A Dreadful Splendor (37)

I insisted he go to the stables at once, as I could see myself back to the house. With another one of his curt nods, he was off.

It pleases me that I could give him something he is fond of. I hope it will be enough to secure the match. I can put my own happiness aside if it means keeping my home. As unromantic as it seems, I cannot lose my head in fanciful daydreams of love. I must think of the future of Somerset.





Chapter Twenty-Four




I made my way to breakfast on shaking legs. I was going to confront Mr. Lockhart about the greenhouse, but my attention was partly back in my room. Even though I’d left the door open, the thought of someone going into my room and flipping the picture upside down was bizarre enough to bother me more than any outright threat.

It was heavy to be sure. Even with Flora’s help, I couldn’t move it back into place. When I had brought her attention to it, she’d grown pale and trembled. I tried to soothe her fear by saying the spirits of the house like to let me know they’re close by, and that the flipped picture was a favourable sign for the séance. She couldn’t get out of the room fast enough, promising to have the footmen fix it later. At least the stunt added to the mystique Mr. Pemberton and I were hoping to achieve.

Mr. Pemberton.

He was also occupying my thoughts. There was more to him than the man I’d met in the kitchen that first night. He seemed more devoted to Audra’s memory than the bride herself. And who was the young woman in the portrait in his room? Curious, indeed.

I pulled the shawl tighter as I walked into the dining room. The fireplace was radiating a lovely heat, and the sideboard was laden with delectable-smelling food. Mr. Lockhart was partially hidden behind his newspaper. Harry was serving again and held out my chair. I steeled myself, trying to drum up courage.

“Good morning,” Mr. Lockhart said, putting down his paper. The darkness under his eyes was apparent, and his sunken cheeks seemed more pronounced today. “I’m sorry I missed dining with you last evening. Though Dr. Barnaby said he was delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“He was an agreeable dinner companion,” I said. Harry poured my coffee. I helped myself to a plate of eggs and toast, but purely for show. My stomach was jittery with nerves. A silver tray with an array of preserves sparkled in the sunlight. I noticed Mr. Lockhart’s plate was almost empty.

“Have you been eating alone?” I asked, putting a dollop of raspberry jam on my plate.

Harry arrived with a platter of sausage, and I nodded. I added cream and two sugar lumps to my coffee and stirred it with the tiny silver spoon.

“Mr. Pemberton was here earlier,” Mr. Lockhart answered. “He rises with the sun. I suppose that’s a difficult habit to break.” He kept the newspaper flat but continued to read, one wrinkled finger moving along the words.

I took a small bite of sausage and organized my thoughts. If I threatened to tell Mr. Pemberton what I’d overheard, perhaps I could gain some leverage. Mr. Lockhart and I could strike a deal, one that would allow me to leave Somerset with enough money to settle far out of the reach of Constable Rigby’s noose. I swallowed a mouthful of coffee, ready to confront him.

“I explored some of the grounds yesterday,” I said.

“How lovely,” Mr. Lockhart replied. “I believe fresh air is the cure for almost everything.” As if on cue, he started coughing and put a white handkerchief to his mouth. “My apologies,” he said, patting his lips. He tucked away the handkerchief in the breast pocket of his jacket. Harry poured more steaming coffee into his cup. “According to Dr. Barnaby, this is supposedly helpful to open up the lungs.” He gave a half-hearted smile as he took a sip. “I appreciate a treatment so easily added to my daily routine.”

I found it odd that he hadn’t coughed in the greenhouse. Still, I had to be wary. Impending death can make even the most sensible man desperate. And sometimes desperation leads to danger.

“Tell me,” he said, “have you enjoyed touring the property? Somerset’s land is vast. To see it all, you’d need to travel on horseback. Do you ride?”

I ignored his question. “I went to the greenhouse,” I said, observing him. The only shift in his expression was a slight twitch of his eye. “Such a warm and lovely place. No wonder I ended up sharing it unexpectedly.”

Harry began to clear away the dishes. I grew impatient for him to leave, but I was also curious to see how Mr. Lockhart might react in front of the footman.

I continued, “You and Mr. Sutterly seemed to be having the most interesting discussion.” My heart was in my throat, but I kept staring at him.

He was still as stone. For a moment I thought he’d died in front of my eyes, but then he excused Harry.

He most definitely had something to hide.

As soon as Harry was gone, Mr. Lockhart’s eyebrows came together. “How much did you overhear?” he asked.

I told him every word. There was no point in holding back.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he replied.

Stunned at his easy admittance of the truth, I said, “You knew who I was before we met.”

Mr. Lockhart pushed the paper aside. “I’d been considering hiring a spiritualist for Mr. Pemberton for some time and made discreet enquiries. Naturally, I heard of you, but you went by so many different names that you were impossible to track down.” His words were calm, but heavy with concentration. “Our paths crossing at the police station was purely circumstantial. When I realized who you were, I saw an opportunity I could not ignore.” He put a hand to his chest. “Please, you must believe me.”