The Lightkeeper's Ball (12 page)

He bowed. “I’ll leave you now until this afternoon.” His long legs quickly carried him away.

“He knows something, miss,” Goldia said. “That one is too smart for his own good.”

Olivia waved away the concern. “I’m more interested in finding out what his mother knows about Eleanor’s death.”

“I’m sure we shall find Mother in the parlor,” Harrison said as he led Lady Devonworth down the hall. Had he ever been so aware of a woman’s presence before? The slightest movement of her hand on his arm made him uncomfortable. “I am most grateful you agreed to my mother’s request. She doesn’t have many friends.”

“Because of being crippled?” she asked. She paused to take in the portraits of his ancestors in the foyer.

He nodded. “It’s difficult for her to meet for lunch or tea, and the sidewalks are not always easy for her attendant to navigate with the wheelchair.”

She turned back toward him. “You are her only child?”

“I had a younger brother who fell from a tree when he was ten. He died of a broken neck.”

“I’m so sorry.”

The odd thing was she seemed to mean it. Her husky voice was soft, and the dark eyes she turned on him were liquid with warmth. There was so much about her that he didn’t understand. Her presence in the graveyard raised so many questions. Her reddened eyes and obvious distress were out of place. She herself had said the Stewarts were friends, not relatives, so why such obvious grief? And every time he tried to dig into her background, she turned the conversation away from herself.

Piano music tinkled out from the parlor. “Your mother?” Lady Devonworth asked.

He nodded. “She’s very accomplished.”

He led her to the parlor, where he found his mother seated at the grand piano. Her fingers danced over the keys in Liszt’s “Dante Symphony,” and her eyes were dreamy. She wore her hair up and even had a hint of rouge on her face.

His mother stopped playing when she saw them in the door. A smile brightened her eyes. “Hello! I lost track of time, my dear.”

The dog rose when he saw them. Lady Devonworth flinched, and he ordered the dog to lie down. “He won’t hurt you,” he said. “Collies are great dogs.”

“It was a collie that bit me.”

“That’s quite unusual. Were you teasing it?”

She frowned. “I don’t remember. I was a child. But it should have been trained not to attack.”

“True enough,” he said.

“Give me a moment to get settled on the sofa,” his mother said.

“Of course.” Harrison raised a brow in Lady Devonworth’s direction, then led her back to the hall. “She doesn’t like others to see her struggle,” he said. “Shall I show you around the house until her attendant helps her to the sofa?”

“I should like to see it.”

With her fingers on his forearm, he felt tongue-tied and awkward, but he escorted her toward the morning room. The house was so large and grand, he often felt lost in it, but Lady Devonworth would be quite at home with its silk-covered walls and plush carpets.

“Did your mother get along with Eleanor?” Lady Devonworth asked.

Her preoccupation with Eleanor truly annoyed him. “This is where Mother does her morning correspondence,” he said, indicating the white desk by the window. Her questions were entirely inappropriate. A lady of her caliber should have realized by now that her persistent questions were the definition of rudeness.

“It’s quite lovely,” she said, glancing around the blue room.

Mary Grace appeared behind them. “Mrs. Bennett is ready to receive you,” the nurse said.

At least he didn’t have to hear any more of Lady Devonworth’s questions. He escorted her back to the parlor. His mother was pouring out the tea. Blueberry scones were arranged on a silver tray. “Mother, this is Lady Devonworth. Lady Devonworth, I’d like you to meet my mother, Mrs. Esther Bennett.”

“I’ve been longing to meet you, Lady Devonworth,” his mother said. “Come sit beside me and tell me all about yourself.”

He suppressed a smile. This had been a grand idea. His mother could pry the slightest secret from the most reticent person. Once Lady Devonworth was seated beside his mother, he dropped into the leather chair by the fireplace and settled back to watch his mother do her magic.

Wariness flickered in Lady Devonworth’s eyes as she sipped her tea and studied the older woman. “You have a lovely home, Mrs. Bennett.”

“I’m sure you’re used to much grander surroundings,” his mother said. “My son tells me you are a longtime friend of the Stewarts. What does your father do, my dear?”

Lady Devonworth took a sip of tea. Harrison was sure it was a delay to gather her thoughts. And he was certain her cheeks paled. His tense muscles relaxed. Watching this unfold would provide much entertainment. He’d been no match for the lady’s questioning, but his mother was a master.

“Might I have a scone?” Lady Devonworth asked.

“Of course.” His mother lifted the silver tray to the young woman, then put it back on the table after Lady Devonworth had selected a pastry. “About your father?”

Harrison’s lips twitched. His mother was not about to let the young woman slip out of the net.

“Business is so boring, don’t you think? My father has often spoken of his various interests, but it goes right over my head.” She laughed daintily. “I’d much rather talk about this charming town. I quite adore Mercy Falls already. I’m sure Eleanor Stewart loved it the moment she saw it. I’m surprised she didn’t stay here with you, though. To help you in any way she could.”

Spots of color appeared on his mother’s cheeks at the implied condemnation. “Of course I invited her! But the girl loved parties and wanted to plan several luncheons and evening soirees. It was too much for a lady in my condition. We both agreed it was best for her to have her own space.”

Harrison gaped, then shut his mouth. Lady Devonworth had slipped through the snare with no effort.

“Oh, Eleanor loved parties. I can see how such merriment day and night would be quite wearing for you,” Lady Devonworth said. “She was quite the chatterbox.”

“The girl talked incessantly,” his mother said. “In quite an entertaining way, of course,” she added hastily.

“Of course. Eleanor was a most charming girl,” the younger woman said.

Harrison had no idea that his mother hadn’t liked Eleanor. He stared at Lady Devonworth and saw the frown crouching between her eyes. The silence was beginning to be awkward.

Lady Devonworth sipped her tea. “Do you know Frederick Fosberg?” she asked him.

“The attorney from the city who owns a house up the mountain?”

“Yes, the attorney,” she said.

He shook his head. “Not personally. How did you hear of him?”

She nibbled on her scone. A delaying tactic, of course. She was quick to ask questions but less apt to answer them. “I may need his services, and I wondered if you would recommend him.”

“I’ve met Fred a few times,” his mother said. “He has done some business with your father on occasion, Harrison. A fine young man. In fact, he’s due to come to town in a few days. If you’d like to meet him, Lady Devonworth, he’ll be our dinner guest on Friday night. Do come.”

“I’d be delighted,” she said quickly.

“My husband thinks the world of him. He’s a hit with the ladies in town. A most eligible bachelor.”

Lady Devonworth smiled. “I’m only interested in his business acumen.”

Harrison resolved to find out what he could about this Fosberg. The lady had a purpose in her questions.

E
LEVEN

O
LIVIA HAD LIKED
Harrison’s mother, but the stress of navigating dangerous questions had drained her. She rubbed her aching head. She’d been prowling the second floor since the servants retired for the night. She should seek some rest herself, but she needed to find the letter. Eleanor was a pack rat, and Olivia knew she wouldn’t have destroyed it. It had to be in this house somewhere.

She glanced around the last bedroom on this floor. Goldia had made subtle inquiries of the other servants, and this room had never been occupied. It was at the end of the hall. The hissing gaslight cast a yellow glow over the burgundy wallpaper. She’d poked through the empty closet and pulled out every drawer in the dresser but found nothing.

“Olivia.”

She flinched and her head came up. The whispered voice came from nowhere. She strained to see through the shadows in the room. “Who’s there?” The man had called her by name, a name she’d taken great care to conceal.

“It’s me, Olivia.”

Her heart leaped against her ribs. Her throat went tight. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, almost like her father. Was it a ghost? She backed toward the door. She needed to get to safety. She grasped the doorknob and yanked on it. The door refused to open. She tugged on it again, the muscles in her throat still blocking any sound.

“Olivia,” the voice whispered again. Something clanged.

It was no ghost. That’s when she realized whoever it was had to be using the mansion’s speaking tube. She yanked on the door again, but it refused to budge. Had he locked her in? She knelt on the redwood floor and peered through the keyhole. No light. Something blocked it from the other side. Her breath came fast. Could someone be hanging on to the doorknob, laughing at her puny efforts to escape?

The mental image washed away her fear and released the tightness of her throat. She pounded on the door. “Let me out!” She twisted the knob again but the door held fast. The window. She rushed to the window and threw up the sash. Salt air tugged loose strands of her hair.

Leaning out the window, she searched the dark yard below her. There was nothing to enable her to climb down from this height. She would find no purchase on the smooth stone of the facade. When she pulled her head back inside and went back to the door, she thought she heard a slight click. She twisted the knob again, and this time it turned easily. Her initial impulse was to yank the door open, but what if the man waited on the other side?

She snatched her hand back and stared at the closed door. She couldn’t stay here all night. Forcing herself to turn the knob again and pull, she peeked into the shadowed hall. Empty. She twisted the knob to extinguish the lamp, then rushed down the deserted hall toward her bedroom. The hallway was better lit here, and the tightness in her chest eased as the shadows fled. Outside her door, she paused. What if he was waiting inside? She needed assistance.

The servants were already abed, but there was a speaking tube in all the bedrooms. She could summon Jerry or one of the other footmen. Will was nearby also. She could call for him, but the thought of rousing the entire family deterred her. She went past her door to Eleanor’s bedroom. She felt along the dark wall.
The knob for the lights should be here somewhere
. Her fingers encountered the round switch and she twisted it. Light illuminated the room. It was empty. She went to the speaking tube by the bed.

“Thora, we have an intruder in the house. Please send Jerry or one of the men to my room immediately.” She didn’t like the way her voice shook.

There was silence, then her housekeeper’s sleepy voice answered her. “Right away, Lady Devonworth.”

Olivia went back to the hall and waited under the wash of light. She was safer out of the shadows. Moments later footsteps pounded down the steps from the third floor.