A Dreadful Splendor (44)

Something glinted in the mirror’s reflection above the vanity. I hissed a trail of curses. I was still wearing the tiara! I didn’t dare pick the lock again to return it; it was too risky. Mrs. Donovan was already setting me up as the person who’d stolen the key. Being found with the tiara would be disastrous. I paced, trying to come up with a plan. There was no way I could ask William to let me back in, especially after he’d asked me not to touch anything.

The only reasonable action was to keep the tiara, at least for tonight. I wrapped it in a petticoat and shoved it to the very back of the top drawer.

Once in bed, William’s story played over in my mind. If what he told me was true, it was no wonder he loathed Mr. Pemberton. And it was obvious that neither Mr. Lockhart nor anyone else at Somerset was aware.

But none of this new information would help me get closer to finding a target for the séance. And what did that mean for me?

I flopped an arm over my eyes and groaned, unable to come up with a solution. “Stop thinking and go to sleep,” I told myself.

The mouse scratched on the other side of the wall. “You too,” I mumbled.



I woke to the sound of running footsteps. I sat up in bed, my ears straining in the darkness. Someone was crying. I grabbed my dress robe and went out to the hallway. There was a lingering smell of decay. The silence was as thick as the darkness, and I began to suspect I had dreamt the noise, but then something large tumbled down the stairs.

After locking my door, I took a candle and went down the grand staircase, making sure to keep my hand on the railing. The small shadows from my lone flame played against the wall, making it seem like I was being followed by my own dark twin. The staircase curved as the newel post came into view. My fingers brushed the face of the carved angel. I snapped my hand back in surprise. My fingers were wet. There appeared to be tears on her face. I caught one on the tip of my finger and tasted it. Salty, like tears—like the ocean.

The decaying odor was stronger on the main floor. I followed the scent, squinting against the dark as I held the candle out. It led me to the foyer. The only sign of life was the soft, flickering light from Mr. Pemberton’s study.

I found him hunched over the desk, several candles providing a soft light for him to work by. Stacks of paper formed a wall in front of him. He squinted at the clock on the shelf. “What in heaven’s name are you doing up, Miss Timmons?”

“I thought I heard something,” I said. “Was it you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve only been catching up on correspondence.”

I took a step closer, nodding to his overflowing desk. “What is this?”

“It’s what running an estate looks like.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked a few times. “The noise, what do you think it was?”

It seemed foolish to bring up the possibility of someone running about with a pail of water, considering the amount of people he was responsible for employing. I had a vague notion William would not be as conscientious.

“It’s not important,” I said. “But I have to tell you something Mr. Sutterly revealed to me. He believes he is the rightful heir to Somerset. He said Lord Chadwick confessed this to him on his deathbed.” I excluded the fact he and Audra were secretly in love, deciding to keep that information to myself until I was more certain of how he would react. I worried that jealousy would only cloud his judgment.

His eyes immediately sharpened, all sign of exhaustion erased from his expression. “And when was this conversation?”

“Earlier this evening,” I said. “I was able to confront him after he’d been drinking for some time.” I purposely avoided mentioning her bedroom, and of course, the tiara I accidentally stole.

He stood and came around to my side of the desk. His shirt was untucked. It reminded me of William the first time I saw him, except Mr. Pemberton was very much sober and smelled only of soap. “And what does your instinct tell you?” He folded his arms in front of his chest and regarded me with a stare that left no place for me to hide. “In other words, what did Mr. Sutterly not tell you?”

I remembered the red mark across his neck. “He didn’t tell me what he wanted,” I said. “Only what he had lost. He seemed nothing more than tragically desperate.”

He nodded. “An accurate assessment. I’ve known Mr. Sutterly for nearly a year. He has never struck me as anything other than vulgar and useless. I’m more than happy to sign Somerset over to him if he wants to buy it. I’d gladly give up the title as well if it was within my means.”

I was surprised by his candor. “You’re not threatened by his allegation?”

“It’s no secret he has hated me since I set foot on this property. No, I’m not concerned by his claim. By his own admission, the only other person who can corroborate this story, Audra’s father, is dead. He’s trying to control the narrative in his favour.”

“True,” I replied. William’s claim had also been rejected by Mr. Lockhart. “But I would be remiss if I did not mention it to you.”

“I’m glad you did. This is exactly what we need to do to ensure the séance produces the desired result. Thank you for coming to me, although it didn’t have to be at this hour. You should get your sleep.”

His comment felt like praise. And oddly enough, his easy dismissal of William’s story had put me at ease.