A Dreadful Splendor (74)

Only the rack of dresses greeted me. I let out a long breath, my pulse easing.

Then the garments quivered. I heard something shift at the back of the wardrobe. I squinted between a gap in the dresses. Through the shadows, a huddled form took shape. Instinctively, I leaned closer, trying to focus.

An eye blinked back at me.

Clawed fingers darted out from between the clothing, reaching for me. I screamed and fell backward, crashing to the floor. The weight of my attacker crushed my chest. Her face was stretched in a grimace with veins bulging and purple. “Help me,” she cried out, grabbing at my collar.

I coughed out another scream, slapping at her wrists. Mrs. Donovan was unexpectedly strong. Her unkempt hair was covered in twists of cobwebs. A string of drool dripped from her mouth, almost reaching my own as I struggled underneath her.

“Help me,” she repeated. “Help me save her. It’s my fault she’s still here! Can’t you hear her at night?”

As I tried to push her face away my fingers found the chain of a necklace and pulled. There was a snap as it came loose in my hand. Something flew off the chain and clinked under the bed.

There was a pounding at the door.

I twisted my hips and managed to throw her off. She flung herself at my legs, pulling me back.

Mrs. Donovan pressed her face close to mine. She sobbed between words. “She won’t let me have peace. You must help me! Please, I’m begging you, make her stop.”

“Lady Audra?” I asked carefully, hoping to calm her down. It was obvious Mrs. Donovan was violently unstable.

She dropped her chin and continued to cry. I saw the shaved patch of her scalp and the oddly shaped wound. The stitches had let go, and it was bleeding freely. “I took the baby, but I should have taken her too. But now she’s angry with me. She wants me to suffer like she did.”

“You don’t have to be afraid,” I said. “Just tell me what happened.” Mrs. Donovan started to sob again. I took advantage and scrambled to the door to unlock it.

William rushed in, pushing me to the side as he crouched beside her. She looked at him with imploring adoration as he wrapped his arms around, cradling her. They began to rock back and forth on the floor.

“I saved the baby,” she murmured.

“Shh,” he soothed, tucking her head under his chin. He was oblivious to the blood seeping onto his hands.

“Of course you did,” I said, eager for her to keep talking. “It was very brave of you.”

William threw me a warning look. He then reached into his pocket and produced a flask. He was able to persuade Mrs. Donovan to take a few sips. Soon, her eyes closed, and she fell asleep.

I stayed crouched on the floor with them. Even though I had been upset with William, this tender version was diluting my ire. “I had no idea she was this ill,” I said.

“The attack has brought her guilt to the surface,” he replied. His voice lacked the usual spite. “Despite the obvious culprit, she feels responsible for Audra’s death.”

“Obvious culprit?” I pried.

“People didn’t start dying until he came to Somerset.”

“What did Mr. Pemberton do?” I asked.

He tiredly shook his head at me. “Flora told me you were asking about the portrait in his bedroom. Just like Audra, she is no longer alive. I find it interesting how all the beautiful women in his life die young.”

I swallowed.

“Does anyone know you’re here?” he asked. “If you don’t return home, will anyone know where to look for your bones?”

Sadly, I could only think of Constable Rigby.

Mrs. Donovan squirmed in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open. She looked at William and smiled, then a frown of confusion took its place. “The baby?” She raised a hand to the back of her head and winced.

“All is well,” he said calmly. “Let’s get you back to your room.” He helped her stand, keeping an arm around her waist. In her nightgown, she looked rather frail and not at all like her grimly staunch self.

I took the green blanket from my bed and laid it over her shoulders, then picked up the lamp, prepared to go with them.

“No need,” he said. “I know my way in the dark.”

I opened the door for them. William leaned down and said, “I know it’s hard to deny those blue eyes, but I warned you when we first met. Remember? Nothing has changed, Miss Timmons. In fact, I would say your peril has increased. You’re taking a dangerous risk staying here.”

I watched as they inched down the hallway before being swallowed by the darkness. Mrs. Donovan may have had a head injury, but her fear was real, and so was her request to contact the spirit world.

Exhausted, but still rattled, I tidied up the closet, picking up a few of the dresses she must have pulled down. My eye caught a glimmer on the rug.

I bent down and found the chain that broke in my hand during our struggle. I checked under the bed, remembering how something had fallen off. Halfway under the bed a key lay innocently in the dust. I knew she had a double key to my room! But when I compared it to the one in my lock, it was different. Then something pieced together in my mind. If this wasn’t the key to my room, it must be the missing key to Audra’s. However, now that I had the tiara tucked away in the library, I had no need to go back there.

I went to the window, tapping the sill with the key, trying to process William’s warning. The full moon illuminated the grounds. A lone figure cut across the lawn to the forest at a frantic pace. The posture was unmistakable—Mr. Pemberton.