cannot leave, dammit.”
“I have no choice.”
“All right. Just what reason will you give him? Give everyone?”
“Oh, God, I don’t know. Let me think. There must be some good reason that calls
me back. I know?Peter. He’s now the Duke of Broughton. I will tell everyone that
he has written me and asks me to come assist him in redecorating the London
house. What do you think?”
“It sounds ridiculous.”
“Just because you didn’t think of it?”
“No, Andy. Think. Next week is Christmas. Families stay together for Christmas.
You are newly married to my uncle. No one would ever accept that you would leave
him during the Christmas holidays. Moreover, as the new countess, you will
attend services in the village, lend your presence to many parties given by the
local gentry. There are gifts to be bought and wrapped and given out. You will
be expected to have a Christmas ball for the servants and to present them money.
No, it has to be something else. Damnation, I can’t think of a blessed thing at
the moment, but I will.” He rubbed his chin, turned, and left me standing there.
I saw Boynton lolling next to one of the ancient sessile oak trees.
I went to visit Judith and Miss Gillbank, and learned to say good day in Turkish.
I spent an hour with Miss Crislock, who couldn’t stop talking about all the
guests. I swear that each and every one of them had flaws that she had to detail
at great length.
Finally, I picked up George and carried him outside. I waited patiently for him
to sniff at a good dozen trees, bushes, hedges, plants, before giving his custom
to a lone skinny maple tree. I hoped the tree survived. It was getting colder.
Someone broke into the letter box and stole the letter. I tried to remember who
all knew that I had received it. Brantley had brought it in. That meant any and
everybody in the house could have known. Shadows were lengthening over the
horizon. It was colder now than it had been just five minutes before.
I hurried to the stables to visit Small Bess, George at my side. He tried to
bite her hock. The other horses looked at George and raised a ruckus. I picked
him up, apologized to the animals, then walked slowly back to the house. It was
then that I happened to look up at the north tower, where Caroline had hurled
herself off that small balcony to the flagstone below. In that instant, I saw a
light move in the narrow-slitted windows. Then nothing. My eyes were deceiving
me. No, wait, there it was again, a brief light, like a single candle, with
someone holding it.
But why would anyone be in the north tower? That made no sense at all.
Then I realized that I very much wanted to know why someone was walking about up
there. I dashed back into the house, George barking madly, tucked under my right
arm. I ran past Brantley, who said nothing, just stared at me as I ran up the
stairs, holding my skirts up to my knees. I shut George into my bedchamber, lit
a candle, then headed for the north tower.
I felt the blood pounding through my body. I passed servants and footmen and
nodded pleasantly to them, not pausing to speak at all. I was filled with a
heady combination of utter fear and excitement. I
had my derringer. I wanted very much to see the person who was doing this to me.
It took me nearly fifteen minutes to make my way to the north tower. Only when I
pulled open the very old door at the base of the winding tower stairs, did I
pause. I pulled my derringer out of my pocket, lifted my candle high, and walked
up the uneven wooden steps.
No one was in the circular room at the top of the stairs. The air was still and
icy cold. There was no candle in evidence. Someone had brought the candle and
then taken it away.
There was still only the bed and the chest at the end of it. I carefully set the