Chapter 16

C HAPTER 16

Mrs. Green was late to breakfast the next morning, and came in heavy-eyed, moving more slowly than usual. Cordelia saw dark circles under her eyes and hastily surrendered the teapot to her.

Hester frowned, looking across the table. "Penelope, are you well?"

Mrs. Green laughed, but it was not quite up to her usual exuberance. "I fear I didn't sleep well last night. The storm kept me awake, that's all."

Lady Strauss and Hester exchanged puzzled looks, but it was the Squire who said, "Storm? Was clear as a bell all night, m'dear."

"What?" Penelope looked genuinely startled. "There was a terrible wind. It blew my balcony doors clear open and rattled the windows like anything."

More looks were exchanged. Lady Strauss said, cautiously, "Penelope, dear, we're on the same side of the house and there wasn't a breath of wind. I'd swear to it."

A sudden suspicion gripped Cordelia and she looked over at her mother. Evangeline was nibbling daintily at her toast with a small smile on her face.

She couldn't have done something, could she?

No, surely not. She twists up people's minds, she doesn't control the weather. This must be something else. Surely.

"No wind? None at all?" Penelope sat back in her chair, and then suddenly she laughed aloud, much more like her old self, and said, "Well! You've relieved my mind enormously, then. I must have been dreaming. And in that case, it was all a dream, and I'm not going out of my head." She grinned at the others around the table. "And now I shall be that terribly boring person and tell you about my dream, while you all secretly wish you were elsewhere. But I promise you that this was a regular whale of a dream."

"Do tell," said Lady Strauss, leaning forward. "I've always thought that you could tell so much about a person from their dreams."

"Well, if you find out all my secrets, please don't share them." Mrs. Green folded her hands. "In my dream, there was this terrible wind, you see, rattling the balcony doors. Such a wind! I almost thought I heard voices in it, and as you all know, I am not the sort of person who imagines such things. I've absolutely no nerves at all, I fear. Put me in a haunted house and I will sleep like a baby." She gave a self-deprecating shrug. "Still, this wind was something quite different. I kept listening, wondering if someone was outside, calling to be let in. It had that quality of speech to it, you know?"

Lady Strauss nodded. The Squire folded back the corner of his newspaper. "Lot of nonsense," he muttered.

"I don't know," said Lord Evermore mildly, "do you remember that blizzard that struck old Hollowell's hunting box? We were stuck for two days with the wind howling, and when it blew just right under the eaves, it sounded like a horse screaming. We slogged out to the stables three times checking on them."

"Mmm. Forgot about that." The Squire jerked his chin in agreement. "Fair enough."

"It was all a dream anyway," said Mrs. Green. "I wouldn't make any claims for winds that happen in other people's heads. I thought for a moment I heard—well, never mind. But at any rate, I got out of bed, and the balcony doors were rattling like anything. Then they flew open and banged so hard against the wall that I was afraid the glass would shatter. I went to close them—which now that I think of it was not sensible, since if they banged open again, they very well might break, but of course we're not always sensible in dreams, are we? But when I reached the balcony, the wind died down. I stepped outside, wondering if the storm was passing. But then…" She gave a little laugh. "Have you ever had the sense that someone was watching you? Because I had the strongest feeling of eyes on me."

"Something dangerous?" asked Lord Strauss.

"Oh, I shouldn't say that, no. It was more like being at an assembly, you know, and then you turn around and someone is glaring daggers at you from across the room." Penelope shook her head. "I would have gone back in at once, you know—I was in my night rail, and it would be a trifle scandalous if someone was watching me—but I looked over the balcony and do you know, I saw the oddest thing?"

She paused then, and looked around the group. Even the Squire had put down his newspaper and was listening raptly.

"What was it?" breathed Lady Strauss.

"A glow," said Mrs. Green. "Like foxfire. Some glowing shape just past the little line of trees. I couldn't see it all, just bits and pieces between the trunks. I watched it moving and I had the oddest feeling that it was watching me back."

"A person?" Hester asked.

"No, that's the oddest thing. It was much larger than that. The size of a horse or a cow, I'd say. And it kept moving back and forth, but it always kept the trees between us. Like it knew that I was there, and didn't want me to see it."

"What happened next?" asked Lady Strauss.

Mrs. Green spread her hands helplessly. "I went back to bed. Although apparently I never left it at all, since I dreamed the storm on top of everything else. And here I'd been thinking that the wind was real and half wondering if the glowing beast might be as well." She sat back. "Good thing that it was a dream, because think what a mooncalf I should sound like, insisting that I'd seen a great glowing creature stomping around the grounds!"

"I expect Samuel would set out to hunt it," said Hester dryly. "He's gone out on the strength of flimsier tales."

The Squire snorted from behind his newspaper. Mrs. Green laughed. "When they tell you to chase your dreams, I suspect they mean something else entirely. Though I do wish my dream had given me just a glimpse of whatever it was. A white stag, like in the old stories, do you think? A Questing Beast?"

"Perhaps it was a unicorn," said Master Strauss, who had been picking at his eggs and pretending he wasn't fascinated. "They're supposed to glow, aren't they?"

"I fear," said Penelope archly, "that it's been many years since a unicorn would gladly suffer my presence."

There was a half beat of silence and then everyone burst out laughing, except for Master Strauss, who turned beet red. Penelope leaned over and patted his hand, murmuring something that Cordelia couldn't hear, and he smiled at her, but his blush did not recede.

A glowing creature the size of a horse. A creature that watched her through the trees. Could it have been Falada?

No. It was a dream. She said it was a dream. Everyone else would have noticed if there was wind.

But she remembered suddenly the trip home from the church, her mother waving her hand, and the wind that came from nowhere, making the branches of the hedgerow bend down before her.

Cordelia's eyes flicked briefly to her mother. Evangeline's eyebrows had drawn down and she was no longer smiling.

"I hope you wanted to see me for more than gossip," said Hester, letting herself into Lady Strauss's suite the next evening. "Otherwise my knee will have words with you." The walk to the guest wing involved two flights of stairs, one up, one down, and she could tell by the ache that the barometer was dropping.

"Gossip, yes, but also brandy." Imogene lifted a bottle. "Danielle, love, will you leave word we're not to be disturbed? Hester and I are going to get blindingly drunk, I think."

"Are we?" Hester exchanged a wry look with Imogene's lady's maid. "Well, in that case, tell the housekeeper to have a footman or two on hand to help me back to my chambers, if you would."

Danielle shook her head. "I suppose there is no point trying to talk you out of it, madam?"

"Is there ever?" asked Hester. Lady Strauss made a rude noise. Danielle dropped a perfunctory curtsy and left, shutting the door behind her.

Hester dropped onto a chair and sighed with relief. As pleased as she was to see Richard, the effort of pretending not to be in pain around him could be exhausting. Not that he would think less of me, but it pains him to see it, and I would rather not be the object of pity.

And yet… and yet…

Last night, after dinner, they had both retired to one of the sitting rooms. She'd embroidered and Richard had read a book—some stultifyingly dull volume on novel irrigation methods. They hadn't spoken for more than an hour, just sat in their chairs, not too far from one another, in a silence so companionable that Hester wanted to drink it down like wine.

Imogene moved the tea tray closer and poured a spot of brandy into each cup. "I played cards with her."

"Oh? And?"

"And I think you'll have a sister-in-law by month's end, unless you do something drastic."

Hester's eyebrows shot up. "All that from a game of cards?"

"I know you don't think much of it, but you can tell more about a person in the way they play games than from hours of conversation. I threw the first few hands, just to see what would happen. She wasn't taking me seriously until she lost the next four or five, and then she became annoyed."

"And?"

"And she became polite. Very, very polite. If she could have politely cut my throat in the parlor, she'd have done it. There is a woman who does not wish to be crossed."

"Who won?"

"She did. She decided that she was going to win and I decided that I liked living." Imogene gestured with the flask. "But she was good, too. Didn't miss a single opening, didn't dither. Once she decided that it mattered, she was savage."

Hester groaned. "That's what I'm afraid of. She's decided that marrying my brother matters."

Lady Strauss set the flask down and stared at her hands. "Have you got any plans?"

"I've spoken to Richard. I'm hoping he'll be able to think of something."

"I still say that he might prove a more appealing target, if you're wanting to distract her from your brother."

"Perhaps," said Hester. "I also thought, perhaps, that Samuel might rekindle something with Penelope…" She trailed off.

Imogene looked at her teacup, looked at her flask, and then pushed the tea aside and simply swigged it.

"No?"

"If I were Penelope, I'd think twice. That is a great deal of ruthlessness to put oneself in the path of—"

Someone screamed.

It was a woman's scream, full-throated and bloodcurdling, a scream of agony or terror or both together. It rang out shockingly close, barely muffled by doors and walls.

"Dear god!" Hester shot to her feet, heedless of the pain in her knee. Imogene lunged for the door and flung it open before the echoes had even died away.

Two footmen pounded past. Doors opened all along the wing. Hester heard Richard's voice shout a question.

Another scream, scarcely softer than the last, ripped through the house.

Richard and the footmen flung themselves at a particular door. Hester hobbled toward them as the hallway filled with servants. "It's Penelope's room!"

"Mrs. Green!" Richard slammed his shoulder into the door. "Mrs. Green, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

The door refused to yield. Hester grabbed one of the maids. "Get the housekeeper! She's got the keys!"

"No time," said Richard grimly. He nodded to the footmen and all three put their shoulders to the door. "On three…"

The door was old oak, elegantly carved. It held. The latch did not. The door slammed against the wall with a boom that echoed through the house like cannonfire.

"What the devil…?" Samuel and Lord Strauss crested the stairs. "What's going on?"

Richard cursed softly, but with astonishing venom. Hester could not remember the last time she'd heard him swear like that. He stepped into the room and Hester heard him say, "Penelope, what's going on?"

"Out of my way," Hester told a footman. He tore his eyes away from the scene inside the room and blinked down at Hester.

"Ma'am—begging your pardon—this is no sight for a lady's eyes."

Not the sort of phrase you want to hear when your friend may be injured. Hester gritted her teeth, wedged her cane between the doorframe and the footman, and let him decide whether he wanted to use force to stop her.

He did not. She got her head around the edge of the frame and her mouth sagged open.

Penelope Green stood in the center of the room. She was holding a long knife and blood had spattered her dressing gown in lurid scarlet. Her eyes were huge and her mouth worked but no sound came out.

Hester's first wild thought was that Penelope had somehow nicked herself opening a letter.

Her second was that people did not bleed like that from nicks. Her eyes followed the line of blood down, to a heap of black and white cloth lying against the wall. Black and white, dyed dramatically red, with an outflung hand as white and waxy as a lily.

My god, it's her maid.

"Penelope," said Richard, in a very calm voice, "it's all right. Everything will be all right." He took a step forward, his hands held up in front of him. "I don't know what's wrong, but we can fix it."

"No," whispered a small voice. "No, no, no…"

Hester's gaze jerked sideways. Evangeline was huddled on the far side of Penelope and the maid, near the door to the balcony. Her gown did not appear bloodied, but her hair had fallen from its coiffure and hung over her face.

The door was open and a breeze from it sent Penelope's dressing gown shifting around her legs, where it was not slicked down with blood.

"Penelope," said Richard again. "If you just give me the knife, we'll sort this out." He took another step forward.

Penelope's throat worked. The knife blade shook in her hand. "Did…" she choked out. "Did… nnn…"

"I know," said Richard soothingly. "It will be all right. Just give me the knife."

"Hester, old girl," said her brother, practically in her ear, "what the devil is going on here?"

"She killed her!" screamed Evangeline, shockingly loud in the taut silence of the room. "She took a knife and killed her!"

Samuel swore and pushed past Hester. "Best let us handle this," he said over his shoulder, which Hester ignored completely.

"Everyone stay calm," said Richard. "Samuel, stay back, if you please."

"Dammit, Evermore—"

"Samuel."

Her brother subsided fretfully. Hester saw the spark of cold blue eyes between the dark curtains of Evangeline's hair, watching.

"Now, Penelope," Richard began, "I know this is all very upsetting, but if you just—"

Penelope's wide eyes grew even wider, darting from side to side. "Did… nnnnnn…" For a moment they caught Hester's, and she was struck by how much Penelope's gaze resembled Cordelia's, the same look of a beast in a trap, though Penelope's was all horrified rage and despair.

And then she turned and strode jerkily toward Evangeline, still holding the knife aloft.

"Penelope!"

"Evangeline!"

Time slowed to a crawl. Richard lunged for Penelope. Samuel lunged for Evangeline. The two men nearly collided, and as Hester watched, Penelope Green staggered past the other woman and out the balcony door. She leaned far back, like a drunk trying to keep her balance, but she kept moving forward, and suddenly Hester knew.

There was no world where she could reach her friend in time, but she tried anyway. It didn't matter that her knee tore itself to pieces. She stabbed her cane down into the carpet, trying to run, but it was too late.

Richard was closer, but even he was too late. His hand, reaching out, just brushed her hair.

Penelope Green, knife still in hand, threw herself over the balcony and was gone.