silence. I was filled with a contentment I knew I would not have again for a while. Meals at Blackbriar would no doubt be less fine, both from a culinary and a social standpoint.
Suddington seemed to be thinking the same. “I must not be deprived for long of our delightful dinners. Promise you will dine with me here at the inn again soon. Do not allow that wretched Sloane-Smith to bully you into giving all your time to the school. You must have your freedoms. And if she should prove disagreeable, you will let me know. My family is old here and I am not without influence.”
“Miss Sloane-Smith is stern, it is true, but she is nothing as terrible as she is made out to be.”
His smile slid wider, sultry and mesmerizing. “How charming you are, always so positive and hopeful. It is inspiring, such an attitude. But I do not wish you to be naïve.” He leaned forward, and I felt a wave of lightheadedness come over me. I noticed the male scent coming off him, reaching out like a delicate finger to stroke my sense of smell. It made me shiver with pleasure. “There is cruelty up on the fells, make no mistake. And so have a care, Mrs. Andrews. I would not like it if anything happened to you. I am already anticipating our next encounter.”
I smiled at the compliment, but it was a shaky smile. Was he warning me? I could not fathom his meaning, or if perhaps this was simply another way of flirting with me. If so, it was decidedly strange, and I did not see what sort of danger he was cautioning me against.
After he’d taken his leave, I was about to climb the stairs to my chamber—my last night at the inn, as I would be moving on to the staff quarters at the school in the morning—when my gaze espied the hearth blanket used yesterday evening by Mrs. Danby’s mother, lying in a heap on the floor next to her empty chair. I took a moment to go and fold it neatly.
As I placed it carefully on the seat, my eye caught something irregular in the wall. The mortared stones were all of a size, more or less, except one to the right of the hearth opening. That particular stone was elongated, about as high as my ankle to my hip, and about as wide as my arm was long. It was flatter, its surface unnaturally smooth.
It nearly looked—and I was sure my imagination was running to the macabre these days—to be the exact size and shape of a gravestone, except the arched end was at the bottom and the straight end was at the top. Peering closer, I saw that there was something written on it.
I crouched so that I could study the runnels cut into the stone. I made out an N, an I, then something I could not read, then an inverted D. On the other side, a strangely wrought M and another I. I peered closer, puzzled, for the letters made no sense. Then, in a flash of insight, I realized the stone was upside down. The M was a W and the word, or name, rather, was Winifred .
“Are you needing anything before you retire, Mrs. Andrews?” Mrs. Danby said, coming up behind me.
I whirled, a bit startled. “Nothing, thank you. That was a lovely meal, Mrs. Danby. Is your mother well?”
“Oh, she is in a state. I am so sorry about last night. I kept her to her bed today.”
I wanted to ask more, but could not find a way to do so without seeming to pry. Mrs. Danby was clearly embarrassed.
“I shall retire now. I am almost sad to leave tomorrow, although I am very excited to begin my new position,” I said. “I have enjoyed your excellent cooking and felt quite at home here.”
Mrs. Danby beamed. “Oh, my dear, I am so glad. We will miss you, but goodness, you aren’t going far. Now, go on and get a good night’s rest. I’ve turned down your bed. Oh, and I’ve had Janet repack your trunk. I told her to leave out the things you’ll need tonight and in the morning, so you’re all set.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. I had the urge to embrace her, but I refrained. It was a silly impulse; I was always touched when someone fussed over me. It
Suddington seemed to be thinking the same. “I must not be deprived for long of our delightful dinners. Promise you will dine with me here at the inn again soon. Do not allow that wretched Sloane-Smith to bully you into giving all your time to the school. You must have your freedoms. And if she should prove disagreeable, you will let me know. My family is old here and I am not without influence.”
“Miss Sloane-Smith is stern, it is true, but she is nothing as terrible as she is made out to be.”
His smile slid wider, sultry and mesmerizing. “How charming you are, always so positive and hopeful. It is inspiring, such an attitude. But I do not wish you to be naïve.” He leaned forward, and I felt a wave of lightheadedness come over me. I noticed the male scent coming off him, reaching out like a delicate finger to stroke my sense of smell. It made me shiver with pleasure. “There is cruelty up on the fells, make no mistake. And so have a care, Mrs. Andrews. I would not like it if anything happened to you. I am already anticipating our next encounter.”
I smiled at the compliment, but it was a shaky smile. Was he warning me? I could not fathom his meaning, or if perhaps this was simply another way of flirting with me. If so, it was decidedly strange, and I did not see what sort of danger he was cautioning me against.
After he’d taken his leave, I was about to climb the stairs to my chamber—my last night at the inn, as I would be moving on to the staff quarters at the school in the morning—when my gaze espied the hearth blanket used yesterday evening by Mrs. Danby’s mother, lying in a heap on the floor next to her empty chair. I took a moment to go and fold it neatly.
As I placed it carefully on the seat, my eye caught something irregular in the wall. The mortared stones were all of a size, more or less, except one to the right of the hearth opening. That particular stone was elongated, about as high as my ankle to my hip, and about as wide as my arm was long. It was flatter, its surface unnaturally smooth.
It nearly looked—and I was sure my imagination was running to the macabre these days—to be the exact size and shape of a gravestone, except the arched end was at the bottom and the straight end was at the top. Peering closer, I saw that there was something written on it.
I crouched so that I could study the runnels cut into the stone. I made out an N, an I, then something I could not read, then an inverted D. On the other side, a strangely wrought M and another I. I peered closer, puzzled, for the letters made no sense. Then, in a flash of insight, I realized the stone was upside down. The M was a W and the word, or name, rather, was Winifred .
“Are you needing anything before you retire, Mrs. Andrews?” Mrs. Danby said, coming up behind me.
I whirled, a bit startled. “Nothing, thank you. That was a lovely meal, Mrs. Danby. Is your mother well?”
“Oh, she is in a state. I am so sorry about last night. I kept her to her bed today.”
I wanted to ask more, but could not find a way to do so without seeming to pry. Mrs. Danby was clearly embarrassed.
“I shall retire now. I am almost sad to leave tomorrow, although I am very excited to begin my new position,” I said. “I have enjoyed your excellent cooking and felt quite at home here.”
Mrs. Danby beamed. “Oh, my dear, I am so glad. We will miss you, but goodness, you aren’t going far. Now, go on and get a good night’s rest. I’ve turned down your bed. Oh, and I’ve had Janet repack your trunk. I told her to leave out the things you’ll need tonight and in the morning, so you’re all set.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. I had the urge to embrace her, but I refrained. It was a silly impulse; I was always touched when someone fussed over me. It
Similar Books
