Page 63 of The Curse of Penryth Hall
I could imagine. I rather enjoyed not knowing what people thought of me. To be subjected to their most unfettered thoughts and feelings with no control must be hell.
Something shifted in his expression, and he turned me to face him, gently holding me by the shoulders. “It is, you cannot—” But whatever he was about to say was interrupted as we heard the telltale sound of footsteps on the gravel. I spun out of his grip to see Dr. Heinrich coming up the path, wild with excitement.
“You found something?” I called out, hurrying down the path to meet him.
Dr. Heinrich twirled his silver pocket watch by its chain. “Indeed. The marks on the body match those on the lad. Whatever weapon sliced up Edward Chenowyth is most certainly the same one used for the boy. A blade of some sort. Curved. Very sharp.”
Ruan shot me a victorious look. Bastard.
“But I found something very intriguing that I think might interest you both.” He glanced between the two of us, pausing for dramatic emphasis. Dr. Heinrich, while overly erudite, had a penchant for theatrics. It was why he came to my salons in the first place. After all, a man can only be so staid and proper before becoming an absolute bore.
“Well, get on with it.”
“Ever the impatient one, Miss Vaughn.” The doctor laughed. He tucked his pocket watch away and folded his arms across his chest, puffing it out proud as a prized peacock. “Edward Chenowyth was poisoned.”
“He was what?”
“I’m certain of it. He was dead several hours before he was carved up like a Christmas goose.”
My stomach heaved slightly at the memory. Good God, I might never eat meat again after this venture.
“Mr. Owen said you had some notes about the previous set of killings. Do you still have them? I’d fancy taking a look at them if you don’t mind.”
Oh! I’d almost forgotten all about Dr. Quick’s diary. “They’re back at the cottage. If you come with us, I can let you have them. Perhaps they’ll help us determine if there’s a connection between them?”
He nodded slightly, his forehead screwed up in thought.
“Do you know what the poison was?”
He shook his head. “I can’t be certain, his stomach contents are in a state of decomposition. I’d need my laboratory back in Exeter to do much more with this. Or a fresh body.”
“Well, hopefully we won’t have any more of those,” I said with the nagging sensation that we would indeed have another; the only question was whose and how soon.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVENThe White Witch Returns
THEbirds sang out along the hedge by the dirt path as we made our way back to the cottage from Penryth Hall. Ruan was quiet in thought, a strange and new undercurrent of tension flickering between us. One that hadn’t been there when I left Lothlel Green yesterday. I’d only caught glimpses of it here and there since returning, but with Dr. Heinrich’s proclamation of poison it became crystal-clear—Ruan was afraid. But of what? We walked together toward the cottage, a deep divot between Ruan’s brows, as he mumbled to himself beneath his breath. Something quiet enough I didn’t have a prayer of understanding.
And that was when I saw her. Again. The solitary figure at the junction where the rutted road curved upward to Ruan’s cottage just as Benedict had described the night of the storm, when he offered her a ride. Unease ran up into my throat at the sight of her. The woman’s uncannily bright eyes were fixed upon us. She’d been waiting. She knew where we’d been and where we were going.
I grabbed Ruan by the arm, halting him. “We should go back. I… I don’t think we should speak to her.”
The muscles in his arm tensed as he glanced up. He must have not seen her before. Ruan furrowed his brow before brushing my temple with this thumb. The tightness in my chest began to dissolve. Slowly at first, but with growing intensity.
“You’re terrified,” he whispered.
“I’m not afraid. I simply don’t like the look of her. She was back in town as well, watching Jago’s house. Charles told me she’s been asking about you. This is the woman. The one everyone has spoken of. I’m certain of it.”
“All the more reason to see what she wants. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of witches, Ruby Vaughn.” His unusual eyes sparkled with the barest hint of teasing. The wind was picking up again as we drew nearer to her. Cool and angry, with the first few spitting drops of rain. I hastily wiped them from my cheek.
She possessed the same strange agelessness Ruan did. Or perhaps it was just my imagination. The only signs that she wasn’t carved in stone were the way her eyes would follow Ruan along with the faint rise of her chest beneath the dark fabric. She didn’t pay me any mind at all.
Only him.
Always him.
And I loathed her. For no reason at all, other than I knew she was a threat to us.Us?The word came to my mind on its own. But it was true all the same.
“I’ve been looking for you, Pellar.” She lifted a finger pointing at his chest, revealing a pair of brightly pigmented enamel bracelets—the only hint of color on her.
