Page 64 of Winterset
“I should think she is in the attic.”
“She is not,” I said.
Her brow furrowed in surprise, and then she moved more quickly than I thought her capable up the servants’ staircase to Miss Lockwood’s bedchamber in the attic. She took in the room, then turned to me.
“Kate would not leave Winterset,” she insisted.
“All evidence supports the contrary.” I wanted to ride out in search of Miss Lockwood and offer her my protection, as I should have done last night, but where would I search? She’d evaded my discovery in this one small house. I had no hope of finding her in a large country. I needed Mrs. Owensby’s help. “I beg of you, Mrs. Owensby, if you knowanything, you must tell me. She could be in danger. I only want to help.”
“I know nothing, Mr. Jennings. Isaidnothing.”
“Then how do you explain her sudden disappearance?” I asked.
“I would askyouthe same question.”
“You thinkIgave my knowledge of her away?”
“I don’t know, sir. But Idoknow Kate, and she would not leave Winterset willingly.”
I sank to the edge of the bed, bracing my elbows on my knees, and ran my hands through my hair. “Does Bexley know about Miss Lockwood’s hiding here?” I looked up at her.
“Of course he does,” she said.
“And you trust him?”
“I do, sir. With my life. Kate trusts him too.”
“So where is she, then? I have searched everywhere within these walls.”
“I don’t know, but the more earnestly you search, the more ardently she’ll hide. Kate is quite stubborn.”
“I am beginning to see that,” I mumbled to myself. “So I should let her continue hiding, then?” Ludicrous.
“No, sir. I am only saying that Kate has never liked being forced to do anything. I would think that includes coming out of hiding. You couldenticeher to reveal herself.”
“How would I do that?” I laughed humorlessly. “Should I invite her to dinner?”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
I’d been jesting, but it wasn’t the worst idea in the world. If I treated her as my guest instead of an intruder, perhaps she would reveal herself to me. It was worth a try.
“All right, Mrs. Owensby. We will do as you say.” I instructed her to air out the bedchambers and put fresh linens on every bed. A guest could not sleep in the attic, after all. For dinner, I requested that she cook Miss Lockwood’s favorite foods and lay an extra place setting on the table.
She did as I said, but Miss Lockwood did not join me that night.
After dinner, I asked about Miss Lockwood’s favorite song and played the piece on the pianoforte. It was a soothing serenade that I hoped she would find inviting. But still, she made no appearance.
And as I lay in bed that night, surrounded by all that oppressive silence, I couldn’t help feeling that Winterset had lost its soul.
Kate
I’d slept two nights inthe potting shed and could not do another. I was cold and hungry and defeated. Mr. Jennings had won. I had no choice now but to beg his mercy, not for myself—I was already condemned—but for Mrs. Owensby and Bexley. They were blameless and should not be punished.
I waited for the sun to crest the horizon, then crept out of the cramped shed and started across the courtyard for the manor.
When I slipped inside, the house was quiet and still, so I ran up the grand staircase and to the attic to ready myself. Mr. Jennings likely would not care what I looked like, but I wished to look presentable and gather my most important belongings: Father’s last letter to me and a miniature of Mama. I doubted Mr. Jennings would grant me time to do so before either kicking me out or calling the constable.
My hands trembled as I combed the tangles from my hair.
