Winterset (16 page)

“Well, I shall write you, and you must promise that you will write back to me.”

“I will, yes.”

“And I will convince you to visit. You’ll see.”

Rosemary and Kit strolled back into the room soon after that. Their faces were flushed, and Anna thought that Miss Farrington looked a little teary-eyed. Kyria rose, and they took their leave. Kit and Anna walked with them out to their carriage.

“Please say our goodbyes to Lord Moreland, as well,” Anna said, carefully keeping her voice neutral.

Kyria looked at her in surprise. “Reed? Oh, but Reed is not going with us to London. I am sorry, I did not realize you thought that he was leaving, as well. No, it is just Rafe and I and our baby and Miss Farrington and the twins.”

“Oh.” Anna’s heart was suddenly much lighter. She told herself that the news should not make her happy; she should not be looking forward to seeing Reed again. “He—he really should leave. You must persuade him to go with you for his own safety.”

Kyria let out a lilting laugh. “Oh, no! If I were to tell Reed that, it would only make him even more determined to stay.”

Kit handed the women up into the carriage, bowing toward them, his eyes going to Rosemary. She lifted her hand to him, and the carriage pulled away. Anna glanced over at her brother. He was watching the carriage as it receded down the drive.

“I am sorry, Kit,” Anna said, slipping her hand into his.

He did not look at her as he said, “It is better that she leave now. It will make it easier in the end.”

“Yes, but I know that it is hard right now.”

He squeezed her hand. “We have not fallen in love. But I did like her…very much. She wanted me to come to London to visit. She said that Kyria was inviting us to stay with them at Broughton House.”

“She did.”

“I told her it was impossible. It hurt her. I could see it in her eyes, though she tried to hide it. And that makes me feel worse than ever.”

“Oh, Kit…”

He mustered up a smile for her. “What a sorry pair we are, eh? Ah, well, I do not suppose I could ask for a better sister to grow old with here. Can you not see us when we are Nick Perkins’ age? Playing cribbage in front of the fire every evening?” He turned back into the house, standing aside for her to walk through the door before him and saying lightly, “It’s the very devil behaving responsibly, isn’t it?”

Anna was surprised the following morning when the butler interrupted her in a conference with the housekeeper to tell her that Lord Moreland and his two younger brothers were there to see her.

She hurried out of the servants’ area, stopping at a mirror in the hall to examine her face and hair, and to repin a lock that was threatening to slip out. Reed and the twins were waiting for her in the formal drawing room. Alex and Con, who had been tussling with each other, straightened, letting go of each other, and turned to grin at her.

“Anna!”

“Hello, Con. Alex.” She went over to them and took their hands. “How glad I am to see you. I was afraid that you were going to leave without saying goodbye to me.”

“Never!” Con declared stoutly. “Reed told us he would bring us.”

Anna looked over at Reed. He smiled and made a slight bow to her. Warmth stirred in her. “Thank you,” she told him.

“I was glad to do it,” he replied.

“Reed took us to see Perkins yesterday,” Alex told her.

“Really?” Anna glanced toward Reed, surprised that he would have taken them along the same route where they had found the body.

“We drove by way of the road,” Reed explained, obviously aware of what she had been thinking.

“I see. And how was your patient?” Anna asked.

“Ever so much better. He can get up and walk around, though he still wears a bandage,” Alex went on.

“And Perkins said he was well enough that he thought we could take him back to London with us if we wanted,” Con finished.

“That’s wonderful news.”

“We’ll be very careful to keep him away from the boa,” Alex assured her.

“I am sure that would be a good idea.”

“And the parrot,” he added after a moment’s thought.

Anna smiled. “Well, I have no doubt that he will enjoy his new home. And I think it’s good that you are going home.”

Con nodded. “Rafe explained it to us—how Kyria would feel she would have to stay if we stayed, and if she stayed, the baby and Miss Farrington would, too, so the only way he can get them back to London is if we go, too.”

“That’s a very clever plan,” Anna said, her eyes twinkling.

“Yes,” Alex agreed, and his eyes twinkled back at her. “Rafe is very good at persuading everyone to do what he wants.”

“No doubt he told the same thing to Kyria,” Con added. “I told him so, and he laughed. But, still, it’s true. And, actually, I wouldn’t mind seeing Mama and Papa again.”

“I think you are both very wise,” Anna assured them. “You
should
go back to London. But I have to tell you that I will miss you both very much.”

“Will you?” Alex’s smile was radiant. “You’re the best, Anna.”

Con nodded. “I think you are the first woman who likes us who’s not one of our sisters.”

“Come, now. Surely not all the women you have met are that foolish.”

“I think they are,” Alex told her confidentially. “And quite a few men, as well. Kyria had to get rid of more than one suitor because he didn’t like us.”

“Well, obviously Kyria is not foolish. Now, will you let me give you a hug before you go, or are you too big?”

In answer she was seized in a double hug. Tears started in her eyes, and she realized, a little shocked, how very much she would miss the twins.

“All right, boys, we’d best be getting on,” Reed told them. “Why don’t you go on out to your ponies while I say goodbye to Miss Holcomb?”

The boys did as he suggested. They were, as Kyria had pointed out the day before, more subdued than usual, though “subdued” was a relative term in regard to them.

“I hope they will be all right,” Anna commented after they had gone. “I would hate for this to have hurt them.”

“I think they will get over it,” Reed replied. “Children are very resilient. Rafe and Kyria will be a great help to them. But it was a terrible thing to see. I—I wanted to make sure that you were recovering from the shock, as well.”

“Thank you. I think I am. I have had nightmares the last two nights. I suppose it is inevitable. But last night was better than the night before.” She looked at him, remembering how comforting it had been to lean on him, how strong and safe his arms had felt around her. She knew that if only she could go into his embrace now, she would feel better.

Anna glanced away, hoping that her thoughts did not show in her face. “Have you heard anything further about the murders?”

He shook his head. “No. Anna…I intend to find out who killed those people.” The tone of his voice made it a promise.

Startled, Anna looked up at him. Reed’s face was set, his gray eyes determined. “But why?” she blurted out. “Is that not the constable’s job?”

“Yes, no doubt. But the last time this was happening, the constable did not solve the matter. We cannot presume that he will this time. He is not accustomed to dealing with problems like this. A constable in a small village…” Reed frowned. “I just think he probably needs all the help that he can get.”

Anna nodded. She knew the constable better than Reed, and she knew that he was a simple man, accustomed to dealing with simple problems. She had to admit that the murders of the past week would be overwhelming to him.

“I have to make sure that no one else gets hurt,” Reed went on, and Anna realized suddenly that he was looking into the murders for her sake. He was afraid that his dream meant that she would be a target for the killer. He had said that he did not love her, but he must still care for her in some way. She told herself that it was terrible and selfish of her that this knowledge warmed her heart.

“You think that these deaths are somehow connected to me,” she told him. “Don’t you? Because of your dream.”

“I cannot help but wonder.”

“Perhaps your dream—if it meant anything—was nothing more than an indication that I would stumble upon the body. I do not see how the murders threaten me more than anyone else who lives here.”

“I don’t, either, at the moment. But we have no idea why he has killed those he did—or who else he might decide to kill. The only safe way to deal with the problem is to find out who has done these things.”

After a long moment, Anna said, “Did you notice that the first murder was of a servant girl and the second victim was a farmer—just as in the murders fifty years ago?”

“It occurred to me. One can only wonder why someone has decided to imitate what happened before. It seems that it must have some significance for the killer.”

“Yes, but what? The style of killings would be enough to raise the fear of the Beast in everyone. Why make them so exactly alike?”

“God only knows. I cannot think that we are dealing with a rational person. It may mean something to him that would never occur to a normal human being.”

“There were only two deaths the other time. Perhaps he will stop now.”

“We can hope, but I would not rely on it.”

“What are you going to do?” Anna asked.

“First, I want to look into the legend about the Beast, and also the earlier murders. There must be some reason why the killer wants us to think that the Beast is running amok again…why he has copied those other two deaths so closely. I plan to look through the Winterset library. I haven’t really had a chance to—it’s extensive. I thought there might be something there about the local legends. And I would like to look at those records the doctor spoke about. His father’s notes and the newspaper articles of the time. Perhaps something in the old murders will give me a clue as to what is happening now.”

“I want to help you,” Anna told him.

Reed looked at her, his eyebrows lifting. “But—”

“Don’t tell me that it is unsafe,” Anna warned. “You are already afraid that I am somehow involved. I don’t see how poking about would endanger me any more.”

“It is just that it is an unsavory subject,” he responded. “Are you sure you want to look at the doctor’s drawings and such?”

“I’m not sure that ‘want’ is the correct word. But I have seen one of the victims, and I do not think that the drawings of two murders in the past could be any worse than that. I feel an obligation to Estelle and that poor young man. I want to do something.”

“Of course. I will be glad for the help. You can escort me to the doctor’s. You know him far better than I.” He paused, then continued. “Tomorrow, perhaps. And we can look through the library at Winterset.”

“All right.” Anna felt suddenly a little breathless. It occurred to her that she might be playing with fire, being alone with Reed in his library, but she pushed the thought aside.

He arranged to come by the next day to take her to the doctor’s, and then he bowed over her hand and left. Anna stood for a moment, her hand pressed to her stomach, which was suddenly dancing with nerves.

Several times that evening, she started to write a note to send to Winterset, telling Reed that she had changed her mind, that she was not going with him to look at the doctor’s notes. She even got so far as actually writing part of the note, but then she tore it up. However much she told herself that it could be dangerous, she could not bring herself to refrain from going.

The next morning, she took extra care with her appearance, then grew angry at herself for doing so, and instead put on one of her plainest dresses and had Penny redo her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck. However, she did not realize that nothing could detract from the glow of her skin or the sparkle in her eyes, so that no matter how much she tried to look ordinary, her very anticipation at being with Reed enhanced her beauty.

Dr. Felton was somewhat surprised at their arrival on his doorstep, but when Anna told him that they wished to look at his father’s notes on the fifty-year-old murders, he agreed amiably and led them into the office behind his surgery. Unlocking a cabinet, he pulled out a metal box and opened it. Inside were a series of bound journals, which looked identical. Dr. Felton searched through them and, after a time, took out one.

“This is for the year of the murders,” he told them, handing the volume to them, and closing and replacing the box. “Would you like the newspaper accounts, too? Mrs. Ross, his old housekeeper, gave them to me several years ago. I don’t know, really, how helpful they are.”

He closed the cabinet and relocked it, then moved to another, unlocked, cabinet and dug through it until he came up with a plain box. He turned toward them, holding out the box. “These are all the articles she clipped. I haven’t read all of them. One can only describe the tone of most of them as hysterical. I am not sure how accurate they are.” He gave a faint smile. “I discovered that our newspapers’ ancestors were almost as given to hyperbole as the present-day issues.”

“This is perfect,” Anna assured him.

“You can look at them in here, if you’d like,” Dr. Felton told them, gesturing vaguely around his small office, which was almost entirely filled by his large desk and several cabinets. “Or you may take them home if you would rather….”