Until then, I had taken to correspondence, writing to nearly everyone of my acquaintance in hopes of receiving assistance in tracking Hollinsby. I was uncertain whether anything would come of it. Lord Paxton often lent his ear to my troubles and had even provided me with a list of his personal contacts who might be of help. Once sent, however, all I could do was await a response.
More waiting.
I would go mad.
“You need to find something to occupy yourself,” said Jack from his place on the sofa. He watched me pace the room, as if I was providing him with enough amusement he needn’t leave the house to find it elsewhere.
“I have exhausted all of my contacts and your father’s,” I snapped back. “Indeed, there is unlikely a piece of paper left in this house for me to write on with how many letters I’ve sent.”
Jack shrugged. “You could ride into town for more supplies. Or find a different hobby.”
I could, but that would take me away from Kenwick.
“Be kind, Jack.” Bridget shifted on the sofa, settling her embroidery cushion against her lap. Even from here, I could tell it had a ship with a pirate flag. The young woman was obsessed with pirates. “Lieutenant Paget is pining for our sister. Let him be.”
“I was not beingunkind,” Jack rebutted. “But you are correct about the pining. Our lieutenant has become a lovesick fool. What a shame.”
Bridget glared at him before turning her attention back to me. “Ignore him. I think it is all quite romantic.”
“Romantic or not, he still should find something to do,” said Jack. “Going into town is a viable option.”
I shook my head. “I wish to be here when…when your sister is ready.”
“Lud.” Jack rolled his eyes. “She may not be well enough to receive you for days more.”
I shot him a glare. He was correct, but I had no wish to consider having to waitdayslonger to see Annette. My feet stopped moving, and I ran a hand through my hair. “Perhaps a ride would help.”
It wouldn’t. Only one thing would rid me of this anxious energy, and the option was not available to me. Neither Lady Paxton nor Apsley would take kindly to my barging into Annette’s room and demanding a private audience with her.
Lord Paxton would probably approve, but that was beside the point.
Jack frowned as though someone had taken away his favorite puppy. “Well, then, I suppose I must be off. If you intend to leave, I shan’t have anything to amuse me.”
“Forgive me for ruining your fun,” I responded flatly.
Jack grinned, and I followed him from the room. To my surprise, he left the house, but he did not accompany me to the stables. I lost sight of him as he wandered the path through the pleasure gardens toward The Towers. That was a mystery Annette and I had never solved, and I considered following Jack for a moment. I could question his purpose in having the key, using my excuse to view Willowbrook from the east tower’s prime position.
But I had no need to spy on Willowbrook any longer. Hollinsby was long gone.
I paused just outside the stables, my brows furrowing. Hollinsby was gone, but he had left in haste. Did that mean he had time to clear everything out of the house that might be used as evidence against him? Perhaps not. In fact, the hastier a person’s actions, the more chance there was of them making a mistake.
My pulse increased as I debated the wisdom of what I was about to do, but I could not pass on this opportunity. Visiting Willowbrook may lead to nothing, but there was a chance I could walk away with information.
Information strong enough to bring a case against the man.
I glanced toward Kenwick and sighed. Jack had said I needed a distraction. Perhaps this would do.
Once Lightning was saddled, I rode for Willowbrook. My heart hammered with anticipation, steadily increasing as I approached the manor. There was an eerie atmosphere about the place, and the closer I came, the more unsettled I felt. Nothing stirred outside the building, and I debated whether to knock on the door or simply waltz inside.
The latter was tempting.
I knocked, deciding to forgo the impulse. This was not my property, and if I were caught entering without permission, there would be repercussions. I did not need to hand Hollinsby my head on a silver platter.
But no answer came to my knocking. Langley had said he believed the servants had all gone as well.
I roamed the grounds outside the estate for half an hour, seeking to confirm Langley’s observation. The stables were empty of both horses and humans, which left me confident that the place was entirely abandoned. Only with that belief did I finally enter the house. No one had even bothered to lock the front door, yet more evidence of the haste with which Hollinsby left.
I stood in the small vestibule, glancing around at the interior decor with scrutiny. Nothing about the paintings and sculptures was abnormal. Nothing about the wallpaper or ornamental vases hinted that a criminal had lived here. The house was just like Hollinsby—genteel and all things proper on the outside, while internal secrets hid the monster. Hid the crimes.
