Cordelia felt the blood drain from her face. She touched the cameo on her neck collar and nodded jerkily. “Yes. I am sure it was only an accident.”
Thomas cleared his throat. “I don’t want to alarm you, but when I spoke to the foreman to reprimand him about the roof tiles, he swore that his men would never leave them on a ledge. And when I examined the roof myself, I saw that all the other tiles were neatly stacked in the crates.”
She sat down on the edge of her bed because it was the closest piece of furniture. “You think someone is deliberately trying to hurt me?”
He nodded, his expression grave. “I hope not, but I do think it would be wise for us both to be on our guards.”
She turned to look him in the eye and something caught her attention: there was a single piece of paper on her pillow. She leaned over, picked it up, and unfolded it. Inside, there was only one handwritten sentence in all capital letters:IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE, YOU WILL GO BACK TO AMERICA.
Cordelia dropped the note like it was on fire. Panic seized her heart and she felt hysterical. “Someone is threateningme… Someone tried to kill me. Why would they want to kill me? What have I done? Is teaching children how to sing and giving them new books to read so very bad?”
Thomas stooped down and picked up the paper. She saw him clench his jaw as he read the contents before folding it back up and pocketing it. He sat down beside her on the bed and put his arm around her shoulders. “Nothing. No, you’ve done the opposite. You’ve done everything. You’ve made Ashdown Abbey into a home again. You’ve helped the village and improved our tenants’ homes. You’ve even helped the local school.”
“Nobody likes me here,” she said, watching her hands shake as she admitted the unpleasant truth. “Nobody wants me here.”
“That’s not true,” Thomas said. “I want you here. I like you… I more than like you. I—I need you, partner.”
She felt so numb, removed from everything around her. She didn’t want to be liked or needed; she wanted to be loved. She’d tried so hard to please her mother and now the people of Ashdown and Petersley, but it never was enough. She never was enough. Someone had shot at her from the ash grove, her favorite trees and the place where she loved to think.
“We should leave,” Thomas said suddenly. “We could go to London tonight.”
“But we sent out the invitations yesterday for a party at Ashdown that is in less than a fortnight. Can you imagine what kind of gossip there would be if we weren’t here for our first party?”
“I don’t mind the gossip as long as you are safe.”
“And how do we know that we won’t be bringing the person who is trying to hurt me with us to London?”
“You think it is one of the servants?”
She shook her head. She was too hysterical to think. To reason. “I-I-I don’t know. I’m not sure that I would feel any safer in London than I do here. There are so many strangers there. So many places and nooks for people to lurk.”
“We’ll stay at Ashdown until the party is over. Until then, don’t go anywhere by yourself,” Thomas said, standing up. “I’ll go and speak to the local constable at once and have him come over and investigate. If I need to, I’ll even call in Scotland Yard.”
Cordelia did not trust her voice, so she nodded.
Thomas pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Be safe, my darling.”
He went back out her door and Cordelia pressed a hand to her cheek. He’d called herhis darling.
Somehow that was more shocking than being threatened and shot at.
31
Aweek later, a gentleman named Mr. Holden from Scotland Yard, with a long brown beard and only one eye, met with Thomas.
“Mr. Holden at your service, my lord,” the inspector said with a curt bow, raising his bowler hat off his head.
“Thank you for coming.” Thomas led Mr. Holden to his closed carriage. He didn’t dare ride about in the open-air landau anymore.
“Tell me more about your wife, Lady Farnham.”
“My wife is from New York. She is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Jones.”
“The railroad family?”
“Yes,” Thomas said, and paused before adding, “and I fear that someone is trying to kill her.”
“Why do you believe that, my lord?”
