A Murder in Time(129)

“Did you see the vicar?”

“Nay.”

“He was riding. You didn’t see someone on horseback?”

“Nay.”

Was he telling the truth? Kendra’s gut said no. But if he was lying, for what purpose? She let that go, and circled back to Rose. “After Rose gave you the sandwich and you talked, what happened?”

“Nothin’ happened.”

“After you talked, did you see where Rose went? Back into the kitchen? To the gardens? Think Thomas. This could be important.”

“I dunno. I left.”

“You’re not thinking!”

“Miss Donovan.”

She swung around, and glared at Alec.

“He does not know anything,” Alec said gently.

Anger and frustration rose inside of her. And fear, terrible fear.

“Miss Donovan, Thomas does not know where Rose is,” Alec said, even more gently.

She let out a sigh, and stepped back. “I want you to keep thinking, Thomas. If you remember something, anything, you will let us know.”

He looked at her like a dumb animal. She wanted to hit him. Instead, she turned on her heel, and walked out the door.

Though she walked fast, Alec easily fell into step beside her. He wisely kept silent.

They’d entered the forest when Kendra finally spoke. “I still think he’s hiding something. Or not telling the truth.”

“Maybe he was poaching in the woods. ’Tis a serious crime, punishable by transportation, even hanging. The Duke does not adhere to those harsh penalties, but Thomas may err on the side of caution.”

Kendra rubbed her hands against her arms, suppressing a shiver as she considered hanging for such a simple transgression. I don’t belong here.

Neither one spoke as they retraced their footsteps through the woods. As they emerged from the forest, Alec suddenly grasped her arm. His touch brought her out of her dark reverie.

She saw what he had seen: a large crowd walking along the path that led to the front courtyard. Her first thought was that Aldridge had organized another search party. He was walking with Sam and Dr. Munroe. But then she saw the black bag Munroe was carrying, and her stomach knotted.

“No.” She shook off Alec’s hand, picked up her skirts and ran. Her heart was thundering in her chest by the time she caught up to the Duke. She stood transfixed, but she knew. Dear God, she knew.

Aldridge met her eyes. “Yes,” he answered her unspoken question. “The maid’s been found.”





52

In a distant corner of her mind, Kendra was glad that she hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, because she knew that her stomach would’ve revolted. As it was, the sour taste of bile surged up the back of her throat, making her want to gag. She pressed a hand to her stomach, as if she had the power to keep the churning acids contained by her touch.

“Where?” She didn’t ask whether Rose was alive. She knew that she was not.

“Near the lake, where the first girl was found.”

Just a short distance from the hermit’s hut. Had the tweeny been dumped there while they’d been talking to Thomas? Had they just missed the murderer?

“We searched the area yesterday.” Alec came up behind Kendra, and laid a warm hand on her shoulder.

“He knew,” Sam said, looking angry. “The bastard’s been watching us.”

“Rebecca is waiting for you inside the castle, Miss Donovan,” Aldridge began.

“I have to go to Rose,” she said sharply. “I need to see the body.”

Alec’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “Is that truly necessary?” He was furious suddenly. “Hell and damnation, why put yourself through that?”

“I have to go! It’s why I’m here!” she shouted. But was that true? Why was she here if she couldn’t save anybody? If she couldn’t save Rose?

Alec frowned, puzzled. Before he could question her, Aldridge lifted a weary hand. “I will allow you to accompany us, Miss Donovan. But you shall not attend the girl’s postmortem. Is that understood?”

Kendra shifted her gaze to the Duke. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Then come.” The Duke’s expression was bleak, but fiercely determined. “Whatever has been done, has been done. ’Tis time to bring the poor girl home.”



Someone had covered Rose’s naked body up with a coarse wool coat. Two men stood as sentries next to the body, tears shimmering in their eyes. This wasn’t like Lydia or April Duprey—Rose was one of their own. They probably knew her family, had watched her grow up.

She was only fifteen.

Kendra had looked down at other fifteen-year-olds who’d suffered the butchery of a serial killer, and had felt pity. Now she also felt a sorrow so heavy that it made her heart ache.

“You do not need to subject yourself to this, Miss Donovan,” repeated Alec, his voice low. “Why are you punishing yourself this way?”

Am I punishing myself? Self-flagellation for not protecting Rose? She didn’t know.

“Let Dr. Munroe take care of her,” he persisted softly, so close that she could feel his body heat.

Kendra was tempted to do as he suggested, to take the coward’s way out. No one here would think less of her—but she’d hate herself for it.