Page 68 of The Premonition at Withers Farm
George.
He sat stiffly beside her in his carriage, ignoring the wheezing clack of a passing motorcar. She had the fleeting thought that George Wasziak was too old-fashioned to own a motorcar. He would use a horse and buggy until his gravestone boasted his name.
Perliett linked her hands together to disguise her trembling fingers. What had upset her so much more about Millie’s death than Eunice’s? She had studied Eunice’s body. Honestly, she’d beenintriguedby the mystery of it, despite the awful circumstances. But Millie? Perhaps it was because she’d just been on Perliett’s porch. Last night. They’d discovered the dead robin. She’d been so adamant they were in danger.
She had been so right.
“When you return home, I would recommend you have some chamomile tea with lavender. It will help calm your nerves.”
“I know,” Perliett responded to George with a curt nod.
“I could administer a small dose of sleeping powders if you—”
“If I were a porcelain doll,George, I may welcome this sort of delicate attention, but really, I’m made of far stiffer material.” It annoyed Perliett when her voice broke. Tears were her nemesis, but when they did come, at least she and George were in the privacy of the carriage. The tears were impossible to stop.
“Mmm.” His low growl was almost mesmerizing and insinuated he’d noticed her chin quivering.
George snapped the reins, and the horse trotted faster. Soon the Van Hilton home came into view. Its two-story white structure, front porch laden with massive potted ferns... it was home. Yet it felt strangely empty as George steered the buggy into the drive.
Her mother was absent. Where, Perliett did not know. But this should solve any worry that George would stay and belabor them with instructions for Perliett to follow, as if it were she who’d been attacked and not poor, dead Millie Withers.
“My mother is not home. I can tell because the front door is closed. She always leaves it open during the day if she’s home. So, you may drop me off here. I will see myself inside.” Perliett swung toward the outside of the buggy, but George’s hand on her arm stopped her.
She turned, giving him her full attention in spite of herself.
His black eyes had softened, only they were edged with concern and not a little caution. Even the hand on her, while firm, was gentle. Coaxing almost. No, pleading. She wasn’t accustomed to this side of George Wasziak.
“Perliett ... I don’t feel it is safe to leave you here alone.”
She swallowed back her nervousness. “I’ll be fine.” She waved off his concern with a tremor in her voice. Her justification was paltry and silly in light of what had just happened. Foolhardy, really.
George shifted in his seat and it brought him closer to her. He maintained his grave expression, only somehow he seemed more vulnerable. It was as if he was wrestling with something.
“We don’t know who is responsible for the Withers sisters’ deaths. But Mrs. Withers is correct in that you are similar in appearance to them. If the killer is selecting a victim merely based on appearances, then you are likely to be on that list.”
“This isn’t a new concept, George.” Perliett tempered her voice. He seemed to care—at least in this moment—and as long as he wasn’t being arrogant, she could appreciate human kindness.
“I realize that, but I’m not certain you are aware of the dangers of men.”
There it was. That insult that her womanly constitution made her somehow innocent of all concepts—especially medically. “Of course I am!”
“Are you?”
“I know what atrocities can be committed against a woman’s wishes.”
George colored, and she was surprised at that. For a second, he blustered then shook his head. “That’s—that’snotwhat I was implying, though potentially accurate. I was referring to man’sinnatewickedness.”
“Men in general terms, or do you include women?” Perliett couldn’t help it. Baiting George was what she was best at.
He smiled grimly. “Contrary to what people wish to hear, I believe we all have a nature to do evil.”
“Even babies?” Perliett challenged with a teasing smile, thankful for the distraction.
“Even babies.”
“Heartless brute.” She had no qualms calling the man out for his condemnation of an innocent soul.
George drew back slightly, quirking a black eyebrow. “You’ve never seen an infant scream in a fit of anger?”
