CHAPTER ELEVEN

I spend another hour with Clara making small talk about other gossip in town. She asks a lot of questions about me, which I deflect as much as possible. The last thing I need is for her to spread rumors that could jeopardize my position here.

Eventually, I decide enough time has passed for me to leave politely, so I bid her adieu and walk home. I head straight to my room and pull out Lila Benson's chest and suitcase, then go through everything again.

I rifle through the pockets of her clothing and check the lining of every pouch in her suitcase, looking for more hidden notes like the one I find under my dresser. I leaf through every lesson book in the chest in case another note is tucked within the pages of those books. When I find nothing, I begin to skim through the books, looking for Lila's handwriting. Perhaps she's written something in a margin that can be useful.

I find her handwriting frequently, of course, but nothing that seems out of the ordinary, nothing, in fact, other than notes on Annabelle's schoolwork. Were it not for the note I find under my dresser and the letter I find in her suitcase, I would think her a perfectly normal governess.

But there is a note, there is a letter, and she did disappear, seemingly without a trace. She was investigating something, and she, like me, suspected Elizabeth and Violet of being at the center of it.

But what was it? I can't believe that the only records of Lila's suspicion would fail to mention what that suspicion was. There must be something among these belongings that will help me understand what Lila thought she saw.

There's a knock on my door, and I jump, tossing a lesson book over my shoulder. I sigh and press my hands to my temples. I don't think anyone's knocked on that door without frightening me half to death. I get to my feet and force the irritability away before answering the door.

Christopher stands in front of me. He wears a dark blue long sleeve button down above olive green khakis and brown Oxford loafers. It strikes me as a somewhat odd combination, but he wears it well.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

He smiles slightly at me, and I notice that his eyes are just as blue and piercing as his father's. "I thought I'd invite you to join me for a stroll through the Glens. You keep to yourself a lot. I don't want you to feel unwelcome here."

"Oh, it's quite all right," I say. "I mean, I've been socializing with others. It's just that you've been busy. I mean… I'm sorry. I'm afraid you've caught me a little out of sorts."

His smile widens and takes on an arrogant slant that suggests he's used to having this effect on women. Well, if he thinks that's the reason I'm out of sorts, he's greatly mistaken. But I'd rather he thinks that's the reason for my discomfiture than suspect—

"What is all of that?"

I realize that he's frowning and looking over my shoulder at the mess. I close the door halfway and say defensively, "I'm going through some things. Don't worry, I'll tidy it up when I'm done."

"Are those Lila's belongings?"

This is exactly what I don't want him to suspect. I think of denying him, but the frown on his face tells me he knows the answer to his question already. Lying will only make things worse."

"Yes," I reply. "I was looking through her lesson plans for some ideas for the children. I'm afraid I'm drawing a bit of a blank with the older ones."

Christopher calls my bluff. "The oldest child here is eight years old. What could you possibly hope to learn from Lila Benson's high school lessons that could help you with grade school children?"

I am at a loss for words. "I… I… well, I wasn't…"

He narrows his eyes slightly. "Mary, snooping isn't a good look for you. What if there's sensitive information in those books?"

That's exactly what I hoped to find , I don't say. Instead, I say, "I… I'm sorry. I figured that since it had been so long, there'd be no harm in looking."

"For what?"

"For…" Damn it, Mary, think! "For… recipes."

He lifts an eyebrow. "Recipes?"

"Yes. I thought that it might be nice to surprise the children with a homemade pie or cake, but I'm afraid I'm a mediocre baker. I thought that Lila might have notes somewhere. I know plenty of women who carry family recipes with them among their belongings. I thought I might find something among Lila's."

I can't blame Christopher for not believing me. I don't really believe myself. Recipes? Really Mary?

"I'll talk to Chef Bronstein about giving you some pointers. In the meantime, it's really bad form to comb through someone else's things. Why don't you pack the chest and suitcase up and leave them outside of your room? I'll have Wharton dispose of them tomorrow."

"Of course, sir. I apologize for intruding."

"You don't need to apologize to me," he said. "Or to Liza, I suppose. Still, I think you should know better than to snoop through another person's things, don't you?"

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Quite right. I'm sorry, Christopher."

His amused smile returns. "Well, I'll leave you to clean up. I suppose our walk will have to wait."

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry again."

"No need to apologize," he says, amused now rather than angry. "Just remember what curiosity did to a certain cat."

He leaves me to ponder the meaning behind his warning. Curiosity, of course, killed the cat, but what does he expect me to find in Lila Benson's belongings that could endanger me? Could he know what actually happened to Lila? He would have been at Harvard at the time, but if it happened on holiday, he might have been at the estate.

I play his words back in my head and gasp when I realize he mentions a suitcase and a chest. The suitcase and chest are inside the walk-in closet, out of view from the front door. Yet he knew that her belongings consisted of those two containers.

That raises a whole host of questions. If he knew that Lila left behind a chest and a suitcase, then why did he leave them in my room? Why did the family place me into Lila's old room? Perhaps Elizabeth wasn't aware of the leftover belongings, but it seems that Christopher did. Yet he says nothing about the leftover possessions until now. Did he expect me to simply ignore them? He might have expected that I would tell someone about them and have them removed, but it's been two weeks, and I haven't done so.

Maybe that's why he came to the room. Maybe he wondered why he hadn't heard anything about Lila's belongings, and he came to see if they were still in the room. He made up a story about wanting to walk with me, but as soon as he discovered that the suitcase and chest—along with their contents—was still in my room, he abandoned the walk.

Could Christopher have something to do with Lila's disappearance?

All at once, I'm glad I didn't end up alone in the Glens with him. I shiver and go back through Lila's belongings as I pack the suitcase and chest again.

I'm almost desperate. I'm convinced that I'm missing something, that something in those possessions has an answer to the mystery surrounding this family. This is my last chance to find something before it's all taken from me. I dare not take any of the belongings from the containers for fear Christopher is familiar with the contents and will know if something is missing.

I'm about to give into my despair when I come across Christopher's lesson book, the only one among the many lesson books in the chest. In a last-ditch effort to learn something of value, I skim through the pages of that book.

I find something on the rear dust cover of the book. A note, handwritten by Lila says, He may know too. Perhaps he's protecting his mother. How far will he go? How far will they both go?

This phrase raises many questions of its own, but it does give me one crucial answer. Christopher is embroiled in the same mystery as Elizabeth, the mystery that intrigued Lila Benson so and possibly led to her demise.

I can't help but grin as I take a picture of the note with my cell phone, then replace the lesson book into the chest.

Christopher may be right that curiosity killed the cat, but he has forgotten that satisfaction brought her back.

I take the suitcase and chest outside, leaving both just outside my door. I think I will poke my head outside and see if it's Wharton who comes for them or if Christopher returns to finish the job he started.