Chapter Twenty-One
During lunch, everyone was interested in hearing about Selena and Dr. Scott’s adventure.
“We lost sight of you through the window after you passed the ruined abbey.” Colonel Blackwood took a spoonful of split pea and ham soup. “Did you make it to the folly?”
“Yes.” Selena stifled a yawn. “I am bone-tired and every muscle in my body aches.”
Mrs. Hillman motioned to Sam to refill her wine glass, then turned to Selena. “Was I right? Did you find a statue of a dragon to show your students?”
“Yes, a lovely one.” Selena buttered a piece of bread. “It’s of Jason poisoning the dragon guarding the golden fleece.”
At the word poisoning, the room went quiet. Everyone stared down at their soup bowls. Selena’s cheeks grew hot as she realized her faux pas.
Mrs. Hillman, apparently noticing the change of mood, took command of the conversation “If you’re thinking of Mrs. Whitlock, I promise you, my friends, she accidentally poisoned herself. And don’t worry. All of the soup came from the same pot, and you saw it served before you.”
“Ditto for the bottle of wine.” Mr. Davis raised his glass and took a sip.
A ripple of laughter went around the table.
As everyone resumed eating and drinking, Selena studied their expressions.
Had Mrs. Whitlock, she wondered, indeed inadvertently poisoned herself?
Was one of these people Maisie or Joe Webster?
Had one of them killed Mr. Clarke and Mrs. Whitlock?
If so, which one of them had written the threatening notes?
To her frustration, it was impossible to tell.
When lunch concluded, Mrs. Hillman proposed that they play cards in the drawing room. Everyone agreed except for Dr. Scott, who said he would prefer to read, and Selena, who wanted to take a nap.
As the pair left the dining room, the doctor nodded cordially to her in parting. No one could have a clue that they had just exchanged passionate kisses a couple of hours before. Selena hugged her secret to herself.
Back in her room, Selena undressed and crawled into bed, sighing with relief when her head hit the pillow. In minutes, she was fast asleep.
*
She knew it was a dream because she and Dr. Scott were inside the Grecian folly again. Except that the temple was immense, with a dozen doorways that opened to beckoning corridors.
Dr. Scott took Selena’s hand and led her down a long, dark hallway. Flames leaped from torches mounted on the stone walls, where there was a seemingly endless row of niches filled with statues of dragons.
“There are so many dragons!” Selena cried. “How are we ever going to find the right one?”
“Maybe we never will.” Dr. Scott stopped and ran a gentle finger across Selena’s lips, an intimate touch that sent sparks careening through her body. “Maybe we aren’t meant to.” With that, he brought his mouth to hers.
Selena wrapped her arms around his neck, rejoicing in his kiss and the feel of his strong body against hers.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips.
“I love you, too,” she said back.
Selena awakened with a gasp, her heart racing. The last glimmer of fading daylight filtered in beneath the curtains. She lay curled on her side, cradling her extra pillow to her chest, and wishing it were Dr. Scott.
The last moment of the dream played again in her mind. “I love you.” Heat bloomed in her face and chest, then radiated down to the deepest part of her being. With it came a realization.
I do love him. And not just in a dream.
Selena knew it seemed absurd. Five days ago, she hadn’t known that Dr. Adrian Scott existed. How could a person fall in love in just four days? And yet she had. Every day since had been a discovery, a series of windows opening to provide insights into the man. And she loved what she had seen.
He had risen from a difficult childhood with few prospects and had made something of himself.
He’d had the financial backing of a patron who had seen his worth, but Dr. Scott wouldn’t have achieved what he had without determination and many years of hard work.
He had dedicated his life to healing the sick.
She had observed his meticulous techniques from the moment of his arrival, from his assessment of Mr. Clarke to his considerate treatment of Mrs. Hillman to his tender ministrations when Selena had burned herself.
She admired him for more than his professional skills, though.
She loved that they had so many things in common.
He was intelligent and shared her love of reading.
They had bonded over their mutual loss, at a young age, of a mother’s love.
She had only caught glimpses of his sense of humor, but she knew it existed.
He was just as tantalized by the unsolved mysteries that lay before them as she was—which thrilled her no end.
He had become such an invaluable ally in her quest to uncover whatever misdeeds might have been happening at Darkmoor Park.
And when it came to kissing, he was the very definition of tenderness and passion. Just thinking about the embraces that they had shared made her cheeks grow even hotter. He had made her feel like the most desirable and cherished woman in the world.
She loved him. Did he love her? Or was the scene in her dream merely a fantasy?
“I kissed you because I couldn’t help myself,” he had said the first time they’d kissed. “If I could have conjured the perfect woman for me, it would be you,” he had told her at the folly.
Yes! Yes. It might not yet be love on his part, but he did care for her. The idea brought a smile to her face, and Selena hugged her pillow again. Unable to help herself, Selena closed her eyes and tried to imagine what the future might hold.
She had hoped to find the perfect man who would understand her desire to work and would encourage it. Now, it seemed that she had met the perfect man. They both had work they enjoyed and valued. Dr. Scott had said her school was a cause he championed.
Her brows drew together as uncertainty rose within her breast. That was an easy thing for him to say, she realized, if, after the holidays, he intended to leave and never see her again.
Surely, Dr. Scott would never give up his medical practice in Bath, a city teeming with thousands of ill people seeking treatments, to remove to Darkmoor Bridge, a village so tiny that one apothecary was able to attend the needs of its population.
Dr. Scott was aware of these problems, she realized.
He had implied that he thought it would be impossible for them to be together.
Some other matter was troubling him as well.
He had mentioned being in a dark place when he’d arrived at Darkmoor Park.
She had no idea what that meant, but the two things must be tied together.
Was he experiencing difficulties at work?
Perhaps a patient was suing him for some reason?
The idea made her heart catch. In any case, it must have been a private issue that he couldn’t talk about, and that he must solve upon his return to Bath.
And Selena couldn’t follow him there. She had told him, plainly and clearly, that her school was her life’s work and a long-held dream come true.
“I cannot imagine my life without it,” she had said.
Perhaps he would take her at her word and never bring up the possibility of a future between them. That would be the gentlemanly thing to do.
Disappointment surged through her, and a lone tear ran down her cheek.
Selena wiped it away and let out a sad sigh.
Perhaps her whirlwind relationship with Dr. Scott could never be more than that, just a brief affair, with no prospects, after all.
She loved him—but she would never tell him.
When the holidays ended, he would go home and she would remain here, where she belonged.
She would never see him again, but she would look back on this interval as a thrilling moment in time, spent with a thrilling man.
In the meantime, there was no use moping in bed about it.
She must be sensible. Selena donned her dress again, reminding herself that the clock was ticking.
The temperature outside had begun to rise.
Soon, the snow would melt and make it possible to travel again.
Before their guests left Darkmoor Park, she and Dr. Scott still had mysteries to solve.
She picked up her pen, sat down at her writing desk, and made a list.
QUESTIONS TO BE ANSWERED
1. Where did Mr. Clarke hide the money?
2. Were Mr. Clarke’s and Mrs. Whitlock’s deaths accidental? Or were they murdered?
3. Was Mrs. Goodwin’s demise at the Worthing Seaside Hotel three months ago related?
4. Were Mr. Clarke’s and Mrs. Whitlock’s deaths connected to the hidden money?
5. Or were all three the marked victims of the vengeful siblings of Clive Webster?
6. If that is so—who is in this house, posing as Maisie and/or Joe Webster?
*
Dinner was a tedious affair. Dr. Scott appeared to be wrapped in his own thoughts throughout the meal. Selena was so distracted herself that she found it difficult to concentrate on the conversations around her.
Mrs. Hillman was wearing the precious brooch that her husband had given her, and Miss Goodwin remarked upon it. “So, you found it, ma’am? Had you just misplaced it after all?”
Mrs. Hillman responded with a tight smile. “Yes, dear. I’m getting older. These things happen.”
Selena understood why Mrs. Hillman had chosen to conceal the truth. To know that her friend Mrs. Whitlock had been a brazen thief must have been heartbreaking. Everyone kept secrets, and that was to be hers.
After dinner, the group removed to the drawing room to play the card game Speculation.
Dr. Scott once again excused himself, explaining that he wasn’t a card player.
Selena, resuming her role as hostess, dutifully brought out the deck of cards and counters.
But as the rounds of the game progressed, she found her mind wandering.