Page 105 of Winterset
“I have my suspicions,” Oliver said.
So did I, and it did not bode well for my own survival. “All right.” I took several deep breaths to stave off my mounting panic. “Everything is going to be all right. Mr. Cavendish was here, but he doesn’t know I’m alive. Nothing needs to change.”
Oliver looked like he might be sick. “He does know.”
“He couldn’t possibly.”
“The night I went to the tavern, the night I saw you in the library, I told Markham that I believed Winterset was haunted. That I’d seen a ghost.”
“That does not necessarily signify anything. I saw you that night, Oliver. You said so many things in your drunken state that did not make sense.”
“It doesn’t matter. What I said made him suspicious. And last night, he sneaked away from the party, into my study, and found a discarded draft of the letter I wrote to you. He knows you are alive, Kate. And he wants you back.”
Dread washed over me in waves. I clutched the edge of the trunk to steady myself.
Oliver crouched in front of me and spoke softly. “I am so sorry. I promised to protect you and then led him directly to you.”
“It is not your fault.”
“Itismy fault,” he said.
I shook my head. “If I hadn’t been in the library that night, you would not have had anything to tell. It was my fault more than yours.”
“No. I was so eager to be befriended by Lord Markham that I was blinded to his true identity. But I should have opened my eyes. I should have seen who he truly was. I am such a fool.”
“Don’t punish yourself too severely. I fell for his act too. Mr. Cavendish, or I suppose it is Lord Markham now, is clever and cunning.”
Oliver stood and began pacing the floor in front of me. “We must do something to ensure your safety,” he said. “We must lock the gates and cover the windows and—”
“That might have worked well to protect mebeforehe knew,” I interrupted, “but not now. If he wants me back, closing the gate won’t stop him from coming to claim me.”
“You are right, of course.” Oliver rubbed the scar on his forehead. “So we must ... we must ...” He let out a frustrated breath when an immediate plan did not reveal itself. He then raked his hands through his hair. And whenthatdidn’t prove successful in coming up with a strategy, he started pacing again.
He began suggesting ideas that ranged from the impossible—bringing the law to bear against Markham—to the absurd—changing my name and appearance and returning as a woman from foreign lands.
I simply listened, knowing what Oliver did not: there was no solution that would allow us to be together safely. No matter what we did, Markham would not give up.
“Oliver,” I finally said, trying to stop him.
“I’ll find a way to fix this.”
“Oliver,” I said again.
“I only need a little time to think of some way to keep you safe here.”
I stood in front of him, stopping him. “Youcan’tkeep me safe here anymore,” I said. “And if I stayed,youwould not be safe. Three men have already died. I will not endanger another.”
“Then ... I will come with you,” he said, his voice desperate.
“I wish you could come with me, but you cannot. Winterset is your home, Oliver. It is your livelihood and your future. No matter how much we might wish otherwise, I have to go, and you have to stay.”
Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but I held up my hand, silencing him. I cared for him too much to allow him to sacrifice his well-being for me. “You said if I ever changed my mind about wanting to stay with you here at Winterset, I need only tell you.”
He stilled, comprehension filling his eyes.
“I want to leave, Oliver. Please, help me.”
Oliver
