Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [3]
The members of the household had fallen into two groups, Daphne thought, her mind distracted from the letter by the notion. They either belonged to the haunted or the hunted. A few seemed to suffer both afflictions. Like Katherine.
It was hard not to be curious. Hard not to believe that if one learned the history and the truth, one could help. Daphne knew better, however. After all, she was a bit haunted and hunted herself, in ways that no one could ever change.
“Verity mostly writes about the doings at her home in Oldbury,” she said, passing the letter to Katherine. “Lord Hawkeswell journeyed north to assess whether the trouble up there will affect her iron mill.”
Katherine frowned over the letter while she read it. “I am glad that she did not go with the earl. The papers are full of dire predictions and warnings about violence.”
“They often exaggerate. As you can see, her husband did not think there is any danger to their property or people.”
“It could be different come August. There is that big demonstration planned.”
“Plans are not certainties.” However, it could be very different come August. One more thing to contemplate while reassessing the future.
Daphne turned to the paper itself. In addition to news about all those doings up north, the Times had other political stories, as well as correspondent letters from the Continent. One caught her eye. The new Duke of Becksbridge had been honored at a dinner a fortnight ago, attended by the best of Parisian society. It was, from the telling, a party to say good-bye prior to his imminent departure for London to take up the duties of his inheritance.
Would he live in England now? Or would he, hopefully, do as some other peers had since the war ended, and return to the Continent to make his home permanently in France?
“Who is that?” Katherine said.
Daphne looked over to see Katherine sitting upright, peering out the window behind Daphne’s sofa.
Daphne turned around. “I see no one.”
Katherine stood and moved closer. She squinted at the tapestry of flowers and plants outside. “A man just walked through the garden, not fifty feet from this window. He is near the rose arbor now.”
Daphne’s sight followed Katherine’s pointing finger. She glimpsed the movement of a dark form near the arbor.
Just then their housekeeper, Mrs. Hill, entered the sitting room with a frown on her birdlike face. “There is a horse in front. I did not hear it approach on the lane, but there it is, with its rider gone.”
“The rider is in the garden.” Daphne could not see him any longer. She removed her apron. “I will go out and invite him to leave.”
“Will you be wanting the pistol?” Katherine asked.
“I am sure that this person was only curious about a property named The Rarest Blooms that he found himself passing. He probably ventured up the lane to see just how rare the flowers might be.”
Katherine remained tense, staring at the garden. Hunted, Daphne thought again.
“I suggest you watch from the greenhouse, Katherine. If our trespasser behaves in a threatening manner when I address him, you come out and brandish the pistol. Just try not to shoot him unless it is absolutely necessary.”
Daphne left the house as if going for a midday turn on the property. She strolled past the kitchen garden, then followed paths through beds displaying summer flowers.
The greenhouse flanked the plantings on her right, and a brick wall with espaliered fruit trees hemmed in the garden on her left. Two portals on either side of the house gave entry to the gardens. The intruder must have come through one of them.
She meandered left, toward the arbor near the wall. The climbing rose that provided shelter from the sun there had not yet blossomed, but its leaves created a dense, shadowed sanctuary. As she approached, she saw the man sitting on the bench within.
He saw her too. He cocked his head a little, as if her