She gathered all her raging emotions back into herself, snapping locks down on the parts that threatened to undo her, make her useless for the hours ahead. She wrapped her logic back around herself, holding onto it like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. It was her mind, not her heart, that would help find Sin.
She faced the next bedchamber door. “Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Winnifred slouched on the parlor’s armchair, one leg tossed over the armrest, and tapped the blade of a dirk onto her palm. She’d picked up the weapon when she’d searched Kenmore’s dungeon. She turned the antique weapon over, a bit of rust on the handle scratching her palm. The weight of it was soothing when nothing else that night had been.
Summerset brought her a steaming cup of dark brown liquid.
Winnifred looked up at him, her eyes taking too long to focus. “I don’t drink coffee.”
“You do this morn.”
Winnifred took the cup. The brew smelled heavenly but tasted as bitter as hellfire. She drank it regardless.
“They must have had horses standing by and removed Dunkeld and Sutton from the estate.” Summerset paced to the fireplace and stirred the logs into higher flames. The weak morning sunlight caught his profile, exposing deep fatigue lines around his eyes and mouth.
“What horses?” Winnifred took another sip, no longer noticing the taste. “We spoke to the stablemaster. Two of the grooms were awake all night playing cards. No one snuck any of their horses past them.”
“Then they rented the animals from Inver.” Summerset picked up a small glass vase from the mantel, one of Deirdre’s treasures, and glared at it.
“Tavish sent men to the village, too. No horses are unaccounted for.” They had to still be on Dunkeld property. She rubbed her forehead and set her cup on an end table. She knew she would have to give the order to her steward to drag the loch, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until no further hope remained.
Summerset twisted, hurling the vase against the far wall. The crash of glass exploding sounded behind her, but Winnifred didn’t turn. She kept her gaze on the earl.
“Whatever happened isn’t your fault.” She should rise and go to him but her legs didn’t want to move.
Summerset shot her a disgusted look and raked a hand through his hair.
She dropped her head on the seatback. “What would any of them have done differently than you? No one would have expected both Sin and Sutton to be overwhelmed and taken through a window. It is only the fault of those who took them.”
His only answer was to pick up another vase, this one full of flowers, and throw it against the wall, too.
“Whenwe find Sin, he won’t appreciate your having destroyed his home.” But she understood the earl, even found some temporary solace in his acts of destruction. The violence perfectly mirrored her feelings, as well.
“I dunnae appreciate it, either.” Deirdre strode into the room, the skirts of her gown swishing. “I took a lot of care in growing those flowers. It does no one any good to throw a fit like a child.”
“Yes, my lady.” Summerset turned his back on them, crossing his arms as he faced out the window.
“Now,” Deirdre said, rubbing her hands together, “you need to go up and get dressed, my dear. The guests are starting to leave and it’s important that you bid them farewell.” Like a sane person went unsaid.
Winnifred pushed to unsteady feet. She gripped the handle of the dirk. “I fear that no amount of proper fare-thee-wells will alter anyone’s opinion of me now. The die has been cast.” And she felt nothing. One of their guests could petition for her incarceration, and it wouldn’t matter. Not at this moment. The logical part of her brain knew this was nonsense. That even if she lost Sin, she wouldn’t wish to be trapped in Bedlam when the grief eased. But she told that part of herself to stuff it.
“I don’t know if I can handle Lord and Lady Abercairn’s smug faces.” She pressed her free hand to her belly. “They did something to my Sin, and they won’t be brought to account.”
“No.” Summerset jerked his chin over his shoulder to look at her. “Once Liverpool receives my communique, they will be picked up and held until the prime minister decides what to do with them. Whatever has happened, they will not come out of this unscathed. I promise you this.”
“Why don’t ye go rest.” Deirdre’s smile wobbled but didn’t fall. “I’ll stand in yer stead and see our guests off.”
Yes, that would be the easy thing to do. Avoid the curious and triumphant stares. But something perverse in herself balked. She’d take every cut. Every sneer. Because those insults were somehow still a connection to Sin. If she went to her room and closed the door, there would be ... nothing.
“I’ll do my duty.” She shuffled from the room, with Deirdre and Summerset following only a step behind. Probably worried she’d collapse at any moment and need to be caught.
When she turned for the front doors instead of the staircase, Deirdre squeaked. “But ye must change.”
“My night rail covers more than some of those ladies’ gowns.” She nodded as the butler opened the door for her. His lips twitched. At least her behavior brightened one person’s day.
Lady Margaret stood by the door, waiting for her party’s luggage to be loaded on their carriage. She gasped when Winnifred marched down the front steps, her wrapper billowing out about her.
