She blinked. “H-how did you know?”
“He came into the hall looking winded and asked if I had seen you.”
“Oh. Yes.” In utter relief at Frederick’s presence, Rebecca closed her eyes and leaned forward, resting her cheek against his chest.
She heard the strong, rapid beating of his heart and took comfort in the sound.
He tugged his hand free, and for one awful second she thought she’d offended him, but then both of his hands bracketed her shoulders, drawing her nearer, holding her close.
He smelled of spices and safety, childhood memories and unrequited love.
Rebecca breathed him in deeply, wanting to slow down this moment, press it between the pages of her favorite book....
She sneezed.
“Here, let’s get you out of this dusty place.” He picked up the lamp and carefully helped her up the stairs, his strong, steady hand enveloping hers.
He led her through the closet, set aside the lamp, and closed the panel behind them.
Then he turned to her and rubbed her arms. “Are you cold?”
Without waiting for a reply, he picked up a folded blanketfrom the foot of the bed and draped it around her shoulders. “Here. This should help.”
He rubbed her arms again through the thick wool and tucked his chin to look into her face. “What happened? Mr. George said he saw you running from the chapel in a panic.”
She swallowed but found it difficult to speak through a tight throat, her body still trembling.
He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “We tried your room first, but it was empty. You had not locked it, you know.”
Had she not?
“We also saw blood on the floor. Are you certain you are not hurt?”
“Only c-cut my ankle.”
“That’s a relief. I did not want anyone to follow me, so I waited until Mr. Edgecombe cornered George with some question, then let myself in here.”
“You s-still have the k-key?”
Frederick nodded. “Mayhew has not asked for it back, and guessing I might want to look again, I held on to it. Now I am glad I did.”
“S-so am I.” Her shivering slowly subsiding, she added, “Though you frightened me half to death when you opened that panel.”
He bit his lip. “Can you tell me what happened?”
She nodded. “You will probably think I am seeing things again, but...” She went on to tell him what she’d seen in Miss Newport’s room and in the chapel.
When she’d finished, she looked up into his face, wincing in anticipation. “You don’t believe me, do you.”
Uncertainty lined his forehead. “It is just so strange. Are you saying Miss Newport and Mr. George are in league together?That they both may have disguised themselves as the abbess at different times?”
She nodded. “I saw a man wearing the habit once—saw masculine boots and hands—though not his face, so I can’t be positive it was him.”
“Why would Mr. George walk around the hotel dressed that way?”
“To not be seen somewhere he shouldn’t be, like entering Miss Newport’s room? Or maybe to deflect suspicion away from her?”
He frowned. “And you saw them arguing over a ... mace?”
