“Actually it was my idea.”
Eliza looked disbelieving, but she didn’t say anything and wasn’t that a shock? Cam watched her remove her lovely riding hat, a military style that looked quite well on her. She smiled. “You asked what I’m doing here. I live here for the next three days. Did you have a pleasant ride?”
“It wasn’t particularly pleasant, no.”
“Why ever not?”
“Everyone stopped us, not to inquire about our wedding in the fall, which is what they should have done, but no. Everyone wanted to know everything about your new husband’s history, and how he came to discover his identity. And who tried to kill him so many years ago. And constant talk of the falling statue in Ventnor. No one would speak of anything else.” She shrugged. “It was provoking. Even Winnie can talk of nothing else.
“Since you’re closer, ring the bell and tell Osbourne to order tea. You may also greet Winnie when he comes in, offer him brandy. He likes Father’s. I’m going upstairs to change. Oh yes, I believe friends of Father’s are dining with us this evening.”
“Yes,” she said to Eliza’s retreating back.
Eliza turned in at the door. “I saw Ellie Otis. She was wearing glasses just like yours. She looked ridiculous, just like you do. The chain does, however, lessen your look of a governess or a companion.”
Only three more days.
But what would happen at King’s Head? So many new people, and Eugenie—would she be a friend or a possible Eliza?
When Osbourne showed a windblown Winstead into the drawing room a few moments later, Cam walked to him, took his hands. “It is so good to see you, Win. Do come in and let me pour you some of Father’s French brandy.”
Winstead said as Cam walked to the small sideboard, “You are all the talk, Cam, you and Graham. This statue falling—it scares me to my toes. Most want to believe it an accident, but no one really does.”
Cam said, “We wanted to believe it was too, but no, it very likely wasn’t an accident.” She handed him the brandy, watched him take a sip, set the snifter on the small French table beside the sofa.
He sat forward, clasped his hands between his knees. “No, I do not believe it was an accident either. I’d hoped to speak to you alone. I am very concerned, my dear. Someone tried to murder Graham when he was a boy. Not only is Graham alive and well, it means this someone is trying again. Of course you are aware of all this, as is Graham, and you are both being vigilant. I’m trying to think of what I can do, but as of yet, there’s nothing except reiterate to you that you must be careful.”
Cam said slowly, “This person who tried to kill Graham when he was a boy, who did murder his brother, Simon, and their tutor, he didn’t know he’d failed with Graham until Graham discovered who he really was and appeared at King’s Head. I imagine he was relieved Graham had no memory of who he was, but of course he couldn’t take the chance he’d remember at any time and so he knocked the statue off the roof of the hotel in Ventnor. Of course he will try again, he must. It has to be someone close, Win, someone very close.”
Winstead nodded. He found himself studying her face, a face he always thought very pretty, distinctive, and he’d always liked her glasses and now what was there? Her glasses were dangling on a lovely gold chain. He watched her put them on her nose. It was distinctive, really quite an excellent idea.
Yes, Cam was always lively, always moving, smiling, eager for life, yes, that was it. He knew Eliza didn’t like her sister and he’d wondered why, but when he’d asked her once after overhearing her say to Cam her gown was common and the color made her look like oatmeal, she’d stared at him a moment, then laughed. “Oh, Winnie, it was all a jest.” And she’d patted his hand.
But it hadn’t been a jest. He now watched Eliza’s sister pace in front of him in her long-legged stride, her glasses sliding down her nose. She pushed them back up without thinking. She stopped, looked at him, and whispered, “Win, I am so afraid. If only Graham could remember, he would know. We would know and we could hunt this person down and I could smack him with a rock. Maybe a boulder, or my fist, that would make me feel better.” She sighed. “He’s always there, this black shadow, hovering in the back of our minds. Graham doesn’t say much, but I know it drives him crazy that he can’t remember.” She paused, felt tears well up, swallowed. “He’s afraid, for me.”
Winstead said, keeping his voice matter-of-fact, “This person is now desperate, Cam, since he knows once Graham is living at King’s Head surrounded with his past, he will remember, remember everything. He will take more risks and that makes him more dangerous.”
Winstead rose, took her restless hands in his. “I will say it again, you and Graham must take care, which is a stupid thing to say since of course you will. Keep family around you as much as possible.” He smiled. “Fact is, I am looking forward to our children growing up together.” And he leaned down, only a bit, and kissed her cheek.
Cam heard a movement, looked up to see Eliza standing in the doorway, staring at them.
She smiled, thankful Eliza didn’t have a pistol or she’d shoot Cam on the spot.
In a voice dripping with sarcasm, she said, “I trust that is a brotherly kiss?”
Win slowly released Cam, patted her arm, smiled at Eliza. “I was just telling your sister I very much like her glasses. They make her look distinctive and really quite clever, don’t you think?”
“No, I think she looks—” Eliza paused, shot a look at Cam, then smiled, drawled, “Yes, she looks as distinctive as a governess we had as children.”
“Ah,” Cam said with as much humor as she could dredge up even though she wanted to sink into the floor, “Miss Millstone. She was really clever as well.”
Eliza shrugged. “Well, you are distinctive, I’ll say that for you.”
Win looked from his fiancée to his future sister-in-law, saw her expression hadn’t changed, knew she was quite used to this. Win’s brow furrowed. He said, his voice deep, slow, “Eliza, I have watched you charm everyone in your orbit, everyone except your sister. I have watched you belittle her and wondered why you have this animosity toward her, your ownflesh and blood. I think your sister is really quite beautiful, not to mention kind. She is your sister, Eliza. You should cherish her, laugh with her, shop with her, and yes, compliment her.”
He raised his hand when she would speak. “No, I do not wish to hear any excuses. I want to be very clear about this, Eliza. You will cease this unkindness toward your sister. And there is my new family, a surprise, I know. I also know you had assumed you would be mistress. But you will not. My new stepmother will be mistress. You will not treat her or any of the children with anything but kindness and smiles and gaiety. They will be your family, every one of them.”
He paused, studied her set face, softened his voice, just a bit. “I love you, Eliza, and I expect your love and respect in return, not just for me but also for my new family. I will not allow any other behavior from you. I also hope your respect, maybe even a modicum of caring, will extend to your sister.” Again, he paused a moment, then, “Do you understand me? Clearly? Do you agree?”
