Page 18 of The Secret of the Three Fates
“Because I believe he either killed Ben or allowed him to die that night. That’s why.”
I stared at Ruan, struggling to make sense of his accusation. “That’s… absurd. He’s been nothing but the picture of kindness. He doesn’t seem like a murderer to me.”
“Andyouare the best judge of such things?” he shot back.
Ruan’s words stung.
He swore beneath his breath, and stepped forward, taking meby the arms. “Promise me, Ruby. You won’t go risking your life on this. First Ben… now this medium… and Andrew Lennox is sniffing about the estate? Something isn’t right about all of this. If Lucy had his tags when she died, perhaps it’s because whoever killed him wants that secret to stay buried too.”
I searched his face for answers. As if he were some oracle and not simply an exhausted Cornishman who’d arrived on the overnight train. “I just… I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
“I don’t either.” He reached up, touching the scar on my brow with two fingers. “At least not yet. But I’m not risking your life trying.”
My stomach jumped at his words—at his touch. This was terrible. Just terrible. I opened my mouth to say something witty. Clever even, when someone knocked at my door.
“Go on,” I whispered, tilting my head to the door connecting my room to Mr. Owen’s. “You can make sure he’s all right before you find your room.” The very last thing I needed was Ruan Kivell to be found in here with me. I had never been discreet regarding my bedfellows back in London, or in Exeter for that matter, and did not care a bit about what people thought of me for my own sake. I did, however, care a great deal for Mr. Owen’s good name, and as it turned out, Ruan’s too.
He nodded, recognizing the wisdom in my train of thought. I waited until he was safely behind the closed door before answering my own.
A young maid stood there, one I’d never seen before. She wasn’t dressed like the other Manhurst servants who wore a lovely shade of deep blue. Instead she was in old-fashioned black with a white cap, which meant she must have worked for one of the other guests. “Miss Vaughn?”
I nodded, arms folded tight across my chest. “Yes?”
The maid kept darting her eyes back to the hall. “I’ve comefrom my lady, miss. She asked that you come to the orangery to meet her. She says there isn’t much time.”
“When?” A second clandestine meeting in twenty-four hours. This did not bode well.
“Now, miss. She said her mother is being questioned, and she isn’t sure how long she has.”
I blew out a breath. Lady Amelia. It must be. Now this was a twist I’d not expected. I could hear the soft rhythm of voices coming from Mr. Owen’s room and I wondered how much Ruan was telling him of our discussion. I’d speak with them both later, but for now I grabbed my room key and set out to find out what the girl had to say that couldn’t wait.
CHAPTEREIGHTSecret Confessions
THEorangery was situated on the opposite side of the castle from the ruin, set across from an ornamental garden, presumably positioned to better catch the afternoon sun. Though what did one call an orangery that had no oranges? The structure now sat derelict with the surviving flora sheltered by what remained of the glass roof. Vines grew up one side and shrubby plants threatened to take over the remaining soil. Broken glass roof tiles allowed rain in to feed the neglected plants. It seemed Mr. Sharpe’s looted library could not fund the rehabilitation ofthispart of the estate.
I stepped inside, shoes crunching on the dead leaves that had gathered on the stone floor. “Hello?” I called into the silence, disturbing a handful of sparrows, sending them up to the glass roof before perching on the long-dead branches of a tree.
“Hello?” I called again, creeping past a broken statue of Venus.
“Miss Vaughn?”
I startled, banging my knee on the old iron bench beside me as I turned. Lady Amelia stepped out from a nearby alcove. The girl was dressed all in deep rose with red piping, her golden hairwaving stylishly beneath the smart hat she wore. Ruan was right. She did resemble a strawberry tart.
“I didn’t mean to surprise you. I didn’t want to be seen.” Her cheeks flushed a pale pink, clashing with her frock. I glanced around the orangery, wondering who exactly she thought might reveal her presence here.
“I think you’ve accomplished it. I cannot imagine anyone would come out here. This place looks like it’s about to fall in on the both of us.”
She let out a tinkling laugh, which she hid behind a gloved hand. “It’s for the best. My mother would never let me hear the end of it if she knew I’d actually sought you out.”
I placed my hands on my hips, curious about the girl. I’d assumed her a spineless thing, based on how she clung to her mother’s skirts inside the estate. But perhaps she had more backbone than I’d first assumed. “I’m not sure what you think I can do for you.”
She twisted the fingers of her gloves, taking a step closer to me. The scent of her floral perfume thick in the air. “Mother said that the medium killed herself.”
“I’m not sure why you think I’d know anything about it.”
The girl took another step closer. Close enough her skirt brushed against my trousers. I started to take a step back, but my heel struck the wall behind me. I was trapped there, against the stone beside an intricately carved waterspout. The scent of decaying plants and mold burnt my nostrils.
What was this girl after? I didn’tthinkshe meant me any harm, but this was quickly becoming one of the more peculiar encounters of my life. Lady Amelia’s expression shifted again and she flung her hands in exasperation and stepped back in a flurry of emotion. “I am sorry. I am going about this all wrong. Mother says I’m too much of a flibbertigibbet and need to be cautious in my speech but I do not know how to do this any other way.”
