‘dear Rose.’ So saying, he made a sudden move from the desk and I took instant flight.
As I ran upstairs, I wished I could confide in someone – and that someone was Wolf Rider.
Hubert’s silent eagerness to cast suspicion on him seemed idiotic. At that time I could not imagine Wolf stealingincriminating photographs or using them to blackmail his distant cousin.
From the little I knew of him, such an idea seemed utterly out of character.
And I thought then, right or wrong, that Wolf Rider was the one man I would trust.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When I collected Thane from Kate’s room, he was lying on the floor near the door, as far away from her as possible. He immediately ran to my side, his expression one of almost human boredom – and relief.
Collins was at my heels. She looked round anxiously and gave the impression of being reluctant to let her charge out of her sight.
Kate laid aside a ladies’ magazine and looked up wearily. ‘Roswal is rather detached now. He was much livelier in the old days. Loved to play and he was so affectionate—’
I felt sorry. She sounded so let down and disappointed, especially as affection was the one thing Thane had in abundance.
‘He used to sleep here, at my bedside, every night,’ she ended sadly.
‘That won’t be possible now, Miss Kate,’ said Collins sternly. ‘Your father has given orders that he is to sleep in the stables.’ And to me, perhaps with a note of triumph, ‘Our two Labradors sleep in the kitchen; they are guard dogs, you know.’
They hadn’t given me that impression, but I nodded. Thane looked at me as if he understood, and I wondered for a moment if I could have him in my room.
‘You are taking him for a walk?’ said Collins.
‘Perhaps I could come with you,’ said Kate eagerly. ‘Poor Roswal must be weary of my long silences and I’m sure I could manage a short walk in the gardens while the sun is shining,’ she added to Collins.
‘Perhaps later, Miss Kate.’
‘Why not today?’ was the weary response, but her protests were cut short as Collins hurried me out of the room. In the corridor she said, as if this was not for Kate’s ears:
‘Quite out of the question, Mrs McQuinn. She is very frail, you know, thinks she is much stronger than she is, as is often the case with her condition. But you would need to take her out in the bath chair, make sure she doesn’t catch a chill. That could be fatal.’
I felt sudden pity for Kate, an unhappy prisoner. ‘Does she ever leave her room?’
‘Sometimes she feels well enough to go downstairs and dine with Mr Staines. But such occasions are getting rarer.’
I thought about Collins as I walked with Thane. She did not seem at all happy, her nervous manner betraying her unease, yet she did not strike me as Hubert’s blackmailer.
Just as I was dismissing her as not nearly confident enough and the first to be struck off my small list, I realised this was a hasty decision. No one was beyond suspicion and often the most surprising and unlikely person can turn out to be a blackmailer, or more often a writer of poison pen letters.
Collins’ actions betrayed her love for Hubert. Had she seen the photographs by accident, then, jealous and angry, simmering with resentment that he had not asked her to marry him and made her mistress of his house, had she decided that blackmail was the answer?
But what had she to gain? Anger and instant dismissal if he ever found out, but she would still have the money which, I suspected, would be a great deal more than her salary. Could it be a last resort, an insurance for her uncertain future and that eventual rainy day when, no longer required as a nurse, their relationship came to an end?
That set me wondering if the payment for my investigation was the mark of an open-handed employer. It did strike me as odd in this large house with its vast estate that there were no other indoor servants. Perhaps a probe in the direction of Mrs Robson, who had been with
As I ran upstairs, I wished I could confide in someone – and that someone was Wolf Rider.
Hubert’s silent eagerness to cast suspicion on him seemed idiotic. At that time I could not imagine Wolf stealingincriminating photographs or using them to blackmail his distant cousin.
From the little I knew of him, such an idea seemed utterly out of character.
And I thought then, right or wrong, that Wolf Rider was the one man I would trust.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When I collected Thane from Kate’s room, he was lying on the floor near the door, as far away from her as possible. He immediately ran to my side, his expression one of almost human boredom – and relief.
Collins was at my heels. She looked round anxiously and gave the impression of being reluctant to let her charge out of her sight.
Kate laid aside a ladies’ magazine and looked up wearily. ‘Roswal is rather detached now. He was much livelier in the old days. Loved to play and he was so affectionate—’
I felt sorry. She sounded so let down and disappointed, especially as affection was the one thing Thane had in abundance.
‘He used to sleep here, at my bedside, every night,’ she ended sadly.
‘That won’t be possible now, Miss Kate,’ said Collins sternly. ‘Your father has given orders that he is to sleep in the stables.’ And to me, perhaps with a note of triumph, ‘Our two Labradors sleep in the kitchen; they are guard dogs, you know.’
They hadn’t given me that impression, but I nodded. Thane looked at me as if he understood, and I wondered for a moment if I could have him in my room.
‘You are taking him for a walk?’ said Collins.
‘Perhaps I could come with you,’ said Kate eagerly. ‘Poor Roswal must be weary of my long silences and I’m sure I could manage a short walk in the gardens while the sun is shining,’ she added to Collins.
‘Perhaps later, Miss Kate.’
‘Why not today?’ was the weary response, but her protests were cut short as Collins hurried me out of the room. In the corridor she said, as if this was not for Kate’s ears:
‘Quite out of the question, Mrs McQuinn. She is very frail, you know, thinks she is much stronger than she is, as is often the case with her condition. But you would need to take her out in the bath chair, make sure she doesn’t catch a chill. That could be fatal.’
I felt sudden pity for Kate, an unhappy prisoner. ‘Does she ever leave her room?’
‘Sometimes she feels well enough to go downstairs and dine with Mr Staines. But such occasions are getting rarer.’
I thought about Collins as I walked with Thane. She did not seem at all happy, her nervous manner betraying her unease, yet she did not strike me as Hubert’s blackmailer.
Just as I was dismissing her as not nearly confident enough and the first to be struck off my small list, I realised this was a hasty decision. No one was beyond suspicion and often the most surprising and unlikely person can turn out to be a blackmailer, or more often a writer of poison pen letters.
Collins’ actions betrayed her love for Hubert. Had she seen the photographs by accident, then, jealous and angry, simmering with resentment that he had not asked her to marry him and made her mistress of his house, had she decided that blackmail was the answer?
But what had she to gain? Anger and instant dismissal if he ever found out, but she would still have the money which, I suspected, would be a great deal more than her salary. Could it be a last resort, an insurance for her uncertain future and that eventual rainy day when, no longer required as a nurse, their relationship came to an end?
That set me wondering if the payment for my investigation was the mark of an open-handed employer. It did strike me as odd in this large house with its vast estate that there were no other indoor servants. Perhaps a probe in the direction of Mrs Robson, who had been with
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