Lady Mary
While I’d hadmy reservations about investigating a darkened ground floor, I wasn’t about to be told to stay put. Gripping the banister, I hurried down the stairs, following Mr. Ryder and Mr. Evans. Ryder picked up the oil lamp that was kept burning by the front door on a low wick and started for the front sitting room.
“The disturbance came from that direction.” I pointed at Perrin’s study. At least that’s where the sound had seemed to emanate.
Evans picked up a large candlestick. Plucking out the candle, he tossed it aside then prowled towards the room, holding the heavy silver stick aloft like a weapon. Ryder was only a step behind.
“What has happened?” The butler blinked sleepily at me as he and several other servants gathered around, most of them holding candles of their own.
“Rocks,” Ryder called from the study. He came to stand at the doorway. “Someone threw a rock at each of the windows in here. It’s a mess.”
We all surged forward, wanting to have our own looks at the destruction.
Miss Smith inched over the threshold, toeing a large piece of glass aside. “Who would do this?”
Evans scowled at her and clomped forward. He had taken the time to shove his feet in boots before rushing out of his room. Reaching her, he bent, wrapped one arm beneath her rear, and stood, holding her most inelegantly. He carried her from the room and set her down near the large round table in the middle of the hall. “There is much glass and you have bare feet.” He stomped back to the room, examining everyone’s feet as he passed.
“It would be best if everyone left the room,” Ryder said. “There’s nothing to see besides.”
I ignored that suggestion. After all, I had put on my slippers before I’d left my room, and I was still thinking about Miss Smith’s question. Who would have done this, and why? I surveyed the gathered crowd. All the guests had come down and joined the servants in the main hall. Everyone seemed to be accounted for.
I pressed my lips tight. I should have counted heads at the top of the stairs to see if anyone were missing then. There had been plenty of opportunity since we’d all descended for the malefactor to have rejoined the assembly after having his sport with rocks. It was poorly done.
But I couldn’t go back in time, so there was no use nursing that annoyance. If I couldn’t determine who, I would have to ponder on the why. It seemed so petty, smashing up windows. Childish. If it was the killer who had done it, surely he would have already achieved the ultimate satisfaction in destroying the master of the house. Attacking the house itself would be a poor satisfaction in comparison.
A gust of wind blew a stack of papers from the desk, and Evans muttered an oath. I bent to retrieve them as Ryder herded the last of the onlookers from the room and Evans searched out the butler.
“Are there wood and nails available to board these windows?” he asked.
The butler nodded. “By the stables. Johnny can fetch it.” He pointed at a young footman.
Evans clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, and followed the footman out.
Mr. Ryder stood in the threshold. He looked between me and the rest of the party in the hall. “Well, there isn’t much we can do here. We may as well go back to bed.”
I stared at the windows. One of the rocks had made all of the glass fall out of its pane, except for some small jagged points around the frame. The other window had remained intact, however, only missing a rock-sized hole near the center.
Rocks through windows were petty, yes. It could be attributed to boys having their idea of fun, or a drunken lark. But something about this act chilled my bones. It could also be an expression of pure hatred, and if killing Perrin hadn’t been sufficient for the murderer to excise his animus, then what else might be in store?
“Lady Mary.” Mr. Ryder came to the desk and took the papers from my hand. He put them in a neat pile and placed a paperweight on top. “There’s nothing to be done here. May I escort you to your room?”
A maid came in with a broom, and I realized that not only was there nothing I could do, but that I would be in the way, a circumstance I particularly detested. “Of course.” My grim musings could be had elsewhere.
I took his arm and let him lead me out. Most everyone else had already returned to their rooms, and we followed Lord and Lady Havenstone up the staircase.
“Try to get some sleep,” Ryder told me at the door of my room.
I inclined my head and endeavored to do just that.
Sadly, I failed. When I joined the others for breakfast in the dining room the next morn, it looked as though I wasn’t the only one who had tossed and turned all night. There were dark shadows under many ladies’ eyes, and Mr. Taylor looked as though he hadn’t had the vigor to comb his hair properly that morning. Bertram looked even worse, his eyes red and his skin sallow. His hand trembled faintly as he brought a bit of toast to his mouth.
I poured myself a cup of tea, adding an extra lump of sugar, and took my seat.
“How did you sleep, Lady Mary?” Miss Smith spread marmalade on a slice of toast across from her.
I decided not to respond to that question, only gave her a look.
One which she must have misinterpreted. “I had a splendid night’s sleep after all of that unpleasantness,” she continued.
