The Vanishing at Loxby Manor by Abigail Wilson (grave mercy .TXT) 📕

it back behind the wardrobe. If Mrs. Cavanagh had killed before, she wouldn’t hesitate to do so again. If only Piers and Avery hadn’t left when they did.

I strong-armed Snowdrop against my chest and turned to leave. My feet slid across the floor as I made my way to the door,but I never looked back toward Mr. Cavanagh’s open doorway.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Breathless, I turned into the hollow gaze of Mr. Cavanagh’s night nurse, standing in the shadows of the doorway.

It took me a full second to regain my heartbeat as well as my addled thoughts. “I came to retrieve the cat. The poor dearhad gone and got herself trapped in here. I’m on my way out with her now.”

“Shhh.” The nurse pointed behind her. “You’ll wake him.” The quiver in her voice was unmistakable.

I nodded, anxious to make my escape, when I heard a grunt from inside the room. “Is that you, Miss Halliwell?”

I closed my eyes for a brief second, wishing I could sink into the floor. Slowly I set Snowdrop on the ground. “Yes, Mr. Cavanagh.I didn’t mean to wake you.” I angled around the nurse just enough to see the darkened figure move on the bed. His hand wasat his hair, smoothing and combing.

I took a step back. “Please excuse me for disturbing your sleep. I’ll be on my way at once.”

“Don’t disappear, not yet at least. I have something to say to you.” His head pivoted in the darkness, his voice directedat his nurse. “You may leave us until I call for you.”

I watched the nurse scuttle away from the door. Then I caught a flutter in the moonlight, like Mr. Cavanagh had flicked hishands in the air.

“Come closer.” His voice was demanding but not unkind.

Confusion weighed my steps as I approached the bed. Though Mr. Cavanagh and I had grown close over the past few weeks, I swallowed hard.

I moved in the darkness until my thighs pressed against the soft edge of the bed, my hand retreating to the post. “It wasabominable for me to wake you this way.”

He cleared his throat. “If it eases your conscience, I do understand why. We all know Mrs. Cavanagh cannot abide cats.”

I could hear Mrs. Cavanagh in the next room and the hairs on my arm pinged to attention.

Mr. Cavanagh cleared his throat. “Tell me, did you write to your brother in America?”

For a moment I scrambled for words. “Yes, of course.”

“And included my letter? When was it sent?”

My eyes still trained on the connecting room, I nodded. “Yes. Weeks ago.”

“Good, I—”

The sound of the door cut off Mr. Cavanagh’s sentence and we both turned to see Mrs. Cavanagh holding a candle that illuminatedher startled face. “Why, Miss Halliwell . . .”

I shook my head as I clutched my chest. “Please, excuse my intrusion. I heard your cat and it brought me into the connectingroom. I didn’t mean to wake either of you. I shall be on my way at once.”

Her gaze crept from me to Mr. Cavanagh then back to me, like an animal waiting to pounce on its prey. “I don’t see any cat.”

I glanced at the floor around my feet. “Oh dear. She must have run off.”

Mrs. Cavanagh tilted her head. “Just so.” She watched me a moment, the candlelight flickering in her narrow eyes. “Unableto sleep?”

I wished I could see Mr. Cavanagh’s face in the shadows of the bed, but he’d slipped into the clutches of darkness.

“Yes, I . . .”

Her tone turned accusatory. “I think it best you return to you room.”

My skin tingled. “I understand.”

A tight smile creased her lips.

For a breathless moment I considered laying my suspicions before Mr. Cavanagh, but I had no proof of Mrs. Cavanagh’s involvement,and my presumptions stemmed from nothing more than an article of clothing and a feeling that was growing by the second.

*  *  *

I locked my door that night, plagued by fear and questions surrounding Mrs. Cavanagh. Could she be the fifth member of thesecret society? Was she playing a deep game? Those thoughts, coupled with anxiety for Piers, kept me from sleeping.

Morning, however, brought its own problems. Baker burst into the drawing room, a salver in his hand. “This just came for you,Miss.”

I slipped the letter from the silver platter with a great deal of trepidation. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, and forwhatever reason, that frightened me. “Thank you, Baker.”

I waited for him to leave before breaking the wax seal.

Miss Halliwell,

Rest assured, Piers Cavanagh is alive and well, but he did take a ball to the right shoulder, inhibiting him from writing this very letter. The doctor says it was a clean wound and he should recover nicely, but he shall be laid up here in Eastward for a bit. Hugh Daunt has offered his services should you need anything in the days to come as he is returning to Rushridge and will deliver this letter to Loxby on his way home.

Your servant,

Tony Shaw

I folded the letter closed, my heart constricting. If Piers was too injured to ride home, it was more than a simple wound.Tony had no doubt written me the letter to belay my fears, but nothing could stop them now, not until I laid eyes on Piersonce again. All this time I’d been pushing him away, and now I couldn’t imagine life without him in it.

Chapter 28

I didn’t see one member of the Cavanagh family the rest of the day. That is, until I stumbled upon Mrs. Cavanagh on my wayto bed.

She’d stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Care to join me in the kitchen for a bite to eat?”

I touched my forehead, dread climbing my arms. “I find I’m a bit tired this evening.”

She didn’t move. “I have something I wish to say to you.” Then she glanced behind her, her fingers wrapping tightly aboutthe banister. “But not here.”

One by one my muscles tensed as my thoughts dropped into a muddle of fear and expectation. How could I refuse my host? Butshould I take one solitary step with a possible murderer? Of course the servants were only one scream away. What could