Page 13 of The Curse of Penryth Hall
I was quickly losing interest in our little verbal spar. “Evidently you. But I still don’t understand what you are supposed to do about him—” I pointed to Edward’s body. “He’sdead, in case you’ve not noticed, and while I understand from the constable that you’re some kind of healer, unless you have the ability to walk on water I don’t think he’s coming back anytime in the next century.”
“I can’t.”
I snorted.
“At least not as last I checked.” The edge of his mouth curved up in amusement before he grew grave again.
My jaw dropped. How could this man be irreverent over a corpse? Then again, how could I? We were arguing about something inconsequential when there was a much larger problem here. Tamsyn’s husband was dead. I suppose not an altogether unfortunate event. However, someone in this village had gutted Edward Chenowyth like a fish, and I was onlyfairlycertain it wasn’t me.
He startled then shook his head hard as if he’d been struck by a wayward thought or been stung by a bee. What a verypeculiar man. My fingers drummed impatiently on my forearms. “Pellar or no, you surely can’t believe it’s a curse that killed him. Could it have been an animal? A beast of some sort?”
“Why can’t I?”
I couldn’t tell if he was having me on or if he was serious. My pulse thundered in my ears and I shifted the shotgun. “Forgive me, Mr. Kivell, but I’m not feeling very clever right now. I do wish you would tell me what is going on. I come here to deliver books, see an old friend, and I wake up to…”All of this.I gestured broadly at him, unwilling to even say the word. “And you.And a whole lot of nonsense about curses andPellars. I didn’t sign up to be in the middle of some sort of—”
“Some sort of what, Miss Vaughn?” He drew closer.
“Story, Mr. Kivell. I didn’t sign up to be in someone’s fairy tale.”
“It’s not a fairy tale.” The wind rustled through the leaves overhead as shadows descended in the woods. “Least of all for him.”
Something about this man set my teeth on edge. The way he seemed to see me. To know me. And yet I couldn’t help but push back. “There’s no such thing as magic, Mr. Kivell. No curses. No monsters in the night. None of it. There’s a perfectly rational explanation for what happened to Sir Edward and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”
He took another step nearer. Close enough I could catch his scent, earthy and dark. “It’s not a folktale for them. No matter what actually happened here last night. To the people of Lothlel Green the curse is as real as you or I.”
“You can’t possibly believe in this nonsense. It’s the twentieth century, Mr. Kivell. We have science. Logic. Mathematics! There’s no room in the modern world for magic or curses.” Even as I said the words, I saw how pathetic my reasoning was. The simple fact was I refused to believe. Couldn’t even conceiveof it. Because if such a thingwerereal, it opened up a box of questions about my own past that I wasn’t ready to answer.
Something in his expression softened at that. As if he sensed my distress, and for half a second the charming man from yesterday stood before me. “I’m not sure what I believe. But until I prove for certain it’s mortal hands that’ve done this work, there’s not another soul in all of Cornwall that’s going to want to be within ten miles of Lothlel Green. The old ways are strong here.”
“But you’re an educated man—”
“—I’m a Cornishman first, Miss Vaughn. My blood runs through the very rock and sea and soil here. And while you may not have respect for these people—my people—I do.”
Chastened, I hugged my arms to my belly.
“You’re in Cornwall now, Miss Vaughn. It’s best for you and I both that you remember that.”
So much for our warm repartee of yesterday. It seemed that Ruan Kivell and I were at odds. Likely always to be. And if that was the case, I would have to bring sense to Penryth Hall all on my own. “Well, I for one intend to prove that it’s a man at the root of all this, not a monster.”
For a moment—just that—I thought I’d had the best of Ruan Kivell. He turned, slinging his haversack over his shoulder and making for the western edge of the copse before he turned back to me, destroying my bravado with five simple words.
“Or a woman, Miss Vaughn.”
Or a woman, indeed.
CHAPTEREIGHTRumors Abound
Ileft thePellarand all his unwelcome observations hovering over Sir Edward and headed back to the house more unsettled than when I’d first joined Mrs. Penrose in the orchard a handful of hours before. I needed to get to Tamsyn, to be the one to tell her about her husband’s fate—minus the crows. And flies. I’d spare her those little indignities of death. It was irrational the pull she still had over me—that had to be the reason for my staying. A reasonable woman would have walked away—said that Tamsyn had made her own bed and would need to deal with it herself—and yet I couldn’t do it. For some inexplicable reason I needed to protect her—hadto protect her.
Besides. I knew all too well how quickly idle rumors spark to conflagration. While Tamsyn was the mistress of Penryth Hall, she was still a woman living alone with a child and a husband dead under very bizarre circumstances. Oh, could the man not have choked on a fish bone? The very last thing she needed was whispers of a curse just when she’d freed herself of that dreadful man.
Freed herself.An odd turn of thought as Tamsyn was theless likely of the two of us to do the deed. Which brought me back to the rather unpleasant recollecting of my dream. I’d had ones like it before and yet this was different somehow. More visceral. More real. Which terrified me to no end. And when conflated with the ghostly figure I’d seen entering the copse, I began to wonder if I wasn’t going half mad myself.
I’d rounded the edge of the garden, pondering the merits of a hot bath and a strong drink to set my thoughts in order, when I heard voices nearby. A pair of them. I slowed my steps to silence my approach.
Two maids—a miracle that the place even had them, as I’d been entirely unaware of their existence up until this very moment. Though it should be no surprise, as Mrs. Penrose was certainly in no condition to keep the house as tidy as it was. A hint of tobacco smoke hit my nose.
“You heard what Mrs. Penrose said—it’s the curse!”
