If Poe tried for another attack, Abraham didn’t want Lydia caught in the cross fire.
He gestured for the nearest officer to walk with them as he led Lydia toward the house. “Ask around. Determine if anyone saw who threw that fire grenade.”
The officer nodded and left to do as ordered.
“What are you thinking?” Anxiety edged Lydia’s voice.
With as smart as she was, she likely had more of an idea than she let on, but he refused to answer until they were inside.
When they entered the kitchen, Miss Plane was sitting on the floor, wrapping linens around her goat’s legs. She glanced up and frowned when she saw Abraham’s coatless and sooty appearance. “I see you got too close to the flames too. That salve on the counter works for people as well as animals.”
Lydia directed him to a chair next to the white tin Miss Plane indicated. Once he was seated, she cupped his chin and turned his head so she could better see. Cool fingers of her free hand trailed lightly up the side of his face as she scrutinized the damage. Nothing hurt where she touched, so that was good. However, when she reached the area where his hair should be, her fingers scraped against his scalp and short, stiff hairs. Her hand slid higher into a longer section and attempted to comb it over the singed portion.
“You’ll be lopsided until you visit a barber, but thankfully I don’t think there is any damage to your face or throat. Now roll up those sleeves so I can inspect your arms for burns.” She focused on tending his injuries and lowered her voice so that Miss Plane could not hear. “Tell me why you instructed an officer to question people.”
He leaned forward and tried to ignore how her fingers gently traced the edges of the red blotches forming. “That fire was set.”
She sighed and reached for the tin. “That was my fear, but what makesyouthink so?”
“There is no logical explanation for why the carriage house would spontaneously catch fire. As fast as it ate up that corner, Poe had to have used an accelerant.”
“Like what?” The pungent, spicy scent of Henry’s Carbolic Salve wafted up as she opened the tin.
“Kerosene, mineral spirits, turpentine. Any of those are highly flammable and easy to obtain.”
Lydia dipped her fingers into the waxy salve and then turned his palm face up. Her gentle ministrations as she slathered the sticky goo soothed him as much as the salve’s cooling properties. If the subject weren’t so serious, he’d be tempted to lean back and let her nurse him all afternoon.
“But why would he burn the carriage house?”
“As a distraction to steal you away, just like his note said.”
Her brows drew together as she stared at his worst burn. By the downturn of her mouth as she wrapped a strip of linen around his hand, she worked his explanation over in her mind.
All at once, she straightened, a ghastly horror contorting her expression. “No. It wasn’t a distraction to steal me away. It was a distraction to steal my manuscript!”
She dropped his hand and ran from the kitchen.
CHAPTER30
ABRAHAMJUMPED TO HIS FEET.“Where’s her manuscript?”
“We were burning it in the parlor.” Theresa shoved supplies off her lap.
He didn’t wait for her to rise from the floor but raced into the hall.
Lydia was feet from reaching her destination.
“Don’t go in without me! Poe may be in there.”
Why he expected that knowledge to make her wait for him, he didn’t know. Instead, Lydia swiped a vase off the foyer table and darted into the room with it held above her head.
Abraham fumbled to draw his revolver and winced at the pain required to fully grip it.
Glass shattered.
He stopped short of rushing through the door, peering around the corner with his weapon pointed to the floor instead. Even if Poe were inside, he’d take no unnecessary risks.
But only Lydia stood there, the vase she’d held in her hands now a mess of shards on the floor.
