The Lightkeeper's Ball (30 page)
H
AD SHE HEARD
him? Harrison’s lungs burned as he labored up the slope with his arm around Lady Devonworth’s waist. Her ankle was still swollen, but she moved along better than he’d imagined she could. There was something in her manner that made him think she’d heard his declaration. He tried to tell himself he hadn’t meant it—that only the extreme stress of the moment had prompted those words.
The truth was that she had entangled herself in his heart in a mysterious way. But then he’d never been in love before, so it was all new and amazing. He thanked God that she was alive. But the attacker was bold. He’d come right into her own yard and taken her from the presence of several people.
They crested the hill and limped toward the house. Lights glared from the windows, and servants ran to and fro in the yard. Nealy was barking frantically as if to try to get someone to listen to him. An older woman stood on the back stoop wringing her hands and weeping. She glanced up and squinted in the dark toward Harrison. Lady Devonworth was sagging with fatigue, so he swept her into his arms and started toward the manor. His knee felt like a spike was rammed into it, but he ignored the pain.
The woman started down the steps toward them. “Is she alive?”
“She’s fine,” he called. Nealy ran to greet them, his tired tail wagging.
“She’s soaking wet. What happened?” She narrowed a glare at Harrison as if this were all his fault.
“He saved me,” Essie murmured, reaching toward her. “I nearly drowned.” Her hand drifted down to the dog. “Nealy too. Good dog.” Nealy wiggled all over with pleasure as her hand grazed his ears.
“And what were you doing out in the middle of the night?”
“She’ll explain later,” he said. “She needs dry clothes. And a doctor.” He brushed past the agitated older woman and onto the stoop. “Someone get the door and call the constable.”
The butler sprang to yank open the door. “Stay, Nealy,” Harrison told the dog on the porch. Goldia met him in the kitchen. “Show me to her room,” he told her.
She opened the door to the hall. “This way.”
The back stairs took them to the second floor. Her bedroom was four doors down. Goldia flung back the covers, and he deposited Lady Devonworth on the bed.
“Get her dry and warm,” he said. “I’ll get the doctor.”
He backed out of the room and rushed down the staircase. He met the older lady in the hall. The woman probably wouldn’t stoop so low as to use the servants’ stairs. The icy glare she sent his way pained him as much as his knee.
“Have you phoned for the doctor?” he asked.
“He’s on his way. And who are you?”
“I’m Harrison Bennett. Who are you?”
“Harrison.” Her smile was weak. “I didn’t recognize you, dear boy.” She drew herself up. “I’m Mrs. Stewart, owner of this house. I should like to know what you were doing w-with Lady Devonworth in the middle of the night.”
Eleanor’s mother. He studied her cold expression. No wonder she’d raised a daughter who had little use for faithfulness.
“Saving her from a murderer,” he said. When she gasped and put her hand to her mouth, he wished he hadn’t been so blunt. “Someone chloroformed her and threw her over the cliff.”
“Oh, that dear girl,” Mrs. Stewart said, tears springing to her eyes. “Is she going to be all right?”
“I think so. She’s cold and fatigued, but she was coherent and able to hobble up the hill.” Or at least partway up.
Her smile faded and she looked him over. “How did you happen by, Mr. Bennett?”
“I was out for a walk. I heard her call my name. I ran to the backyard, and the man nearly trampled me as he rushed away. I got to the cliff and saw her in the water. If you look at the back of the lot, you’ll see my boots and jacket.”
“Indeed, the servants discovered your garments,” she said. “A thank-you is in order.”
“It was only by God’s grace that I was able to get us both to shore. Your daughter wasn’t the first person to die on those rocks.”
She blanched and fell silent. His words were brutal, but he needed to be blunt to make her realize the gravity of the situation.
The doorbell rang, and the butler rushed to usher in the doctor. In the hubbub of the moment, he slipped out to the portico. Lady Devonworth wasn’t going to want to see him again tonight.
Harrison paused long enough to let Mrs. Lindrum know he would be in the carriage house until lunch. His knee still ached but he ignored it as he set out across the backyard to the building that housed his aeroplane. Nealy was on his heels. A voice hailed him and he turned to see Constable Brown waving to him. He paused under a live oak tree outside the carriage house.
“Saw you as I rounded the corner,” Brown said. “I wanted to get your version of last night’s events.” He patted the dog’s ears.
The man’s brown eyes were friendly enough, but Harrison thought he saw a glint of suspicion. “I was in the right place at the right time.” He explained what he’d heard and done.
Brown jotted in his notebook. “Can you describe this man who knocked you down?”
“It was too dark to see him. I smelled chloroform.”
“Lady Devonworth said he drugged her. She thinks she scratched him.”
“She didn’t mention the scratches to me. That’s surely a clue to look for. Did she say where the scratches were?”
“His arms. Which may not help us much unless the man rolls up his sleeves.” Brown raised a graying brow. “Might I see
your
arms, Harrison?”
Harrison stared at him, then took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal unmarked skin. “Satisfied?”
“I had to check. Can you explain why you were there?”
He studied Brown’s expression. The lawman had always been fair. “Do you remember when you first realized you loved your wife, Constable?”
The man grinned and took out a cigar. “Quite well, Harrison. I think I’m beginning to understand.”
“I went for a walk with no intention of going past the manor. It was most fortuitous that I did, but there is no good explanation for it other than that I subconsciously hoped to catch a glimpse of Lady Devonworth.”
“So the rumors of an impending announcement are true?”
“Yes,” Harrison said. There was no reason to mention that his only ammunition was that the engagement would save her reputation.
“Miss Eleanor drowned in circumstances very similar to what Lady Devonworth faced last night. Only she was not so fortunate.”
Harrison clenched his fists. “As I told you after the plane crash, I fear her death was no suicide. And someone fired on the lady and me in the clearing after the accident. After last night, Lady Devonworth’s fears that she was the intended target don’t seem so far-fetched.”
“I shall continue to discuss this matter with Lady Devonworth.”
He knew he should tell Brown about Eleanor’s affair with Fosberg, but it felt very unsportsmanlike. Still, the man could help them find Eleanor’s killer. He needed to know. “I would suggest you speak to Fosberg. He and Eleanor were
.
.
. close.”
“How close?”
“I’ll leave him to tell you. Suffice it to say that I broke off our engagement.”
“I will investigate the matter.” Brown turned back toward the house.
“One moment, Constable.” Brown turned around to face him. Harrison gestured to the carriage house. “I’m working on a new aeroplane, but I’m reluctant to try it out until I find out about the sabotage on my other machine. Have you uncovered anything about that?”
The constable shook his head. “A hole in a fuel line is too vague to trace. I questioned your neighbors and those who might have seen anything out at the airfield. I’ve turned up nothing.”
It was as Harrison suspected. His new machine would have to stay under guard constantly. At least until his enemy revealed himself. And he would eventually. If Harrison had arrived at Stewart Hall a little earlier last night, the man would have been exposed and caught. He thanked the constable and headed out to his machine.
When he reached the door, he dug out his key and started to fit it into the lock. It took a moment for him to realize the lock dangled open. Strange that Nealy hadn’t alerted him. Harrison clearly remembered locking the building two nights ago before going to bed. He nearly went to try to catch Brown, but if he left now, any intruder would escape. He pushed open the door and stepped into the space. Dust motes danced in a shaft of sunlight. The building was empty. His flying machine was gone.
Not a muscle could move. He stood gawking at the empty space. A thousand thoughts fought for supremacy, but uppermost was how the thief had managed to snatch the machine out from under Harrison’s nose.
Something shuffled behind him. With his fists at the ready, he whirled only to see his father step from the shadows. Harrison’s arms sagged to his side. “My flying machine. It’s gone.”
His father nodded. “I disposed of it. It was taking up too much of your time. I had it taken away yesterday afternoon.”
His father’s effrontery took his breath away. Harrison reminded himself that he was to honor his father even when the man did something this unfathomable. “I want it back. Where is it?”
His father advanced toward him. “Be reasonable, son. Let loose of this ridiculous dream. You have a bright future ahead of you in business. Don’t let this hobby distract you. My father was like you. I went hungry many nights because he cared more about playing pool than about feeding his children.”
Harrison had never heard the pleading note in his father’s voice. Nor had he shared this information about his growing-up years. It explained a lot—why his father was so driven to succeed, why recognition mattered to him.
He fought the pity that might have excused his father’s incredible behavior. “I’m not changing my mind. I’m done at Bennett and Bennett. Where is my machine?”
His father’s coaxing smile faded. “In the scrap heap.”
A crushing weight came down on Harrison’s chest. He nearly couldn’t breathe past the pressure. “I’ll just rebuild it.” He turned to the door before he could say something he might regret. John North had several carriage houses. He’d see if his friend would allow him the use of one.
T
HE SUNLIGHT WARMED
Olivia. She stretched, then groaned as every muscle protested. She’d lain abed all day yesterday, but she was not going to stay down today. Even her ankle felt better. She sat up and rang the bell for Goldia. Breakfast would fortify her for the day ahead.
Harrison had left the other night without a word. She tried not to let his departure bother her. He knew she was going to be all right, so why should she have expected him to dance attendance on her until dawn?
Katie poked her head through the doorway. “I heard the bell so I thought you must be awake. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Nearly human again.” She smiled to dispel the dark reminder of what had happened. “Has Harrison called this morning?”
Katie stepped into the room. “I haven’t heard the telephone ring.”
Her mother came through the door in time to hear Katie’s last words. “I met that young man, Olivia. He’s quite a handsome devil.” Her mother handed her the dressing gown from the foot of the bed. “We’ve received an invitation to a ball at Buckingham Palace. There will be no shortage of wealthy nobility looking for brides. Once your engagement to Harrison is at an end, we shall find you a husband who deserves to marry into the Stewart family.”