Page 11 of Spellbound
“At that point, it was simply because of someone,” he said. “I had not identified who was watching us. But when I was walking toward the village, just after it started to rain, the mist grow so thick and heavy I could hardly see.”
“He struck you?”
Desmond nodded. “With a rock. A large and very heavy one—but I only recognized him when I was lying on my back on the road and he was standing over me. My assumption is that he left me there thinking I was already dead or near enough to it that I would not be a problem for him… and I think he was moved to violence because he knew I would be an obstacle to his true objective.”
“Which is?” She knew what he would say. That fear had been her constant companion for the last six months. Since the man had arrived in Highgate-on-Trent, he’d made it his mission to denigrate her at every turn and to sway others to his cause.
Desmond’s fists clenched at his side, as he spoke, “I thought his choices of material for his sermons to be odd and somewhat repetitive. Every scripture referenced was one related to the wickedness of women. Every caution he offered was to emphasize that tolerance of another’s sin made one culpable of it, as well. I think, had you been alone in that clearing, the outcome would have been very, very different… I would not have been the one injured and left for dead.”
Belladonna shivered. She knew that he was right. Knew it with a certainty that came not simply from her mind, but from that other part of herself. The part that allowed her to read the leaves and the cards with such insight. The part of her, she thought bitterly, that was never wrong.
ELEVEN
Eugenie Frye patted Edwina Hollander’s hand sympathetically. It was very early in the day for a call. Indeed, Mrs. Hollander had been on her doorstep almost as the sun came up. “He will be found, Mrs. Hollander.”
“When he didn’t return the first night, I should have rallied others to search. But—” Mrs. Hollander looked away, as if uncomfortable with the subject.
“But he is a fully grown man who is entitled to spend his nights elsewhere if he chooses,” Genie finished for her.
Edwina sighed with relief. “Precisely. But he would never have stayed gone so long without sending word. Not unless something had occurred that had rendered him incapable. What should I do, Mrs. Hollander? You are the only person I could think of to ask for guidance in this situation.”
Eugenie nodded. “I know that Highgate-on-Trent has changed. That the past six months under the guidance of Reverend Stalker has seen formerly reasonable people turned into zealots… and others into recluses, lest they court his censure.”
Mrs. Hollander stared at her curiously for a moment. Then lowering her eyes to conceal her expression, she asked, “You speak of Miss Goodwynne, don’t you?”
Eugenie leaned forward and picked up the teapot, refilling both their cups. “I do. Thegood reverendhas made her already tenuous position in the community one that is fraught with constant discord.”
“I know very little of her. But what I do know has given me pause,” Mrs. Hollander admitted. “There is something about her, an air of otherworldliness that makes me quite uncomfortable.”
“Belladonna is my friend,” Eugenie insisted. “And while there is such an element about her, I can promise you, she would never harm anyone.”
“My brother was very taken with her,” Edwina admitted. “And I confess that I caught her looking at him several times during the course of your gathering. Enough that I think perhaps she might have been taken with him, as well. Would she… Could she help in some way?”
Eugnie lifted her brows in surprise. “I presume you do not mean in searching?”
“It would be searching,” Edwina insisted, “But in a way that utilized her very unique skills.”
Eugenie had never asked Belladonna for spells. She’d never asked her for readings, though they had been offered from time to time over the years of their acquaintance. She’d looked at them as a sort of entertainment, but that did not mean she dismissed her friend’s abilities. Too much had been seen and heard not to take them seriously. “There is only one way to find out,” Eugenie said, ringing the bell for a servant.
Millworthy, the man who served as butler, footman and sometimes driver, entered the drawing room. “Mrs. Hollander, you rang?”
“Have my chaise readied. I’ll be escorting Mrs. Hollander on an important errand.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Millworthy replied and slipped from the room.
Eugenie looked back to Edwina. “We shall simply pay a call on Belladonna and ask her for assistance. I cannot imagine she would refuse—regardless of any fancy she might have for your brother. Contrary to what others say of her, she is a remarkably kind and generous person. Indeed, she is simply the best and most giving friend I have ever known.”
Edwina appeared doubtful. But Eugenie understood why. They had only just moved to Highgate shortly before her young husband’s untimely death. She’d had a full month to listen to Reverend Stalker’s persecutorial diatribe’s against sinful women consorting with dark forces. Still, Edwina Hollander was no one’s fool to be led blindly. She was on shaky footing at present, something that Eugenie understood only too well. Losing one’s husband wasn’t simply about grief or loss. Losing one’s husband altered one’s place in the world. It made one either an object of pity or a mark to be taken advantage of. Mrs. Hollander had at least had her brother to lean on during the worst of the months in the immediate aftermath. No doubt he had protected her from those who would exploit her grief. For Eugenie, she’d had only Belladonna. But that had been enough.
She uttered a silent prayer that whatever it was that had delayed Mr. Crane from returning to his sister’s home was not so terrible as the fate that had befallen her husband. There was a fragility to her that made one question whether or not the woman could bear another loss of that magnitude. Eugenie prayed they would not find out.
Their conversation had diedinto silence that had now stretched for several hours. Belladonna was in her small kitchen, kneading dough with a force that revealed just how troubled she was by all that had been revealed.
The quiet became intolerable. Despite his dizziness, Desmond rose from the narrow bed and closed the distance between himself and Belladonna. “You need to understand something, Belladonna. I am not some weakling who will be easy for this man to dispose of him. I am injured now because I was taken unawares by him. Because… well, because I had presumed the only threat he posed was to you. I was quite obviously mistaken in that assumption. But I shan’t underestimate him again. With my last breath, I vow that I will not let him hurt you.”
She shook her head. “Those are promises you cannot possibly keep, Desmond. Promises that I do not wish for you to! You will not be with me every minute of every day. Nor would I expect you to place your entire life on hold—or worse, at risk— to play guard for me.”
He took her hands, turning her to face him. “You could stay at Highwood Abbey. I know that Edwina would not mind. She would be glad of the company, and under the circumstances would certainly wish to offer you the protection that can be had there… and it would give us time.”
