The Secret of Langley Manor

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The Secret of Langley Manor Page 6

by Alicia Donovan


  I looked over the stately animal, now understanding his true potential, before saying, “But I think Sean believes Andrew and the treasure are connected.”

  “I don’t see how that could be.”

  “Why do you think Andrew was killed?”

  “I really don’t know. It may not even have anything to do with this place. Or maybe he just took his own life.”

  “What about the tear and the stain on the shirt?”

  Michael nodded. “I thought that might be blood too. But the detective didn’t think so.”

  “Oh.”

  “He said we may never know.” Michael ran a hand over his face. “I hope that isn’t true. I’m sure Andrew’s family would like answers, and the last thing this place needs is more rumors circulating about it.”

  After Michael tended to King’s needs, we walked back to the house, this time in silence.

  “Did I ruin everything?” I asked, worried the quietness meant this would be our last walk.

  Michael was quick to turn, facing me. “No. I’m glad we talked. But that’s it? No more secrets hiding somewhere in there?” He circled his finger over my head.

  “Nothing. Unless you have something?”

  “You can ask me anything.”

  “Well, there is something I was curious about. Where did you find Andrew’s things?”

  Michael waved his arm at the other side of the barn. “There. Shoved into that corner under a large pile of hay. I was shocked when I found it.”

  “I bet.”

  He tipped his head. “That it? Any other questions?”

  “I think we are good for now,” I said with a grin.

  At the bottom of the stairs leading to my corridor, Michael stopped and ran a light hand up and down my arm. “I have a couple of things I need to check for tomorrow before I head up. But I’ll see you at breakfast, okay?”

  I nodded and smiled as he leaned in and gently kissed me on my forehead.

  Chapter 14

  I tried to sleep after that, I really did. But how could I? My emotions were on cloud nine, and my body wired.

  After a futile attempt at reading, then trying to sketch for a while, I gave up. Michael might forgive my nodding off tomorrow when I should be working, but I didn’t want to let him down.

  I knew exactly where to go for a remedy. Mrs. Baker.

  After throwing a robe over my nightgown, I trotted down the stairs and peeked into the kitchen. There she was in the little nook, just as I’d hoped, enjoying her own nighttime tea.

  “Mrs. Baker! Just who I was hoping to find.”

  She gave me a wide smile. “Just finishing up before turning in.”

  “I was hoping you had some leftover tea that will help me sleep?” I turned toward the main part of the kitchen. “Or I can make it, if you just point to the items.”

  “No,” the housekeeper said as she stood. “You let me do my job. Just sit and relax while I get it together. It will be done in no time.”

  I obeyed, moving to the table and sitting across from where her teacup and saucer were placed.

  “Quite an exciting day today, was it?” Mrs. Baker asked as she warmed the tea.

  “Oh, I think it’s just what we were saying yesterday, new bed and all that,” I mumbled.

  “Um.” Mrs. Baker glanced at me. “I thought the excitement of a sunset stroll with Mr. Langley might have you more awake than usual.”

  My shoulders sagged as I realized once again how bad I was at hiding the truth. What should I tell her? “I—well, I—”

  The housekeeper added sugar, stirring before she brought my teacup to me and laid it on the thick, white woven placemat. The color was darker today. But that was okay, I’d probably need it.

  After sitting, she said, “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, Abigail. I’ve seen this before. It’s not your fault. Mr. Langley may make a good employer, but he is quite unfair when it comes to matters of the heart.”

  My back went ramrod straight. “He wasn’t unfair, not at all. He—”

  “I know.” Her expression was caring, and her voice soothing. “Lisa has told me what he is like.”

  “Lisa?”

  “Yes, she is my granddaughter, you know. We’re close. When he broke her heart, of course, she told me.”

  I recalled what Lisa had said to me. I tried, she’d said about dating him. Who wouldn’t with his looks? But her grin and wink had given me the impression nothing had ever happened, let alone become serious.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” I picked up my tea and sipped. It seemed more bitter today, and I had trouble hiding my grimace.

  “Would you like a bit more sugar?” Mrs. Baker went to the counter and brought it back, setting it on the table beside me. “I must not have added enough.”

  As I added one teaspoon then another to my cup, I searched for another topic of conversation, but I wasn’t quick enough.

  “I’m just warning you to be careful. Lisa isn’t the only one. There are a couple of girls in town Mr. Langley had—well, something went on with them. I’m sure they’d be willing to tell you the same thing.”

  There were more? My heart sank, but then rebounded. Michael had said I could ask him anything. “No, that isn’t necessary. I understand what you’re saying.”

  Mrs. Baker gave me a long look and patted my hand. “Well, if all you get from this job is a step up in your career, it will still be worth it, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Good.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’d like to think it is worth your time.”

  I was mid-sip, the teacup at my lips, when she said, “I really didn’t like to see him with you. Not at all.”

  The comment startled me, and my swallow turned into a gulp. A drop escaped my lips and fell onto my light-blue shirt.

  I clattered my cup onto its saucer and grabbed a napkin from the holder, dabbing the stain. After a couple of swipes, I stopped. It wasn’t going to get any better.

  “Don’t worry about it, dear. I have just the stain remover to get it out. Getting rid of messes is my specialty.” She pushed my cup closer to me. ”Hurry and finish your tea before it gets cold again.”

  Chapter 15

  I thought cutting short my conversation with Mrs. Baker was a great idea as I didn’t want to discuss my relationship with Michael any further.

  I gulped the liquid left in the cup, including some bitter dregs, and carefully set my cup on its plate. My arm brushed against the wet spot on my shirt. I glanced down at it, frowning. It reminded me of something. What?

  But the tea was working already, and the memory slipped away before it was fully formed.

  My stomach twisted painfully, and I gasped. This had not happened yesterday. “I don’t think the tea is agreeing with me today, Mrs. Baker.”

  “It does that sometimes, dear. But don’t worry it will soon go away.”

  I stood but found my legs weak. I fell back on the chair, giggling. “I don’t think I’m going to make it to my room before I’m asleep.”

  “Would you like help?”

  “You’re so kind. Yes, I’d love some help.”

  Mrs. Baker wrapped her arm around my waist and helped me to my feet. I put my arm around her, grateful for her strength as I wavered. Not for a moment did I think anything was wrong other than a healthy dose of Mrs. Baker’s special brew. Instead, I giggled like a drunk woman as she hauled me out of the kitchen to the entry and up the stairs.

  “I hope Michael doesn’t hear us. He’ll think I’ve had too much liquor.” I tipped my head to the library’s closed door. A ribbon of light showed under it.

  The housekeeper tightened her arm and lugged me up a couple more stairs.

  My shirt hiked up, and I yanked it down, revealing the spot again.

  Why did it look so familiar?

  Another spot on another blue shirt blazed into my mind. Andrew. I gasped and reared back.

  “What is it, dear?”

&nb
sp; “Andrew had a spot like this.” My speech was now as garbled as my brain.

  “A spot? What are you talking about? You didn’t even know Andrew.”

  “On his shirt.”

  “What shirt?”

  “The one Michael gave to the police.”

  The housekeeper came to a standstill and gave me a steely gaze. “Explain.”

  Pain radiated from my stomach again. I bent, groaning. “What is happening?”

  “What do you think, you little gold digger?”

  Chapter 16

  “You!” I hissed as another wave of pain hit me. The urge to vomit almost overwhelmed me, but I stood to the best of my ability. I pulled away from her.

  Mrs. Baker said nothing. Instead, she hustled me up the stairs to the first landing even with my feeble attempts to fight her. But, it was her clear desire to get me off the stairs that cleared my fog, at least a little—the sharp edge of fear heightening my resolve.

  She wanted me away from Michael. Far enough he wouldn’t hear me cry out. I needed to yell! Instantly, I dragged in a breath.

  She yanked a dusting rag out of her back pocket and shoved it in my mouth. The taste of lemon oil and dirt nearly undid me. Bile rose in my throat. The smell stripped my nose of any other scent.

  I gagged, but she had no mercy. She shoved it further until her fingers were practically at the back of my throat and tied a red ribbon around my mouth and secured it at the back of my head to keep it in place. I gagged again and worried my air supply would be cut off.

  When I sent her a pleading look, the hard expression on her face told me she would willingly do that.

  My arms were weak and becoming weaker with every moment. Still, I tried to fight her off. She yanked off her apron and tied my hands in front of me.

  I managed to raise my almost useless arms and push her. If I could get her off balance, she would tumble down the stairs.

  We wrestled. She got the upper hand, wrapping her hefty arms around my upper body and forcing my arms down.

  I continued to struggle. She raised a fist and slugged me in the face. Twice. My head exploded in agony.

  After stunning me, she dragged me up the last few stairs to the first landing. Below, a door creaked. My heart pounded. Michael had heard!

  “Mrs. Baker?”

  It was Michael!

  “Yes?” she answered him as she dropped me onto the hardwood floor.

  “Is everything ok?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m just gathering up rugs for tomorrow’s washing.” As evidence of that, she hurried to roll the landing rug and push it down the stairs. “Sorry to bother you.”

  I pushed against the floor, demanding my weak arms and legs work. If I could just make it to partway up, he would see me.

  My breath huffed through my nose as I strained to rise. I made it to my hands and knees and grasped one of the posts of the banister.

  Each movement felt like I was pushing at quicksand. Hurry! Hurry!

  Michael’s voice floated up to me. “It’s no bother. Have a good night.”

  I yanked myself higher. Just in time to see Michael as he turned away.

  “I plan on it,” Mrs. Baker said.

  The housekeeper turned to find me feebly pulling the rag from my mouth. After rushing to me, she shoved it back in and retied the ribbon.

  Tears rolled down my face. Why hadn’t I taken the cloth out of my mouth first?

  I had only my drugged brain to thank for that mistake.

  “You’ve been nothing but trouble from the moment you showed up.” She slapped me, but it was the words that rang through my ears. Words I’d heard many times before, for no more reason than now. Words like that had formed my life, and it was time it stopped.

  I pushed and shoved and punched as much as I could, but the drug or poison was too far along for me to do much damage.

  After that, she put her hands under my arms and dragged me. My body thumped hard against each stair as we reached the second landing, but no one would hear it now. And I was beginning to realize that I’d be dead before any of these bruises formed.

  Chapter 17

  Tears fell as she pulled me the last few yards to my bed. She lifted my upper then lower body onto the bed, then pulled me up and flopped me onto my pillow.

  The cloth fell further back into my throat. I gagged uncontrollably.

  Without mercy, Mrs. Baker stared at me for a moment as I weakly thrashed for breath, my tied arms limp and useless as I tried to reach for my mouth.

  She sighed, shut my bedroom door, and came closer. My brain was swirling into darkness before she untied the red ribbon and slowly pulled the cloth out.

  I hauled in a deep breath, which ended in a fit of coughing. As soon as I could, I hacked out, “Why?”

  “Stupid girl! Because you are after Michael and the treasure. You think I can’t see that? It isn’t yours to have. It’s for Lisa—for my family.”

  “I’m not. I do like Michael, but I’ll leave.” I tried to tame my shaky voice, willing to say anything to get out of this room alive. “I swear I’ll pack my bags and go.”

  “You’ll go, all right.” She pulled a teacup and a small lumpy bag from her pocket. “They’ll see this stuff and know you helped yourself to my special tea. I’ll tell them that it’s too bad. I could have given you the right dosage. Such a shame. And of course, some will think you did it on purpose.”

  I moaned over my helplessness as Mrs. Baker took off my shoes and lifted a blanket from the end of my bed to cover me.

  “And Andrew?”

  “Because he was looking for it, too. He figured out the real treasure was the horse operation. I caught him on the phone asking a buddy to find a buyer for the herd. Michael doesn’t insure them for near what they’re worth, and it would take decades to get the operation back to its current value if they’re stolen. I knocked Andrew on the head with a frying pan and forced the tea down his gullet. The hardest part was rolling him across the lawn to the lake and weighing him down. And if your friend figures it out, he’ll be next.”

  How did she know about Sean? Ice trailed my spine. Then anger lit my belly.

  The housekeeper leaned into my face. “It is mine. My dad helped Old Langley grow his stable. It was Dad’s idea that rebuilt the family’s coffers, and what did he get? Nothing. The old man gave him nothing. But when Lisa marries Michael, everything will be right again.”

  My teeth clamped together. “Michael isn’t going to marry Lisa.”

  She raised her hand in a threat. I stared back, daring her to hit me again. My battered body would tell the police what happened. It may be the only way to save Sean.

  It apparently wasn’t something she’d thought of, and I wasn’t going to remind her.

  “There are always ways,” she continued. “Too much wine along with a little of what I’ve given you would equal one confusing night for Mr. Michael. Then, when Lisa claims she’s pregnant . . . Michael isn’t one to question a lady; he’ll do the right thing. That’s one thing I can count on him for. Oh yes, he will marry Lisa.”

  “I thought you said he was a terrible man.”

  Mrs. Baker laughed. “Oh, you stupid girl. Do you believe everything you hear?”

  My eyes grew heavier. My body so weak now I could barely strain against the bindings. My thoughts became dimmer. I was going to die.

  If I’d had any doubt, it fled when Mrs. Baker patted me. “It’ll be over soon, dear. No use in fighting it. Just let yourself fall asleep.”

  “No.” In my mind, the word was strong, defiant. But it came out so weak, the housekeeper never heard it.

  She crept to the door and peeked into the hallway.

  A sob escaped me as she slipped out of the room.

  As the black crept closer, all I could do was pray. Please don’t let my life end like this.

  Chapter 18

  A pinpoint of light in the swirl of darkness.

  “Abigail? Abigail! Wake up!”

  I screwed up m
y face against his shouting.

  Someone lifted me, and I was limp in his strong arms. “Don’t leave me! Don’t you leave!”

  Michael. His voice broke on each word.

  I didn’t want to leave him, but the pull of the poison sleep was too strong to resist.

  I heard a shower start. Cold water rapped against me, and I huddled closer to him.

  “Michael, no.” My voice was so weak I wasn’t sure he heard my protest.

  “Yes, darling.” He first sat on the edge of the tub, then slid in, still supporting me, to its floor, and wrapped his strong arms around me. “Keep talking.”

  “It’s cold.”

  “It is. But Joe is calling the paramedics. They’ll be here soon. They will have something for you. I’m sure they will.”

  Michael pressed his face to mine, and I felt his warm tears against my chilled face. He rambled, trying to keep me awake. “Sean told me to come find you. The police tested that stain and found it was tea mixed with some deadly herbs. He remembered you telling him Mrs. Baker had given you something to help you sleep. He called, frantic, saying I should check on you. Abigail?”

  My head rolled to the side. He jostled me and rubbed my arms.

  “Fight, Abigail!” he whispered, his tone urgent as he pulled me closer, bringing my head to his.

  “I’ll try,” I murmured. But the dark continued to press me.

  “You must.” A ragged sob tore through him. “I’ve only just found you.”

  Chapter 19

  I woke in a stark white hospital room. My eyes blinked against the harshness of the light. But it’s how I knew I was alive.

  Life wasn’t easy.

  I scanned the room and found Michael at my side, a slow smile making its way across his handsome face.

  But life had its perks.

  Without a word, he leaned over me and covered my face with gentle little kisses. When he landed one near my lips, he gazed at me, a question in his eyes. I gave a slight nod.

 

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