A Dreadful Splendor (59)

Making no move to leave, Mrs. Donovan said, “Is everything to your satisfaction? I hope you are enjoying your stay here.” Except her expression looked like she was getting ready to use the chamber pot. She took a step closer. The lamp filled in the space between us, throwing shadows over her face. The effect was not an improvement.

“I know you like being waited on,” she said. “I see how you look at the lord too. I suppose you fancy this for yourself. But it will take more than dance lessons in the library and dark strolls in the greenhouse to become the next Lady Chadwick.”

The words wrestled so fast to get out, I practically choked. “I don’t want any part of Somerset Park,” I declared. “Or Lord Chadwick. And I don’t want you coming in here writing messages in my ghost book or moving the paintings on my wall.” I pointed to the picture of the schooner, now upright and perfectly straight.

The corner of her mouth curled into a sinister smile. “You sound positively mad. Perhaps I should call for Dr. Barnaby.”

I’d reached my limit for her interference and snide remarks. And knowing that Mr. Pemberton trusted me made me bold. “Perhaps you should stop spreading falsehoods and giving your opinion on a matter in which you are most grievously misinformed. Lord Chadwick and I only meet to discuss the séance. His sole purpose is to contact Lady Audra so he may tell her how much she is loved and missed.” A lie, of course, but one that needed to be reinforced.

Her face turned red. “Generations of Linwoods are rolling in their graves at the injustice of his taking the title.” She made a disgusted sound at the back of her throat. “He never cared for Lady Audra’s well-being.”

“And you did?”

“Of course!”

I’d never heard such passion from Mrs. Donovan. She was close to losing control, vulnerable even. I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Then why did you let Mr. Sutterly visit her room the night before the wedding? You were aware he opposed the marriage. Why did you willingly put Lady Audra in that precarious position?”

Her eyes flashed accusingly at me. “I was the only one to see her that night.”

“Mr. Sutterly admitted it himself. Why would he lie?”

She shook her head. “You’re the one who is lying.”

“Only one of you can be telling the truth, Mrs. Donovan. And I find it interesting that of everyone at Somerset Park, only you and Mr. Sutterly have ever mentioned Lord Chadwick not being the rightful heir.”

The lamp in her grip started to shake. Her eyes lost their sharp intensity. There was no doubt that I had found Mrs. Donovan’s weak spot. I had to take advantage.

I softened my tone. “You were outside her door all night, carefully keeping watch, but something happened that was beyond your control.”

Her gaze wavered downward.

“You know what happened and now you’re scared.” I let a moment pass, then I added, “I can help you not be afraid.”

Lifting her chin, Mrs. Donovan gave a tired sigh. “Fear does not tax me; it fades . . . unlike guilt. I owe you no explanation, but I swear on Lady Audra’s grave I do not know what happened to her. She was safe and very much alive when I delivered her nightcap.”

Despite my strong dislike of Mrs. Donovan, my bones knew she was telling the truth. Particularly about the guilt. It never fades.

She straightened her posture, reclaiming her usual serious manner, and made her way to the door. She turned and looked pointedly at the green blanket again. “Asking for a key to your room was wise. Make sure you use it. We want all good girls tucked away safely for the night.”

After she left, I locked the door and tried to shake off the chill. Her comment about Mr. Pemberton hung in the air, confusing and irritating. My romantic notions were few and far between. The only men I knew were customers at Miss Crane’s and greasy coppers. Regardless of Mrs. Donovan’s preposterous notions, my heart would not be given away so easily.

Maman told me, Love brings pain, ma chérie, we see it every sé ance. It’s my job to heal their grief. I tell them what they want to hear, and their hope fills in the rest because they are looking with their hearts, not their eyes—the heart sees. Even weeks later, they will not remember the vague promises I made or the things I guessed incorrectly. They only remember what they want to believe.

If it’s so easily fooled, how can anyone trust their heart? I had asked, absorbing everything she said.

Exactly, she praised. The only guarantee love brings is heartache.

I knew she was talking about my father and the tragedy that happened. But I couldn’t help but feel a sting because I was the result of their love. I often imagined what my life would be like if my father hadn’t fallen into the harbour that day.

I went directly to the vanity and opened the top drawer. I took the tiara and rewrapped it in several petticoats and shoved it to the back. It needed a new hiding place, one where no one else would come across it, but one I could easily access without being seen. I’d do it as soon as everyone was asleep—or, in Mrs. Donovan’s case, when she hung upside down in her cave.

I frowned at the drawer. The sparse contents contrasted to Audra’s vanity drawer, giving me a peculiar sense of déjà vu.

Despite my full stomach, I poured myself the hot toddy and prepared for bed. I wondered who had helped Mrs. Donovan turn the painting upside down. There was no way she could have done it herself. And even more so, I was eager to learn who Flora had seen stumbling out of the woods that night.