A False Mirror - Charles Todd [125]
He said, lifting her shoulders to offer her a sip of water, “It will all seem like a nightmare, you know, when this has passed. Something you remember sometimes, but without the power to frighten you anymore.”
She answered, “It was a stupid thing, to take the powders all at once. But I was so tired and I didn’t know who to trust, what to believe. I wanted it all to be over with, I wanted to sleep forever, without having to think about anything again.”
“If Mallory will allow it, I’ll look in on you a little later. To make sure you’re feeling better.”
Rutledge, suddenly aware that Mallory hadn’t come back, turned and ran out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs.
He found the man sitting disconsolately on her bed, the revolver between his hands.
Rutledge said harshly, “Kill yourself here, and you might as well kill her. The effect will be the same.”
“I know. I’ve thought of that. I’m just out of solutions, Rutledge. I might as well give myself up to Bennett and let it be over. Granville can take her back to the rectory with him and find a woman to sit with her until her mother can get here. She’s never liked her mother. It will be the last thing she wants to happen. But we’ve come to the end of the road.”
Rutledge bent to collect the scattered papers that had held the sedative. “You’re a fool, Mallory, for getting yourself into this scrape and for dragging her with you. But I’m damned if you’re going out with a whimper, as you did in France. Get yourself cleaned up and come downstairs. This isn’t over, and you’ll play the role you laid out for yourself.”
“I’m too tired to care.”
“Then care about her, for God’s sake.”
Rutledge turned on his heel and left. He was halfway down the staircase when he heard Mallory shut Mrs. Hamilton’s bedroom door and walk heavily down the hall to the bath.
He gave Granville the papers the sedative had been folded into, and the doctor sniffed them before balling them up and tossing them away. “Mild enough. And probably not enough to kill her. But you did the right thing, though I doubt she’ll thank you for it.”
“She was frightened by the maid’s murder, and last night was not the best time to sleep well.”
“Yes, there were trees down on some of the farms. The Joyners lost an apple tree, and their neighbors had a large trunk come through their roof. They told Miss Joyner it sounded like the crack of doom. One of the roads was blocked as well.”
“You were out there?”
“The old man was having trouble breathing again. I doubt he’ll see the spring, but then he’s of strong stock. He may surprise me yet.” He stretched his back. “We ought to get her to bed. What shape is it in?”
“It’s ready for her. I was just up there.”
“Good.”
With Putnam going before them to manage the doors, they got her up the stairs and into her room. Rutledge saw that Mallory had taken away with him the decanter and the small bedside carpet where it had rolled and spilled. Dr. Granville tucked her in with surprising gentleness, and said, “I’ll have no more foolishness from you, my dear. You’ll see this through for your husband’s sake.”
“Thank you, Dr. Granville. I’m so sorry—after all you’ve been through.” It was the closest she could come to apologizing for what her husband might have done. She lay there, eyes overly large in her pale face, overcome by drowsiness after her ordeal. Putnam took her hand, and in the other she clutched the handkerchief he’d found for her. Tears seemed very near the surface. “It’s been very trying for all of us.”
“Sleep if you can. I’ll send along the broth, and if you drink that, it will strengthen you.” He turned to Rutledge, standing by the door. “We should have a woman come and sit with her. Do you think that’s possible?”
“Miss Esterley