A Dreadful Splendor (39)

We entered the foyer and stopped dead in our tracks. Mr. Pemberton was coming in through the main door in his riding attire. He handed his hat and gloves off to Bramwell. “Perfect timing, Miss Timmons,” he said. “I believe you promised me a list of items you require for the upcoming session.”

His cheeks were rosy from the recent exercise, and his tall, straight posture was in opposition to my exhausted stance after last night’s escapades.

Mr. Lockhart gave me an encouraging smile, probably pleased by the notion that his lord was warming up to the idea of the séance. “Good luck,” he whispered to me.

Full of conflicting notions, I followed Mr. Pemberton to his study. I had been certain that I’d have my answers after confronting Mr. Lockhart, but now I was more confused than ever. I also noted, most grievously, that it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny Mr. Lockhart his dying request. He was so kind to me. I began to consider if I could somehow satisfy both him and Mr. Pemberton at my séance, thereby keeping my end of the deal to both men.

Despite the long curtains being pulled open, looking out over a cloudless sky, the study remained dark and gloomy. Mr. Pemberton closed the door behind me.

“I haven’t made a list yet,” I started. “I’ve brought most of my props with me.”

He put up a hand. “That was a lie for the benefit of Mr. Lockhart. Early this morning, I went to Mrs. Donovan for the key to Audra’s room, but after searching the key ring twice and the cupboard in Bramwell’s office, she declared it was missing. She’s quite upset and assured me she had it in her possession the day before you arrived.”

I pictured her lurking about in the darkness, spying on me last night as I tried my key in Audra’s door. Perhaps Flora had mentioned to the other staff that I had requested access. I had a strong notion that she knew exactly where the key was, but was lying to Mr. Pemberton. “Is she implying that I stole it? How convenient.”

He ran a hand through his golden hair and sat down behind his desk. He opened a drawer, grumbled under his breath, then slammed it quickly. “It’s extremely maddening, to be honest. I have to rely on Mrs. Donovan to keep the rest of the staff in place, but her loyalty is to Somerset and those already established within its walls—not me.”

It appeared Mr. Pemberton felt like an outsider, even in his own home. I offered, “I believe this is encouraging for the séance. If someone has stolen the key to Lady Audra’s room, that means someone is afraid the truth will be exposed. Fear is an accurate indicator of guilt.”

He lifted his gaze to meet mine with surprised gratitude. “Thank you for saying that,” he said.

I was struck by his affable temper. There was a curious sense of understanding about him that was completely lacking the first few times we spoke. What had changed?

“I hope you’re right,” he continued. “Even so, what’s the purpose of being Earl of Chadwick if a simple key is beyond my reach?” It was a complaint, but he sounded almost helpless.

“Mr. Lockhart mentioned that you are considering selling some of the land.”

“I’ve been making enquiries, yes.” He took out a paper and dipped his quill. “How many guests do you intend to have for the séance?” he asked, swiftly changing the topic. “Do we have any ideas whom to target yet?”

“It’s unclear at this time,” I answered. Although Mrs. Donovan may have just earned herself a chair. “Is that a difficult decision?” I pressed. “To break up Somerset? It’s your home, now, isn’t it?” I couldn’t imagine anyone giving up such a place, where there was always plenty to eat and a soft bed to sleep in.

He looked up from the paper. “This will never be my home.”

“Oh.” I had nothing to relate; the notion of a home had never been a reality for me. The only constant in my life had been Maman. “Still, you have the means to go wherever you please. You can choose where to call home. That’s rarer than you realize.”

There was the hint of annoyance behind his words. “Because I’m wealthy?”

“Because you’re a man.”

He blinked, surprised, and then his expression grew thoughtful. He put down the quill and said, “I don’t pretend to be blind to my advantages. I’m simply saying that Somerset, even in all its grandeur, can never be a place where I feel at ease.”

I pictured the key, always on the inside of his door.

His voice took on a careful tone. “I do find it intriguing that you’ve chosen the library for the séance,” he said. “The staff avoid that room primarily because of the portrait of Audra’s grandfather. They’re convinced that he haunts this estate. I believe they’re correct. Maybe not in a spiritual way, but certainly through a legacy of fear.”

The hair on my arms stood at attention. Why had he not mentioned this last night? “What do you know about him?”

“When I received the letter from Mr. Lockhart explaining that I was next in line for the title of Lord Chadwick, I was completely taken aback. I had never heard of Somerset Park. I was curious as to why my own father had never spoken of it, so I searched his office and found a trunk of his old correspondence. There were letters from Audra’s father, from when they were younger, not yet twenty. And it was clear after reading them that my own father had visited this manor several times throughout his youth, but something happened on the last visit, and he never returned.” He tapped his fingers against the desk in thought. “Somerset Park was built by Audra’s great-grandfather. I’ve heard rumors of a fortune made in smuggling. Apparently, the caves along the shoreline are ideal for such activities.”