Chapter 15
TO ALEX’S SLIGHT disappointment, Tulip did turn away and marched to the window to look out of it. “I always thought you were an extremely handsome man,” she said, her gaze intent upon the view, “but you manage to get even handsomer by the day. Why is that, do you think?”
“Is it not obvious, Tulip?”
She still had her back to him, but nodded. “I suppose. But is it not too soon to feel a thing so deeply? To form an abiding and powerful connection within a matter of days, barely a fortnight, and not even a full month yet?”
“A bond of love,” he said softly.
She nodded again. “Yes, that. I adore your intelligence and your strength. Your charm and quiet wit. I love that you hold me in your arms each night, and include me in your tours of the Davenport farms. I love that we are a part of each other’s lives.”
“So do I, Tulip.”
She turned back to face him now that he had changed into dry clothes and was about to don a pair of dry boots. “Alex, I meant to tell you this after tonight’s dinner party…but I think I must say it now.”
“What, sweetheart?” He sank onto a chair and was in the midst of donning the first of his dry boots when he heard her take a deep breath.
Was she going to reveal more of her conversation with Mrs. Granger? Or mention Ernfield again? His heart had taken a sudden lurch when he saw the head butler standing on the terrace beside her as he’d slogged out of the salt marsh.
No reason why apprehension had surged through him.
Just instinct.
He now understood why.
The man was a killer.
What would Ernfield have done if Carver’s two workers had not been keeping watch over Tulip?
Blessed saints.
He did not want to think of it.
Tulip took another deep breath. “I love you, Alex. I love you so much.”
Her words jarred him out of his dismal thoughts, but it took him a moment to realize what she had just said.
“And I am fine with your not feeling the same yet,” she hastily added when he did not immediately respond with a similar admission to her.
“I know it is too soon. But after Mrs. Granger’s near drowning, I could not hide my feelings any longer.
Whatever happens next, I do not want you ever to doubt that I love you. ”
A slow smile spread across his lips.
I love you.
She had no idea how desperately he’d longed to hear those sweet words tumble from her lips.
Lord, he loved her so much.
And hide her feelings?
Tulip was an open book.
Her beautiful smiles, her welcoming response to his touch, the way she looked at him in gentle adoration.
She made him feel so good.
He hastily donned his second boot and rose to take her in his arms. “Tulip…sweetheart…”
A pounding at the door interrupted his next words, which would have been to admit he loved her, too.
But the pounding was persistent.
He hurriedly opened the door and saw one of the maids assigned to watch over Mrs. Granger looking quite overset as she bobbed a hasty curtsy. “Oh, Your Grace! Mrs. Granger is awake and insisting on talking to you and Her Grace. She won’t lie still and says it is urgent.”
He took Tulip’s hand. “Yes, we’ll come at once. Thank you, Mary.”
They raced down the stairs, then along the narrow hall leading to the servants quarters, and burst into their housekeeper’s room.
The maids had changed her out of her wet clothes and into her nightgown and robe.
The poor woman looked quite frail as she struggled to sit up. “Help me, Hortense,” she said to one of the beefy maids.
“Aye, Mrs. Granger. There ye go.”
Alex dismissed the maids once they had made Mrs. Granger comfortable. “But stay close, for I’ll have you return shortly to watch over her.”
“Aye, Your Grace,” they said in unison and scampered out.
Alex closed the door after them, and motioned for Tulip to take the lone, rickety chair beside the housekeeper’s bed. “Who did this to you, Mrs. Granger?”
Tears ran down her cheeks. “It was Ernfield.”
“I knew it,” Tulip mumbled, then immediately shook her head in dismay, obviously realizing she should not have said anything. “Do go on, Mrs. Granger. Tell us what happened.”
“I was overset after our morning conversation,” she said, her gaze on Tulip.
“I ran out into the garden, but hadn’t gone far before I realized I should not be seen crying by the staff.
It isn’t seemly. So I made my way to the salt marshes, intending to walk off my distress.
I was only there a few minutes and had every intention of returning to the house because the tide was coming in and I felt my boots getting wet.
Suddenly, Ernfield was there, cudgel in hand, and staring at me with such a demonic look upon his face. ”
“So, you turned and ran?” Tulip asked.
She nodded. “But before I could take a step, he hit me across the back of my head. I fell to my knees. I was too dazed to scream, although I tried. But I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt myself passing out.
He lifted me over his shoulder and carried me deeper into the marshes.
The tide was coming in. I started to struggle, but he tossed me onto the ground, laughing as I landed face first in the mud.
He must have struck me again to make certain I would not get up.
That’s the last I remember until waking up just now. ”
“Why do you think he came after you?” Alex asked, because there had to be a connection to Ernfield’s sudden determination to be rid of her.
“I saw him earlier in the day remove something from one of the decorative vases in the parlor. I didn’t see what it was, only that it was something small that he immediately tucked into his pocket. Perhaps two small things because I heard a light, tinkling sound, like glasses clinking together.”
Tulip stared at Alex.
“The vials,” she mouthed.
He nodded.
“I asked him what he was doing,” Mrs. Granger continued, “but he said nothing and merely strode out. The next time I saw him, he was coming at me with a cudgel. I think he is deranged and dangerous.”
“We know,” Tulip said, and Alex sent her a silent warning not to say more.
He wanted to hear the housekeeper’s own words and not have Tulip commiserating and telling the woman what they knew.
But he also wanted to learn more about Martha’s death which he expected was indeed by slow poisoning. “Tell me about Martha Carver. She had come to Thornwycke Hall and got sick shortly thereafter.”
“Yes,” she said with a nod, casting them both a look of confusion because she had to be wondering why they were asking about Carver’s daughter. “It was such a sad time for poor Mr. Carver. He was beside himself with grief.”
“I remember,” Tulip said. “I understand you had food sent to her daily.”
She nodded. “Oddly, it was Ernfield who suggested it. How could he be so kind one moment and then completely mad now?”
“Tell me about that arrangement…the food delivery. Take me through every step,” Alex said, bending on one knee beside Tulip as they listened to their housekeeper speak from her bed.
“Well, Mrs. Crabbe prepared the daily meals and stowed them in a basket. I would take the basket to Ernfield who then arranged for one of the stable boys to take it down to Martha’s house.
She lived with her father in Burnham, as you know.
Her father would return the basket the following morning and Mrs. Crabbe would load it up again.
That’s all I can tell you. It was a simple arrangement, each of us doing our little part to try to restore her to health. ”
“Thank you, Mrs. Granger. That’s very helpful. Was there one stable boy in particular assigned the chore?”
“Yes, young Edward Wilcox. Poor lad. He was a little slow-witted but so proud he’d been given this responsibility.”
“Edward?” Tulip gasped, and then turned to Alex with a groan.
“How utterly, utterly stupid of me never to make the connection. The lad died shortly after Martha passed on. We all thought it might have been of the same wasting sickness and he might have caught it from Martha. But it turned out not to be contagious because no one else suffered similar symptoms afterward.”
He took hold of Tulip’s hand, hoping to soothe her.
They were dealing with a madman here, one crazed enough to kill an innocent boy.
Mrs. Granger now realized the purpose of his questions and gasped. “Oh, no! Do you think Ernfield killed poor Edward? And Martha? No…oh, no. And none of us ever had a suspicion. Is it possible he harmed your grandfather, too?”
“Not only my grandfather, but the next three dukes in the line of succession,” Alex said. “But start with my grandfather. Why mention him when he was already old and frail?”
She let out a breath. “Because Ernfield brought up warm milk and biscuits for your grandfather nightly. To me, it appeared there was a friendship between the two of them that I thought was quite endearing. The old duke and his ever-faithful servant fondly reminiscing about their younger days. This is why I was surprised when your grandfather started talking to me, confessing things to me, and not to Ernfield.”
“Yes, about that…what did he confess, exactly?” Alex asked. “And did his confession have anything to do with your aunt, Elspeth?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes, how did you know? Oh, your wife must have told you what we discussed.”
“I already suspected something before you said anything to my wife this morning. Mrs. Granger, I am fairly certain everything that has happened at Thornwycke is connected to Elspeth. What did my grandfather tell you?”
“He did not confess to her murder, if that is what you are thinking.”
He was, but did not allow it to show. “I am merely trying to collect information and assess the facts. Do go on. My grandfather did not confess to her murder, and…”
“Quite the opposite,” she insisted. “I think he loved her and was considering marrying her.”
Tulip turned to him, her eyes wide. “Marriage?”
Alex’s stomach was now in a roil.
What was going on here?
This was turning what he’d been told about the old man upside down.