The culprit had to have been someone of the district who knew the castle and could visit without scrutiny, but that merely narrowed it down to at least a hundred staff of stable and house, not to mention gamekeepers, merchants from the village and the cart drivers of the daily deliveries, any one of whom could have been bribed by someone with more malicious intent.
With a shake of head, he strode towards the statue, untied the noose and cradled the bird, the senseless cruelty flattening his lips.
“I’ve found nothing,” Redmond stated, rounding the hedge. “I’d say it was a foul prank.”
“Talk to the lads about this, will you?”
“Aye.”
Ernest tapped his foot and perused Redmond’s height and breadth. He had an additional task for his rugged Irish stable master.
12
TWINKLE, TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR…
“I’ve replaced the candle with a new one, Hebe. But are you sure you do not wish me to stay the night?”
“No, Aunt, I am quite well, truly. I overreacted.” Hebe smoothed her aspect to placid and hauled the bed coverlet to her shoulders. “It was just a cruel…joke, I’m sure, and not intended for me. For who would know I would find the centre? Even I didn’t know.”
“Hmm.” Aunt appeared fierce, despite her rose-pink silk dressing gown. “Well, I am only next door should you need me.” She leaned forward and plumped Hebe’s soft, oversized pillow. “So, anything. Anything at all – nightmares, cup of tea, a chat, you come fetch me. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
And having bestowed a tight hug and a buss to each cheek, Aunt departed the bedchamber, pink silk swishing with efficiency.
Hebe drew a long breath and glared up at the carved cherubs.
“I am not afraid,” she told them decidedly. “It was a vile trick on someone’s part. Probably meant for a stable lad. I am not afraid.” She pursed her lips. “And Tobias is dead,” she added for good measure. “I will sleep the night through and wake refreshed.”
A knock on the door and she groaned. She had no wish to appear ungrateful to Aunt but at this moment, all she wanted was a little time alone, to confront her fright and demand it flee. “Did you forget–”
A face popped around the door. Grinned. Stepped in,uninvited. Shut the door,uninvited. And winked…uninvited.
“Lud, I thought your aunt would never leave.”
“Lord Ernest! I’m… I’m…in bed!” Hebe yanked the coverlet to her chin and gawped as the scoundrel strolled over to her, appearing so artless and unassuming. He’d removed his jacket, olive waistcoat unfastened and cravat loose, dark-grey breeches tucked into shiny top-boots.
Positively indecent.
“So you are, Mrs Locke.” And he sat – no,lounged– on the edge ofherbed, mattress dipping.
Uninvited.
“But… But…”
“I needed to see you.” An arm leaned on the sheets – muslin billowing. “To know that you were unharmed and no longer in fright. It was a grotesque sight for you, Hebe Locke. And as your host, I apologise.”
She sighed and slid her arms out from beneath the coverlet. Why did he have to be sucha well-mannered scoundrel?
“I am grateful for your concern, Lord Ernest. But to be truthful, it wasn’t the sight of blood alone that…”
How could she explain. Need she explain?
But Lord Ernest was sitting so patiently, and she recalled him in the garden talking of crocus and cowslip with a tone as tender as September sunlight. It had calmed her erratic thoughts; the delicate kiss upon her lips had then erased them completely.
A kiss which he must never know had been her first.
“It wasn’t the blood that afeared me, but the…the cruelty. I… This wondrous castle seemed to have cast a spell on me.” She laughed ruefully. “The flowers are flawless and the dogs never bark, the swans so graceful and the stone so warm, yet…”
