Chapter Seventeen. A Necessary Sacrifice

C HAPTER S EVENTEEN

A Necessary Sacrifice

I left Ruan’s room and headed straight for the library, the one place in this castle where I might be able to clear my thoughts and make sense of what I knew without interruption. The halls were empty, which was just as well as I hadn’t the stomach to talk to anyone, and I slipped into the darkened room.

It’s never good when the old ones are afraid. That’s what he’d said. Well, it’s certainly not good when the Pellar is frightened either. I blew out a breath and made a circle of the library, running my fingers over the books, simply trying to regain my footing. A great deal had happened in only a handful of days. Ghosts of my own past and Mr. Owen’s were threatening to strangle us both. Hari’s note gave credence to my suspicions that Matthew Sharpe was indeed Elijah Keene. I’d have to write Hari and ask him to continue to investigate, however I couldn’t do such a thing without raising suspicion. Once Ruan had gotten beyond whatever unpleasant emotions were currently plaguing him, he’d need to see to the task. This was precisely why I avoided feelings. They got in the way of more pressing matters.

I paused before the shelf bearing all five million copies of Debrett’s. Oh fine, there weren’t that many, but there might as well have been.

A duke, a countess, and a viscount. Surely it was unusual to have this many peers at a séance, even if Mr. Owen was pretending not to be one when we arrived.

Perhaps that was the link I’d missed?

I pulled out the current volume of the paean of the privileged from the shelf and flipped through, not certain what I was looking for but paused as I came across the page for Mr. Owen. Or rather, the page that ought to have been for him. It had been torn out of the book entirely.

Dread climbed up my spine as I laid that one down on the table behind me and grabbed another. I went back through the years, grabbing an edition from the time before Mariah disappeared, and pulled it from the shelf. The exact same thing had happened. There was nothing there. The page—excised from the book. Volume after volume, I searched, fingers flying through the pages, however, each one had the entry for the Viscount of Hawick carefully removed. After going through a dozen different editions I blew out my breath and leaned against the table, the desecrated books stacked high behind me.

“What are you doing?” Lady Amelia asked.

I jumped, whacking my knee on the leg of the table, swearing beneath my breath. The girl had crept in quietly. I hadn’t heard her at all.

“Looking for something,” I muttered, rubbing at the sore spot on my leg.

She wrinkled her nose, looking from the books to me. “Did you… find it?”

I shook my head, not sure what to make of the curious girl who had just moments before been looking for Ruan. She seemed innocent enough, but he was correct in his assessment of her wardrobe. Today she wore a pale pink frock with white piping down the front and sleeves. Definitely a strawberry scone.

“Mama was looking at this one too…” she said absently, picking up the most recent copy of Debrett’s and turning it over in her hand. “She is not herself, Miss Vaughn. I am worried for her. It is growing worse—her moods.”

“What do you mean?”

Lady Amelia sighed dramatically and flopped into a leather chair, her feet swinging freely. “Just this morning she yelled at me. She yelled! No… Mother would never yell…” Lady Amelia made a face before changing her voice to mimic her mother. “‘Proper ladies do not screech, they call, Amelia.’”

The girl’s animation made me smile. She was refreshingly full of life, a far sight from how I’d felt after the day’s revelations—and it wasn’t yet noon. “You said she’d been behaving strangely before you came too… changed your plans. Has anything else peculiar happened—besides her temper? Have you learned any more about why she insisted you come?”

She shook her head. “No. But I did learn that the duchess is the most boring woman I’ve ever met in my life. I’d not been introduced to her before, but she and my mother have taken tea at least three times since arriving. Mother doesn’t even take tea three times in a week with me and I live with her. If the duchess’s son wasn’t only six years old I’d be convinced Mama was angling for an advantageous match.” She shrugged, fiddling with one of the flimsy layers of her pink skirt. “I truly thought she’d intended to dangle me at Captain Lennox—even though he is dreadfully old.”

The girl continued on, completely unaware of my raised eyebrow. “Besides, even if she did intend to, he’s not at all interested in me. But I know who he is interested in.” She waggled her eyebrows comically.

There was something charmingly refreshing about Lady Amelia—even if she did think I was nearing my dotage at all of twenty-nine years of age. Besides, her innocent chatter was a welcome reprieve from the problems at hand. Between ferreting out a killer, worrying over Mr. Owen, and sorting out Ruan’s newfound feelings, I could spare five minutes to humor a sixteen-year-old girl’s fancies. “Tell me.”

She looked to the door, then back to me with a conspiratorial smile. “Why, the medium.”

Suddenly, all my mirth fled as I tucked a loose curl behind my ear, stepping closer to the girl. “What… what do you mean the medium ?”

“The Russian one. She’s ever so pretty. I suppose I couldn’t blame him, besides, she’s as ancient as he is!”

My stomach knotted. “Why do you think he’s interested in her?” Surely this was a girlish misunderstanding. Yes. That was all it was.

“I saw him outside her room—and there’s no reason for a respectable gentleman to be in a lady’s private room. None! And I’ve seen him follow after her on at least two other occasions.” She looked proud enough I might have wept. Not because of her assumption, but for the nagging fear that I had misjudged Andrew Lennox.

I weighed the options, none of them good. If Andrew was connected to the mediums, could he have been the one to bring Mr. Owen to Manhurst in the first place? Could Ruan’s apprehensions about the man be true? My knees grew weak and I braced myself on the table.

“Miss Vaughn?” the girl snapped, drawing my attention back to her. I shook my head, focusing on her puzzled face. “You just disappeared for a moment. Did you hear what I said? I said I think they are having an affair!”

I nodded numbly, then shook my head. “You mustn’t speak of this to anyone else, do you hear me?”

She wrinkled her brow. “I don’t intend to tell anyone. Besides, I’m not supposed to be speaking to you at all. Mother said to keep away from you, that you and Lord Hawick were corrupting influences on young girls. She’d never even let me out of our rooms if she knew we were alone in here.”

“Most mothers agree with that notion,” I murmured, still struggling to wrap my mind around the prospect of Mr. Owen’s nephew being a murderer. “Tell me, does your mother say much else of Lord Hawick?”

“Only that he’s dangerous and she cannot wait until Captain Lennox inherits the title to bring some respectability back to the name.”

My mind reeled as the girl prattled on, oblivious to my increasing discomfort. I shifted, digging my fingernails into my palms.

“Rumor says he killed his wife. Mama said that’s why the spirit was angry at the séance. No one has even seen him in years—then for him to show up like that. But it’s strange though…” She tapped her lower lip with her finger.

“What is?” I managed to ask.

“If he’d been hiding away for that long and not claiming the title, then why would someone go to the effort to remove all mention of him from Debrett’s?” She wrinkled her nose at the stack of books on the table beside me. “I assume that’s why you’ve pulled every one out. You noticed it too, didn’t you?”

I nodded slowly. The girl wasn’t quite as flighty as her mother seemed to believe.

“It was only after I asked Mama who he was and she behaved strangely that I decided to find out more about him.”

“You’re a very clever girl.”

She huffed out a breath, her feet swinging, making her appear younger. “Much good it will do me. We’re leaving soon and headed to my grandfather’s for the hunting party. I’m certain Mother will have a match planned before Christmas. I suppose I should be happy, but I’ve rather enjoyed exploring this place. It’s far more interesting than I expected it to be.”

I furrowed my brow. “But we’re forbidden to leave here until they’ve found the killer.”

Lady Amelia’s expression fell and she gave me a pitying look. “Haven’t you heard, Miss Vaughn?”

“Heard what?” I leaned back against the table, awaiting whatever new horror Lady Amelia was about to reveal.

“They’ve arrested Lord Hawick. He’s confessed to the murder of Lucy Campbell.”