“What are you implying, Miss Danworth?” Giles asked. “Really, I will need more clues. I am not toying with anybody’s reputation.”
Miss Danworth handed him the note. Or, shoved it at him would be a better description. He unfolded it and read it, taking in a sharp breath. He instantly understood the scheme, though he would not have credited Sir John with such cunning.
“She is not such a fool as to meet you, I hope you understand. I am only surprised by this, Lord Grayson. I did not think you an absolute reprobate.”
“Before you continue with your condemnations, this is not my hand,” Giles said. “I did not write this. My God, where has Miss Dell gone?”
“Out of your reach,” Miss Danworth said, though her confidence in her recent accusations seemed to falter.
“This was not written by me,” Giles said. “It was written by Sir John Kullehamnd. He is the real Veritas.”
“Sir John? The scholarly gentleman who came to see the Palaskar collection?”
“The very one,” Giles said. “Miss Dell is in danger. She does not know the facts—I know Sir John was in possession of John Hill’s diary because I took it and Kullehamnd is Swedish for hill and revenge.”
“Sir John?” Miss Danworth said, appearing mystified. “John Hill? Revenge?”
“I suspect he plans a kidnapping. Go to her and make sure she stays well away from the garden. Alert her mother and brother. I will answer this note and deal with Sir John myself.”
It seemed Miss Danworth had finally comprehended the real case of the situation. She nodded and hurried away. Giles set off toward the garden.
*
Kitty heard thedoor to the retiring room swing open. She dabbed at her eyes and turned her head away. She had closeted herself in the very last alcove of the cavernous room. She’d already told the maid who attempted to attend her that she suffered allergies as a cause of her dripping eyes, the most ridiculous story in the world. She did not wish for anybody else to see her cry.
“Miss Dell! Where are you?”
It was Miss Danworth come to comfort her. It was kind of the lady, but Kitty did not think she could be comforted at this moment. She had done the stupidest thing in the world. She had fallen in love with a man who did not love her. Worse than that, the gentleman did not have even theslightestregard for her. She’d been the mouse who played with a cat and could not understand why it was dying. It had always been in the cat’s nature to toy with its prey.
“There you are,” Miss Danworth said, coming round the corner. She sat next to Kitty on the peach velvet sofa and said, “Thank goodness you are safe.”
“Of course I am,” Kitty sniffled. “I told you I would not meet Lord Grayson in the garden.”
“The note was not from Lord Grayson, I am convinced of his veracity. He says it was written by Sir John to lure you out there and you are in very much danger. Something about a diary and John Hill and Kullehamnd meaning hill and revenge in Swedish.”
“Kullehamnd? Is that what it means?” Kitty said, horror creeping into her voice.
“I wished to make sure you were safe in here before I go to find your mother and brother. Lord Grayson even went so far as to speculate that Sir John may have kidnapping on his mind.” Miss Danworth paused, then said softly, “Though Sir John? Kidnapping?”
“It was Sir John all along!” Kitty cried. “It really was. No wonder he was so forceful with me and came to my father for my hand. My grandfather and Martin Folkes kept John Hill from the society. Therefore, my dowry would have been John Hill’s revenge!” Kitty paused, her thoughts racing. “But who is he really? Why does he seek revenge? Perhaps he is a grandson of John Hill?”
Miss Danworth patted Kitty’s hand. “I cannot claim to make heads nor tails of it, I am only glad you are safe.”
“But do not you see? Sir John must be mad! He had a diary bound in human skin!”
Miss Danworth recoiled at the idea. “I am almost afraid to hear further of this bizarre circumstance,” she said. “Stay here and I will fetch your mama. She will know what to do next.”
Miss Danworth hurried from the retiring room.
Kitty sat for a moment, the facts all falling into place as if the bits and pieces flew from various directions to finally come together in a cohesive whole.
She leapt to her feet. Lord Grayson was in very grave danger. Whether or not Sir John was some relation to John Hill, he was most certainly mad. A madman never stopped to consider the outcomes of his actions. Rationality fled and wild ideas reigned. Anyone stepping in the way of a madman’s plot would be dispatched.
Of course, that was precisely who Sir John was. How did she not see it? The man did not entertain anything that did not suit him. He just plowed on.
She must go out and attempt to stop whatever was about to happen.
She fled past the maid, who would by now be convinced that it was Kitty herself who was mad.
