Page 25 of Winterset
I sketched the remaining petals and leaf and was adding cross-hatch shading to add depth and dimension when I heard the lower door open and footsteps ascending the attic stairs.
I froze.
I was expecting Mrs. Owensby, but itcouldbe Mr. Jennings. It was too late to make any movement.
I eyed the open door between my bedchamber and the decoy priest hide, wishing I’d kept it closed.
“Kate?” Mrs. Owensby called quietly, and I exhaled in relief that it was her. A moment later, she peeked inside my room, sparing only a second to frown at the open door. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice scratchy from lack of water. “What time is it?” I asked.
“Past luncheon. You must be starving. Hurry, and you can have a change of scenery and eat lunch in the kitchen. Mr. Jennings and his manservant are out of residence, surveying the property and tenant cottages on horseback. They won’t return for hours.”
Famished, I quickly put on my slippers and followed Mrs. Owensby down two flights of stairs to the kitchen. A plate of finger sandwiches and fruit was already waiting for me on the table. I bit into a cucumber sandwich and closed my eyes. Food had never tasted so good.
As I ate, Mrs. Owensby and Bexley huddled over me like protective parents, their faces concerned.
“What is it?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, Kate,” Mrs. Owensby said. “I don’t think we can keep up this charade.”
My pulse picked up. “Has something happened? Is he suspicious?”
“No, but you must agree that things have not gone according to plan.”
I set aside my food, considering this for a moment. “Actually, save having to sit still in such small places for long periods of time, I think things are going quite well. Mr. Jennings has not found me, nor does he seem suspicious.”
“Did you not hear how he questioned me yesterday when he saw your portrait? Heiscurious about you, Kate.”
“I heard him ask a few questions, but you commanded the conversation brilliantly. Thanks to your quick thinking, Mr. Jennings believes I am dead.”
“For now,” she said. “But you already nearly exposed yourself when you giggled.”
“That was one mistake. I will not make another.”
“Oh, you will not? You were sitting at the table in plain view when Charlie came down the stairs yesterday. And today, I found you sitting in the priest hide with the door open.” She gave me a displeased look.
I trained my gaze on my plate, guilty.
“Kate, we have done our best, but he seems in no hurry to leave. I think—wethink ...” Mrs. Owensby glanced at Bexley no doubt to bolster her confidence. “There is a better option than hiding. We think you should reveal yourself to Mr. Jennings.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am quite serious. Mr. Jennings seems like a decent fellow. I believe he will prove to be a friend, not a foe.”
“Youbelieve,” I said, “but you cannot be certain. None of us can. We have only just met Mr. Jennings. And as you well know, any man can put on a pleasant facade for a few days.” Longer if it suited his interests.
She gave me a sympathetic look of understanding but continued. “You did not see the way Mr. Jennings stared at your portrait yesterday. He was quite taken with you, Kate.”
“That hardly recommends him.” I daresay it did the opposite.
Mrs. Owensby’s gaze softened. “Not all men are abhorrent, Kate. I have a good feeling about Mr. Jennings.”
“A good feeling? How so? This is the same man who shirked his obligations to Winterset these past two years. Mrs. Owensby, you have a gift for seeing the best in people, but in this situation, I must beg you to see reason.”
“And I must begyouto do the same. Hiding from Mr. Jennings forever is an impossible endeavor. If you reveal yourself to him now, you can appeal to his sympathetic sensibilities and request his assistance in relocating to someplace safer.”
My mind spun in disbelief, and I looked at Bexley. “Do you truly agree?”
