe what you saw?”
She told him about running to catch the trolley. “I heard a scream and saw two figures struggling. When I shouted, he ran off. I rushed to help.”
He looked up then, his brow lifted. “That’s rather brave. Weren’t you afraid he might harm you?”
“I didn’t think. When I got there, Miss White was on the ground and bleeding from a wound on her forehead. She said he attacked her with a knife.”
He scribbled on his pad of paper. “You didn’t see the man at all? Any impression of his size?”
She hesitated. “It was too dark to see. He was taller than Miss White, but that’s all I know.” She shuddered. “Such a gruesome way to attack a defenseless woman.”
“This monster has done the same and more to other women. Miss White is lucky to have survived.”
Lily clasped her hands together. “So she did survive? I’m so glad. I wasn’t sure what happened to her after she was taken to the hospital.”
He nodded. “Can you think of anything else you noticed? Anything at all?” He thrust a drawing into her hands. “This is the last victim. She was killed two days ago.”
Two days ago, the day Lily arrived on the train. She stared down into the face of the woman and shook her head. “I’ve never seen her.”
The policeman sighed and put the drawing back in his pocket. “This fellow has been targeting women who are of similar coloring and body type to you. I’d be careful if I were you, miss.” He doffed his hat. “Thank you for your assistance.” He headed for the door. “I’ll see myself out.”
She pushed away the uneasy feelings his words caused. No one knew her here. She was perfectly safe in this huge house.
The first five days had flown by. Lily’s back ached as she climbed the rear stairway to the attic storage area. The box in her arms was heavy, but she would be rid of it soon. Dust motes danced in a shaft of sunlight streaming through the dormer windows. The “eyes” on this side of the house were just as disconcerting as when she’d first stood in the yard and looked up at them.
An assortment of furniture and old rugs crowded the space under the eaves. She found an empty space to drop the box of old books, then sneezed as a cloud of dust assaulted her nose. When she shoved the box closer to the wall and stood, her head banged against a board. A hollow sound echoed back at her. A crack appeared in the wall.
Her heart sank. If she’d broken the plaster, she’d be in so much trouble. She knelt beside the wall and ran her fingers over the smooth surface. There was definitely a crack. She nearly groaned until she realized it was much too uniform.
She shoved the box out of the way, then peered more closely at the wall. The crack ran all the way around three sides. It was a door, not a crack at all. A hidden door, at that. The mechanism for opening it was a lever just under a trim board that ran around the top of the wall where the roof turned upward.
Her pulse skipped in her throat. Did she dare open it? Before she could talk herself out of it, she gripped the lever and pulled. The wall groaned and swung inward instead of outward. A yawning black hole appeared. The stale scent of mouse droppings and dust rushed to greet her, and she backed away.
“Love, what are you doing?”
Her hand on her throat, she whirled to see Emily with a box in her arms. “You frightened me half to death. Look what I found. It seems to be a hidden room.”
Emily crossed the attic floor and dropped her box onto the one Lily had brought up. “I’ve heard passageways wind their way all through this house. They were part of the original castle design, so Mr. Marshall had them reconstructed when he brought the stones over.”
Lily peered into the fathomless void. “I wish we had a light so we could see.”
“I can smell the mice, so you won’t get me in there.” Emily backed away. “I’m sure it’s full of nastiness. Mrs. O’Reilly is on a rampage to get the rest of the books moved up here. You’d better shut that and come along.”
Nearly a week had dragged by with no opportunity for Drew to catch Lily alone. Belle sought every chance to spend time with him, but Lily was as elusive as a bobcat. He caught her staring at him on occasion when she helped serve during dinner, but she quickly averted her gaze. Surely she would have a day off soon.
Thursday morning dawned with a clear blue sky that chased away the mid-autumn showers. The unusually cool temperatures were gone too, and he left his jacket behind in his room. His meeting with Vesters was at ten at the tea shop on Congress. Casual dress would be appropriate in the setting, and he wanted to make sure Vesters’s guard was down. The economy of the entire country was riding on his meeting today.
Standing to the side of a mass of rosebushes, he waited for the car to be brought around. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to see someone coming around the side of the house. Lily, dressed in a plain gray dress, strode through the garden toward the gate at the far side of the property. She hadn’t seen him yet, and he allowed himself to take in her graceful form and the pink in her cheeks.
If only things were different. His blood surged when he remembered holding her, loving her. But his obsession with Lily had killed his father. It had been his fault. He didn’t deserve her. And she didn’t deserve a husband who could die any moment.
The best he could hope for now was to convince her to guard his secret.
The driver, Henry, pulled the 1903 Pullman Touring automobile to a stop in front of him. The young man was one Drew had seen around on occasion, and his gaze was focused over Drew’s shoulder. He was watching Lily’s approach, and Drew narrowed his gaze at the man. The driver looked away, a flush staining his cheeks.
Lily turned at the rattle of the engine. Her eyes widened when she saw him. He beckoned her, and she glanced toward the house, then approached him. Was that fear in her eyes?
He opened the back door of the open-riding sedan. “Heading to town? I have an appointment at the tea shop in town, and you can come along.”
Her hands behind her back, she edged away. “I don’t think Miss Belle would approve. She saw
me speaking to you the other morning and questioned me.”
His pulse kicked in his chest. “You said nothing, of course?”
She shook her head. “But you know how I dislike falsehood, Andy.”
“Drew.”
“Mr. Hawkes.” She tipped up her chin.
Her spunk was one of the many things he’d always loved about her. Gripping her arm, he guided her toward the door. “Belle is out with her aunt, as I’m sure you know well.”
“Someone may still tell her.”
As she stepped into the automobile, it was all he could do to resist leaning in closer to sniff the faint scent of honeysuckle. He sprang up beside her, and the springs in the cushion groaned as he settled beside her. “Are you off work today?”
She shook her head. “Merely on an errand for Miss Belle. She wanted me to pick up some books for her.”
The gas engine revved, and the automobile lurched forward. He plucked her hand from her lap. “Are you ever getting a day off?”
She pulled her hand away and edged toward the other side of the seat. “I don’t know. Mrs. O’Reilly hasn’t brought it up. She might be waiting until Miss Belle makes up her mind on whether I’m to be her lady’s maid. Right now I’m doing a bit of everything.”
The market wasn’t far, and there would be no time to tell her all that needed to be said. “Then you must. You can’t work every day.”
She turned her head to look out at the passing scenery. “I’m grateful for the position. I can do nothing to jeopardize it.”
With all his being, he wanted to tell her he’d take care of her. What did he have to offer though? The very danger he’d left to save her from. “You risk nothing by bringing up the terms of your employment.”
“I’ll ask Mrs. O’Reilly about it.” She still wasn’t looking at him. Edwards and Church Booksellers was just ahead. “Come to tea with me. For half an hour.”
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