by Blythe Baker
Lady Wilson glared at him. “And this is the way that you choose to tell me?” she asked. “Why is this the first I am hearing of it? All this time you have done nothing but dismiss me, make me feel as if I might be losing my mind – ”
“I thought at first that might have been the case,” Lord Wilson said. “I thought the experience you had down at the inn, being trapped there for days on end…that blasted constable refusing to allow you to leave…” He muttered under his breath.
I frowned at him. He will take any opportunity to express his dislike of the Constable, won’t he?
“And then all the terrible business with Mr. Shaw and finding that someone here on the estate was the one to take his life…” Lord Wilson continued. “I knew it deeply unsettled you. I knew that it would be difficult for you to move past the fear that you had felt.”
Lady Wilson’s hard face softened ever so slightly and the sorrow she had been hiding began to bleed through the cracks in her anger.
“Not once, but twice did you have to look death in the face. It was no wonder that you were experiencing these sleepless nights, these moments of upset digestion. I had hoped that with time these would fade away and you would have peace once more,” Lord Wilson said.
“That is as I had hoped, as well,” Lady Wilson said in a small voice.
“But the troubles only seemed to grow worse as the days passed,” he went on. “Suddenly, the fear became present. I could not understand it. The events you had experienced were firmly settled in the past. There was no danger now. You were safe. I had done my very best to ensure it. And yet…”
He sighed, shaking his head.
I stole a glance at Nash. His face betrayed his worry. His brows had knit together in a puzzled line and his eyes remained fixed on his uncle.
It’s almost as if he is seeing his uncle as a stranger. He looks terribly unhappy about this whole matter…
Lord Wilson folded his hands in front of himself. “The worry began to eat at me. Doctor Webb insisted that you were in fine health, apart from your poor sleeping. Yet you seemed to be getting worse. You appeared utterly convinced that something terrible was going to happen, no matter what I said or did. And so, I sought out the best I could find, someone who could help you put this fear behind you. I wish for Mr. Carter to thoroughly examine our home to determine whether any true danger lurks here and, if so, put an end to it.”
Lady Wilson’s frustration returned. “You still do not believe me?” she asked. “You went so far as to hire an expert who would be able to tell me that my fears are unfounded?”
“No,” Lord Wilson said. “That is, yes – my dear, you are not listening to what I am saying. I have hired this man to assuage your fears. If there are dangers, then he will find them. He will find the source of them and make sure we are able to be rid of them, whatever they are.”
Mr. Carter chose that moment to clear his throat and rise to his feet. “Yes, my Lady. As Lord Wilson has explained, he has hired me to come and help search for whatever it is that is ailing you. I have extensive experience in espionage, conspiracy, and murder investigations. I would certainly not go so far as to say any of those are what we are up against but I will certainly say that I believe you have been frightened by something. I will do my best to help you discover what might be causing it.”
Lady Wilson’s eyes narrowed. “You make it seem as if I have grown frightened of a spider. Or a wolf hiding in the forest.”
Mr. Carter gave her a warm grin. “Not at all, my Lady. I believe the opposite, in fact. I wish to dive in with every intention of finding the very worst of your fears. It is my hope, however, that we can all walk away from this matter without any sort of trouble, that it is nothing more than a misunderstanding we must resolve. My whole and complete desire is for you to find the peace you so desperately want.”
Lady Wilson’s face turned pink and she shifted uncomfortably. “Well…” she said. “Very well. I suppose I can understand that.”
“You see, my dear? All I want is for you to be well,” Lord Wilson said. “That – that constable – that good for nothing – ”
“George,” Lady Wilson said in warning.
He inhaled sharply and gathered himself. “The local constable is unable to do anything of worth. He takes forever to solve these matters and has resorted to finding outside help – ” Lord Wilson looked sidelong at me, quite pointedly. “I truly thought that he would never find who killed Mr. Shaw. I actually sent a letter to Mr. Carter at that time, asking to meet him. By the time I met him and was ready to hire him, the constable had solved the case, and so Mr. Carter’s services were no longer needed. But when you began to develop all these fears, I knew that it was time for him to step in.”
Lady Wilson frowned.
“Did you bring any of this to Constable Brown’s attention?” Nash asked.
Lord Wilson glowered at his nephew. “I would not trust him with my wife’s health. Not when he might very well be the root of all the troubles that she is experiencing as of now!”
Nash did not appear convinced. He looked across the table and gave me an apologetic look.
I gave him an understanding smile. Truly, it did not bother me that Lord Wilson thought so little of my help in the matters I had assisted the constable in investigating. We had helped Constable Brown solve several cases. Lily had even been the one to discern who it was that ended up taking Mr. Shaw’s life. We did not need Lord Wilson’s approval to know that our help had been invaluable.
“So what is it that you mean to do, Mr. Carter?” Lady Wilson asked. “Follow me around, day in and day out? Do you intend on staying beside my bed at night to protect me from whatever it is that might strike?”
“Not at all, my Lady,” Mr. Carter said. “My hope is that I can follow the trail of the clues that are evident to you, and that by doing so, I may locate the source of your troubles.”
Lady Wilson’s eyebrows arched high but the smug smile on her face did little to hide the fact that she was pleased with this news.
Finally, some relief, she must be thinking. She may appear skeptical but she is as desperate as Lord Wilson is to do away with these matters.
“I was impressed by Mr. Carter’s history,” Lord Wilson said. “That and his character. He cares about people and his desire to help them is evident in his every action.”
“Indeed, my Lord,” Mr. Carter said.
My eyes narrowed. Investigating other people’s secrets and crimes seems an odd profession to choose. How did he choose it in particular? Did he experience something in his life personally that made him seek out this sort of work?
His smile, warm and genuine, made me wonder. Perhaps there was more to this Mr. Carter than met the eye. I would be wary of him.
“Well…” Lady Wilson said in a soft voice, playing with the end of her sleeve. “I do hope that you will be able to help me. I appreciate your listening to my husband and being willing to come here.”
“I knew that you would come around, my love,” Lord Wilson said, a smile finally appearing on his tired, flushed face.
Lady Wilson, too, smiled in spite of herself.
“Well, I think this is good news,” Nash said. “Perhaps you will be able to find that peace you were so in need of, Aunt.”
“Perhaps I will, my boy,” Lady Wilson said.
“Wonderful,” Lord Wilson said. “We should enjoy our dinner now before it grows too cold.”
The second courses were delivered after Lord Wilson had the servants bring them to the table. He seemed a great deal more jovial now that his wife had accepted his solution to their problems. She, too, seemed more at peace. Soon, she would be able to rest once more. At least, it was clear that was what she hoped for.
Nash seemed less tense, as well. He sat back in his seat and gave me an encouraging smile across the table.
I wish I could hear his thoughts, though I imagine he would not freely give them to me. Not in front of his aunt and uncle…
&n
bsp; “Now, if you would not mind, my Lady, I should like to ask you some questions,” Mr. Carter said after we had enjoyed the second course and the third was to be delivered to us. “If that is agreeable to you?”
“Why, yes, it is,” Lady Wilson said. “I suppose the sooner we begin, the better off I shall be. Ask whatever you deem necessary.”
Mr. Carter set down his cutlery and reached into the front pocket of his coat.
Withdrawing a piece of folded paper, he flipped it open and set it down on the table beside his plate. “Lord Wilson has informed me of your physical ailments and said that you have been worried about someone trying to harm you,” he said. “Has anyone outright attempted to injure you in any way?”
“Good heavens, no,” Lady Wilson said.
“Has anyone said anything that might cause you to think they would wish harm to befall you?” Mr. Carter asked.
“No, not at all,” Lady Wilson said. “This is why this is so troubling to me.”
Mr. Carter nodded his head. “I see,” he said, his eyes passing over the paper.
“I do believe that someone is terribly upset with me, Mr. Carter,” Lady Wilson said. “I just…I cannot seem to prove it.”
Mr. Carter looked up at Lady Wilson and smiled. “I understand. And I believe you. I truly do. The fear that you are experiencing…it comes from somewhere. And we shall find its source. That much I promise you.”
I could see why Lord Wilson had been impressed by this man. Even I found myself astonished at his careful approach to the matter. Constable Brown would often brute force his way through a situation, asking only what he needed to, making it clear that his intentions were to solve cases, not to make friends with those he worked with.
Who is this Mr. Carter? Really?
I could not help it. Experience in these investigations told me to be suspicious of everyone, to some capacity. And I heard Constable Brown’s advice somewhere in my mind, telling me to look for the truth, for the truth was always a great deal easier to find than a lie. The truth would make itself known.
“When did you first start to feel this danger?” Mr. Carter asked.
Lady Wilson frowned, looking down at the plate of pheasant and greens that had been set before her. “To be perfectly honest, I have felt something strange looming over me since I found myself trapped in the inn with all the other guests, Nash and Miss Dickinson included, following the death of…oh, I cannot remember the man’s name.”
“Mr. Ingram, dear aunt,” Nash said.
“Oh, yes,” Lady Wilson said. “And then, so soon after, we were told that our gamekeeper had been murdered right in his own home.” She shuddered, her eyes falling closed. “I found it difficult to sleep for many nights after that, even after the murderer had been discovered.”
“Have those feelings lingered since his death?” Mr. Carter asked.
“Well, yes,” Lady Wilson said. “But…it’s as if the darkness that had fallen over our estate has never left. For some time, I worried that it might have been Mr. Shaw’s spirit come back to torment us…I would pass through the halls and a chill would come over me. Soon after, I became too frightened to traverse the corridors in the dark.”
“Why is that?” Mr. Carter asked.
“It always felt as if someone was watching me,” Lady Wilson said.
“Well, I suppose that is only natural,” Mr. Carter said. “You have a great many servants that are watching out for you. Is it possible that you have simply become more aware of their presence, now that one of them was killed such a short time ago and in such an unexpected way?”
Lady Wilson frowned. “I suppose that is possible but…no, that is not what troubles me.” She shook her head. “I cannot explain it, Mr. Carter. I do not feel safe within my own home. And this fear has driven me to lose sleep and to therefore lose my appetite, which has caused many days of nausea that only seems to grow worse. Then as my digestion worsens, it causes my fear to grow and the cycle continues on and on…”
Mr. Carter nodded. “This darkness you speak of,” he said. “Can you describe it to me?”
Lady Wilson frowned, looking down at her hands knotted in her lap. “Well…” she said. “This house…the manor, the estate…every inch of it. At one time, it felt so warm and inviting to me. That was one of the reasons why I had been so intent upon moving out here in the first place.”
She looked across the table at her husband, her expression sad and joyous at the same time.
“It was precisely what we had been looking for. My dear husband needed to live somewhere with a slow pace. We found ourselves quite troubled by the drastic change in occupants where we lived last. Our friends had moved away, either to London or Bath, or had chosen to retire to their country homes…”
“We decided it was time to move on, ourselves,” Lord Wilson said. “High time, in fact. When we heard that Billborough Hall, lovingly coined Grangehurst Estate by the local townsfolk, had been vacant for some time, we knew it might very well be the perfect choice for us.”
“I pointed them in this direction,” Nash said. “As I had so recently moved to Grangehurst myself and knew they had been searching for a new residence.”
Mr. Carter nodded. “I take it that you were pleased with the place upon seeing it?”
“Oh, yes,” Lady Wilson said emphatically. “Enamored, fully. I found myself drawn to these high ceilings, these long halls, and the breathtaking views from each and every window. I wished to move in at once.”
Mr. Carter nodded. “And something has since changed? Your love of the home has shifted to fear?”
Lady Wilson’s face drained of color. “Y – Yes,” she said. “I cannot explain it. It is almost as if I am a stranger to this place now.”
“And you do not think it could be because of the gamekeeper’s death?” Mr. Carter asked.
I looked at Lady Wilson, my thoughts reflecting the same question. It seemed to add up to that, didn’t it? A murder having happened on their property, so soon after all she had recently experienced…Even I was beginning to believe that these wild fears she had been having were nothing more than residual feelings.
I understood too well how these sorts of matters could truly trouble a person, as I myself had spent many sleepless nights, my dreams filled with the faces of the dead I had the misfortune of seeing and attempting to help…
“I…I do not know,” Lady Wilson said finally. All traces of her earlier indignation had fled and she seemed defeated. “I suppose that is all it could be. I did not imagine it would have affected me so.”
“But Mr. Carter, would fear alone cause her to have such terrible physical side effects?” Lord Wilson asked. “To be so nauseous, to faint on a whim – ”
Mr. Carter shook his head. “That, I do not know. Only a physician would be able to discern that. However, do not think I am finished, Lady Wilson. I intend to keep my word to your husband and do my best to investigate these fears you are having, as well as anything that might be causing your illness. I do believe it is possible that something is amiss and shall do my utmost to discern what that trouble is.”
“Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Carter,” Lady Wilson said.
“Well, now, I imagine you shall rest easier tonight, dear aunt, knowing that someone is here to help,” Nash said. “I know that I shall have more peace knowing that we might very well be at the end of these trials.”
“Indeed,” Lord Wilson said. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Carter. Now, I shall see to it that Hornsby sets you up in a comfortable room.”
Hornsby returned as if he had been waiting at the door to be summoned in. I realized that he likely had been.
“Hornsby, have a room prepared for Mr. Carter,” Lord Wilson said with a wave of his hand. “Perhaps the one at the end of the eastern hall? It has marvelous views of the sunrise come morning.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” Mr. Carter said, inclining his head. “I shall be honored to enjoy such hospitality.”
“And be sure
to call the carriage for my nephew and Miss Dickinson, Hornsby. I realize we have kept them far later than expected and I should like them to make it back to town before the worst of the storm comes.”
“I am afraid, my Lord, that the storm has come sooner than expected,” Hornsby said in a flat tone. “I do not believe the carriage would be able to make it out of the drive.”
Lady Wilson’s eyes widened and then she shifted her gaze to me.
My stomach dropped as well.
I suppose that means I have to stay.
12
It was not as if I had a choice in the matter. If I had, then I would have found a way to brave the storm and start back to town on foot. At least, that was what I thought as Nash and I made our way to the window together.
I peered out through the darkness, and at once, it became clear.
Large, thick flakes of snow battered the glass, coming in quick swirls. Snow, which typically made no sound, could be heard as it struck the window, as faint as it was. A layer of white had settled upon the windowsill and along the lead panes of the glass. Further out, the deceptively puffy-looking whiteness had settled upon the ground, already obscuring the earth beneath it.
“That came on quickly,” Nash said from behind me, peering over my head.
“Well, I suppose we have no choice,” Lady Wilson said from the table. “Nash, you and Miss Dickinson will have to stay for the night.”
Nash looked back at her. “I suppose we will…”
I turned to her and curtsied deeply. “Lady Wilson, I am terribly sorry for the imposition. If I had known that a storm would strand me here, I should never have come to trouble you.”
“It’s perfectly all right,” Lady Wilson said. “There is nothing to be done about it. Nash, you shall stay in the room you always have. And Miss Dickinson…” she looked over at Hornsby. “Prepare the guest room in the hall near my own rooms, if you will. And please ensure that she has something more comfortable to change into.”
Nash smiled at me. “Well, now…” he said. “I suppose we will be seeing a bit more of each other, won’t we?”
