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Chapter eleven
A Secret Inquiry
Aknockatthe door made her startle and reach for the dagger hidden in her skirts.
Robert McCrae came into the room like a man setting off for war, his posture tautly composed and his expression grim. “How is she?”
“I have given her something that induces a deep sleep.” He propped his rear against the clothes chest and indicated for Lucinda to have the chair.
“How much did she tell you?”
“Everything. It can be helpful to talk, at least for some.”
“You mentioned other cases?”
“Yes.”
“Other women who have been ambushed and attacked like my Rosie? What kind of man would do such a thing?” He slammed his fist against the side of the chest, winced and glanced over at Rosalind who blissfully slept on.
“She will not rouse for quite some time,” Lucinda reassured.
“That may cause a problem. She needs to get back to my uncle’s house. My aunt will be expecting her.”
“Could you not say she has come down with a sudden vomiting illness and is too ill to return?”
“I will have to tell my uncle the truth of course. I took his barge which his boatman will report. There is nothing you can do without my uncle knowing you have done it, but if Aunt Agnes found out, she would do everything in her power to evict Rosie from their house.” He pulled a face not unlike someone sucking a raw onion. “My cousins are somewhat plain and stout. They have never forgiven Rosie for her beauty and do their best to make her life unpleasant. If they could ruin her prospects of marriage, it would give them great delight.”
“Then they shall not have that satisfaction. I am the only other person who knows, and I will not speak a word.”
“Those other women at Whitefriars?”
“Can all keep a secret, I assure you.”
“What were you doing pray tell? It may be my eyes were misleading me, but it looked like you were teaching a fencing class.”
Lucinda shifted in her seat, expecting his usual derision. “I have been teaching them how to fight. And before you scoff or mock me, you should be aware, some of those women were also victims of despicable acts that I suspect were perpetrated by the same man.”
His brows drew closer, his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders hitched at her suggestion. “What makes you think that?”
“The method. There are certain particulars…”
“Then perhaps you are right. A woman should know how to protect herself.”
McCrae’s unexpected reaction emboldened her to broach the matter which really preyed on her mind. “There is something you should know. Something different about the attack on Rosalind.” McCrae straightened his back and gripped the sides of the chest where he was perched. “I am wondering if whoever did this only had Rosalind in mind as his victim, or if perhaps he was using her to get at someone else.”
“Like me?”
“I was thinking more of your uncle.” He lifted his head sharply. “Does your sister go out much on her own?”
“Only to visit me…”
” I suspect he must have been following her, must have known what you were doing today, or meant to be doing, for he seemed to act as if he had plenty of time. You see, he did not undress the other women. Removing clothing delays the act. And lastly there is this.” She got up and pointed to the missing space on the bookshelf. “Rosalind said he took one of your folios. The Spanish Tragedy she thought. A play of murderous revenge I believe?”
After flicking through the row of folios he leaned his hands on the desk, jaw clenched, staring at the gap on the bookshelf. Half-closing his eyes he muttered an oath. “Christ’s blood. I think you are right.” He steered her back to the chair and knelt in front of her placing his hands firmly on her knees. “You must not utter a word of this to anyone. My Uncle is involved in negotiating the peace terms with the Spanish. The King is insistent on peace at any cost, but there are those who feel we Scottish have betrayed the English, and we should not sit at the table with the Spanish Dogs.” Abruptly he stood up and began to pace the small room. “I have one more thing to beg of you. I must find my uncle and tell him of the danger. Could you, would you stay here for the night?”
The night? Here in this room. His room. The room where it happened. No wonder he felt the need to beg. She rose to her feet bringing them abruptly face to face as he turned in his pacing. She was suddenly all too aware of his proximity. Her heart beat faster, and she felt the slow burning creep of a flush around her neck and throat. She looked up into his pleading eyes, noting the sea-green was dulled to a murky grey.
“I will stay as long as I am needed.”
