Surprisingly, Rebecca exhibited more independence than I had seen before. She used her cane to help guide her down the center aisle and up the stage stairs. She went immediately to the white-and-gold grand piano on the left side of the stage and sat down. After placing her rag doll on the bench next to her, she pressed upon the keys, playing random notes. The music tinkled life into the silence. It was as if she knew exactly how many steps to take and in which direction to move. She was obviously very familiar with the room, and I must have shown my surprise.
“That is pretty,” I said to her. “Can you play the piano?”
“No.”
“Then you should learn,” I said.
Rebecca played the notes over again and smiled as if she liked the idea.
Prudence moved closer to me and whispered, “Cassie discovered Rebecca didn’t stutter when she sang, and so your sister brought her here, played for her and taught her songs. It was the biggest help in healing Rebecca. Mary used to bring Rebecca here too when she gave Bridget’s sister, Flora, singing lessons.”
At the mention of Flora’s name, goose bumps marched over my skin. I hadn’t examined my dream from last night too closely because I didn’t want to think about who the two women behind Mary were. Deep inside, I suspected the women were Lady Helen and Flora.
“I’ve never really thought about this place being like a cemetery, but I guess it is,” Prudence said quietly.
“Because of the musty air and the quietness?”
“It’s been rarely used since Sean’s mother died over thirty years ago. She entertained frequently, had performers from all over the world come, and Sir Warwick’s wife would perform every month. She had an angelic voice that Queen Victoria praised and often requested to hear.” Prudence lowered her voice. “It’s why Queen Victoria knighted Sir Warwick. The earl told me one…uh…evening.”
“Blimey, I didn’t know that,” Bridget said, moving closer. Her eyes were wide with wonder. “You mean if Flora is in London and if the Queen were to hear Flora sing and liked it, she could make Flora a real Lady?”
“I don’t know how it works, just that Sir Warwick was knighted,” Prudence said.
“I wasn’t even aware he’d ever been married,” I said. “Nobody’s mentioned her.”
“She died on the stage,” Prudence added.
I gasped, looking to where Rebecca experimented with the piano.
“Not here,” Prudence said waving her hand. “It was in London.”
“Good heavens!” Gemini cried out. She turned from a glass case, looking stunned.
“What is it?” I asked moving toward her.
“Forgive me for saying, but she must have read the bloody card,” Bridget said.
“It’s horrible.” Gemini shivered. “Are they all like that?”
“Yes.” Prudence and Bridget answered together.
“Like what?” I asked, moving over to the glass display.
“Read for yourself,” Gemini said, stepping aside. “You’ll fast lose your appetite for history and artifacts.”
In the glass case I found a beautiful gold flute decorated with fiery rubies, giving it a rich flair, much as I imagined the Crown Jewels would have. My gaze reluctantly moved to the accompanying card. The flute had belonged to Katherine Petrovanich, a Russian Princess who’d played her seductive music for one too many Russian Princess. She died when one of them poisoned her flute.
“Goodness!”
“Nothing good about any of the instruments in the cases,” Bridget said. “Every card tells what part the instruments played in the deaths of the women who used them.”
Having spent a great deal of my life immersed in artifacts, it wasn’t the first thing I’d seen that had been “instrumental” in someone’s death, but it was the first time I’d ever encountered a collection of such things that weren’t war weapons. This was very disturbing. “Why ever would someone do this?” How could anyone enjoy hearing music when surrounded by reminders of death? The very thought turned my stomach.
Lady Helen. Mary. Now this! There was entirely too much death about!
Prudence frowned. “It’s been this way since I came here to work eleven years ago. I assumed it was Sean’s mother. She and the earl were avid collectors of art and novelties from all over the world.”
Gemini wrapped her arms around herself. “Well, I can see why Cassie hasn’t developed an affinity for playing music here. It’s a wonder she hasn’t snitched and either hidden or burned the cards.”
“Why don’t we?” I whispered.
No one said anything for a full minute, then Bridget laughed. “If we did, I don’t think The Killdaren would demand that we all leave the castle.”
“And if we are able to get Cassie to come here and play then he’ll be sure to forgive us.”
Not another word was said, but twenty minutes later, every display cabinet now only held the beautiful musical instruments, and all references to death had been removed.
“Were should we put the cards?” Prudence asked as we’d gathered around the pile.
“I’ll not have the bloody things in my room,” said Bridget, stepping back. Prudence and Gemini moved back as well. “They’re almost like ghosts,” whispered Gemini.
I glared at the cards. “They’re just words. They can’t hurt you.” I scooped them all into my arms and went toward the door. “I’ll be right back. I’ll put them in my armoire.”
“Don’t go that way,” Prudence said. “There’re stairs from the stage that go directly to the quarters I share with Rebecca.”
“A secret passage?” asked Gemini.
Prudence shook her head. “No, not secret. Just never used now. My quarters were for honored guests who’d come to perform, and the stairs were for their convenience, enabling them to rest and have privacy until their performance. Come, I’ll show you.” She gathered Rebecca and her doll and led us up to the second floor. I shivered. Whether it was from stairs I didn’t know about or the death cards, I couldn’t say, but I felt decidedly cold.
Monday morning came faster than I imagined possible. We didn’t get the chance to take Cassie to the music room until Sunday evening when Sean either finally gave up trying to keep her in bed resting, or having all of us women constantly intruding into his quarters put him over the edge. He’d muttered something about having to go sleep with his telescope, whereupon Cassie sweetly told him that was unnecessary. All he had to do was let her rest somewhere else besides bed. That we’d all come at her explicit request told me she’d deliberately driven Sean to this point. Cassie was not one to sit idle and confided that she had to get out of the bed. It was the only way either she or Sean were going to survive until the next day. He wouldn’t even let her fluff a pillow by herself.
Bridget also informed us that Dr. Luden’s revelation in regards to the similarity between Lady Helen’s and Mary’s deaths didn’t change Constable Poole’s opinion about Mrs. Frye and Jamie Frye’s guilt. He knew all along Mrs. Frye hadn’t killed Mary by accident. That she confessed to it proved she’d helped her son Jamie hide the fact that he’d committed the crime, which made her just as culpable.
I rose early Monday morning and tried on three dresses before finding one alluring enough to assure I’d catch Alexander’s eye. Not that I’d allow him any further freedoms with my person after the way he’d left me last, but I did want him to desire me and regret he’d left me in such a state on purpose.
Much to my dismay, I discovered my wardrobe rather dismal when it came to flattering attire. I’d given such things little attention, for my main thoughts had always centered on history instead of fashion. The deep blue tea dress I’d settled on made my eyes intensely blue and flattered my figure well with an embroidered bodice and a graceful, flowing skirt.
I left my room with a knot of trepidation inside me that had nothing to do with anything that it should have, like what I’d read from Rebecca about Mary or its possible implications in Flora’s continued silence. Nor did it
have anything to do with the connection between Mary and Lady Helen’s deaths. It had everything to do with Lord Alexander and what had happened Friday night in Sean’s study.
I slipped on my lace gloves and ring as I hurried down the stairs, determined that I wouldn’t quit my post because of the incident. In fact, I was more of the mind to pour wine on him or something just as outrageous. What exactly did one say to a man who’d done what Alexander had done?
The next time you seduce me, I won’t stop, Andromeda. So make very sure you want everything, all the way. I can’t marry you either. I’ll leave no legitimate heirs. When I die, my title will go to Sean and his heirs. It is the least I can do for crippling him for life.
My attraction to Alexander when I’d first met him at the beginning of the summer had been instant and strong, a situation that had intensified ever since, and now loomed larger because my feelings for him had grown even greater.
I’d never truly been attracted to a man before. Not like this. A man’s smile might have been interesting but never had the power to capture my desire. A man’s gaze might have made me search his eyes a moment longer, looking to satisfy my curiosity about his spirit, but never had one set me afire as did Alexander’s. And I might have wondered on occasion what a kiss might be like, but I had never wanted, allowed or sought intimacy with a man. Now I couldn’t escape thoughts of us together as man and woman, and the things he alone seemed to have the power to make me feel. He was there with me, inside my mind.
I didn’t know what I would do about any of it yet, but I did know that I wasn’t going to hide myself away in antiquities, as was my custom. When I saw him next, I’d not only let him know that I was unhappy with the way he’d left things, but I would…
What? I didn’t know, but I had to figure it out before I reached Dragon’s Cove this morning. Whenever he was around, rational thought escaped me.
Much to my surprise, I found Cassie in the kitchens, dressed for an outing, having a discussion with Mrs. Murphy. Mrs. Murphy did not appear happy.
“Lass, I know ye’re fine, but you canna go to town today. The Killdaren will have all of our hides if he finds you gone. Give yourself a few more days rest before yer up and about.”
“The doctor says I’m fine. I feel fine. I’m only going to speak to Mrs. Frye, and I’ll be back before Sean wakes up. I promise there is no need to worry.”
“But The Killdaren doesn’t know that.”
“Yes, he does. The doctor has told him and I have told him.”
“He may know it in his head, but he doesn’t in his heart. He’s afraid of losing you, lass. Ye’re gonna have to take it easy with him for a bit.”
“This is too important. I won’t be long,” Cassie said, heading for the door.
“Wait,” I said, moving from the stair landing to make my presence known. “Mrs. Murphy is right, Cassie. You don’t need to be running back and forth between here and town.”
Cassie turned and rolled her eyes. “Not you, too, Andrie. You’re supposed to be on my side. Friday night upset me, resulting in a stomach cramp. Now suddenly everyone expects me to stop living life. I must hurry so I can return before Sean wakes.”
“I’ll go with you.” Crossing the kitchens, I joined her near the door.
“Aren’t you on your way to Dragon’s Cove?”
“Yes, but I’m early and it won’t matter if I’m a little late. So don’t argue.”
“Fine.” Cassie tossed her hands up. “But I can’t be coddled forever.”
“No, but you can learn to do two things.” I firmed my lips and tried to give her a stern look. “You can carry a lighter load and do more activities that relax you and make you happy inside. Things you do for yourself because you like them, like long warm baths and reading books or walking in the garden. Not the dozens of things you do for others. You haven’t even sat down to write since you resigned from ‘Cassiopeia’s Corner’.”
Cassie moved ahead as if she didn’t hear me. “If you’re joining me, then let’s go.” After we descended the stairs and edged the elegant gardens, still colorful this time of year with huge, blue blossoms and bright yellow bells that shouted for a soul to stop and look, Cassie finally replied, “Are you and Bridget in league with each other? She said the same thing to me yesterday.”
“Well,” I hedged, “we have decided that you never take time for yourself. Just like now. Instead of resting you’re off to town when you can easily send a message to Mrs. Frye and have a servant deliver whatever it is you’re carrying in your basket.”
“No,” she said. “I can’t do that. Because though I will see Mrs. Frye too, who I really need to see is Constable Poole and Jamie.”
We’d reached the stables and my steps slowed. “I don’t think seeing Jamie such a good idea, Cassie. Good Lord. The man tried to hurt you twice. He kidnapped you!”
“Ever since Dr. Luden told us about what had been done to Mary, and that the same thing had been done to Lady Helen, I’ve had an increasingly harder time believing that Jamie is guilty of what everyone is now supposing he did.”
“And why is that?” Stuart Frye asked, exiting the open stable door. His stance was that of an angry man, confrontational and challenging, one that made him just as imposing and as dangerous as his half bothers Alexander and Sean. A carriage had already been made ready and stood waiting for us.
I jumped, startled by his appearance. Cassie only nodded, as if she’d expected him and didn’t see anything threatening about him at all. She stared hard at Stuart. “Do you think your brother is guilty of killing Lady Helen and Mary?” she asked instead of answering Stuart’s question.
“No,” he said roughly. “Why don’t you?”
“Probably for the same reason you don’t,” Cassie said. “And Constable Poole is going to hear me say it first. Then I’m going to make sure everyone in the village hears me as well.”
“It’s not going to change anything,” Stuart replied. “Even if Jamie were to be freed, people would be afraid of him and would seek to destroy him.”
Cassie straightened her shoulders. “Then we will do what has to be done to protect him and your mother. Give them a new life in a different place if necessary.”
“What do you mean?”
Cassie smiled. “Haven’t you heard about Stuart Frye and his family?”
Stuart frowned, and I looked at my sister twice, just to make sure she knew what she had just said.
Cassie cocked her head as if Stuart was daft. “Andrie, I know you’ve heard of Stuart Frye and his family. Why, the man is renowned for breeding and training the best horses available. Everyone in the world comes to Frye. I can’t remember where the affluent man lives, America, Ireland or wherever he decided to make his start. But his hard work, together with the land and horses he inherited from his father, has made him famous.”
“Oh.” I nodded, my lips twitching with a smile. “Those Fryes. Yes, I do recall them now.”
“I’ve heard from a good source that Mrs. Frye has the most amazing blue eyes and fiery hair that just might be as warm as her heart. She holds classes every week for those too unfortunate to afford an education.”
Stuart blinked and stared, his dark eyes bleak. “Fiction belongs in novels, Mrs. Killdaren.”
“Then I’ll have to write one.” Cassie squared her shoulders. “A story that reveals that a man without a dream is no man at all. You strike me as quite a man, Stuart Frye. And did you forget? Family calls me Cassie.”
Stuart didn’t say a word, he just opened the carriage door and waited for us, but I could tell without touching him that Cassie had him thinking.
Cassie put her hand on his arm as she passed him. “I will make a difference. The Killdarens owe it to you, but more importantly, you deserve it. You have to help too.”
When Stuart still didn’t answer, she told him. “You have to believe, Stuart Frye. Few men are strong enough to believe. Are you?”
Joining me on the carriage seat, Cassie sat
back with a sigh. “This might not be too difficult of a position after all.”
“What?”
“Being the unemployed wife of a wealthy man. Since I’m unable to hold a worthy position and must focus my abilities to help others, I’m rethinking how I can still be a productive member of society. Do you know how many rights I can wrong, Andrie? It boggles my mind.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to give my brother-in-law a wee warning. Either way, I thought it fortunate that Sean Killdaren was a very wealthy man. “Are you going to write that story you just spoke of, Cassie?”
She sighed. “I don’t know, Andrie. Where would I find the time?”
“You need to find it, because a woman without a dream is no woman at all as well. Don’t let life take away your dreams.”
Cassie frowned almost all the way into town, but I could tell that dishing her own advice back to her had made an impact.
A short while later, we entered Mrs. Frye’s stone cell, and I had to brace myself. Not because of her living conditions, which were meager at best, but because of her antipathy toward Cassie. Mrs. Frye was a sour shell of a woman, with haunted dark eyes as sharp as her tongue.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Cassie set down the basket. “I’ve brought you some things.”
Mrs. Frye turned her back. “Take them and leave. They’re not wanted. This is all your fault. If you hadn’t come here then none of this would have happened.”
“It would have. Maybe not this summer, but it would have. Murder has a way of rising from the grave. You’re unfortunately just going to have to live with the things in the basket and face a few truths as well,” Cassie said sternly. “I understand why you are bitter and see many reasons in your life for you to feel justified in being the harsh, unforgiving, and resentful woman you are. But you’ve brought most of it on yourself. A woman must be loving and giving before she can be loved and given to, and until you realize that you’re never going to be free of the prison you’ve built around your heart and your soul. There are second chances in life. When they comes, don’t waste them.” Cassie turned and left the woman alone in the chilly stone room. I followed, amazed by my sister’s crusading abilities, sure that if she were given the world to fix, she’d have it spinning right in a day.
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