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What Zephyr needed was to stay far away from her and the danger she brought to everyone around her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Arriving at Bram’s manor, Cricket stepped from the carriage to find the gardeners cutting hedges and placing weeds into wicker baskets. She’d removed her wig and adjusted the collar of her dress to continue hiding the bruises that were slowly fading. Before leaving the inn, Bram had questioned a few of the people downstairs, to which no one had seen anyone or anything suspicious the prior day when Cricket had received the murderer’s letter.
Bram welcomed her into the sitting room, empty but for Breeta embroidering. The woman glanced up, blinking as she stared up at Cricket. “You’re all right,” she said. “Anika’s been worried sick.”
“Where is she?” Bram asked, removing his hat and placing it on the rack.
“Stress painting somewhere, I believe.” Breeta quickened her pace with the thread.
Bram turned to Cricket. “I’ll tell her you’re here. Please, make yourself at home, and the servants will bring tea shortly.
“Thank you, Bram.” Cricket took a seat opposite Breeta as he ascended the stairs. A few moments later, a servant placed a cup of tea on the table in front of her.
After a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, Breeta finally glanced up from her embroidery, her shoulders rigid as she studied Cricket’s bag. “I’m sorry to hear what happened. Are you returning to the carnival?”
“No, Bram invited me to stay here for a little while.”
Breeta’s lips pinched. “Are you sure that’s wise? I don’t think you should return to the carnival, but—”
“But what, Mother?” Anika snapped as she entered the room.
“I don’t think this is the place for us to have this conversation.” Breeta lowered her voice. “But if you insist, it isn’t appropriate for Cricket to stay here since Bram once courted her.”
“Oh, hush, Mother. She will stay as long as she wishes, and you will make this feel like a home to her.” Anika motioned Cricket to follow her up the stairs. “Now, come on.”
Breeta didn’t argue as she returned to her embroidery, but her shoulders didn’t relax.
Cricket wondered if she should’ve just remained at the inn after all or at least tried to find another one while still helping Bram in whatever way she could.
“It’s quite obvious your mother doesn’t want me here,” Cricket said softly as they reached the top of the stairs to walk down the long hallway.
Bram slipped out of the bedroom, straightening the cuff of his sleeve. He kissed Anika on the cheek as he explained, “I’m going to report the new note to the authorities. We’ll discuss matters further when I return.”
As Bram disappeared down the hallway, Anika opened the door at the opposite end. “This room is already prepared for you.”
Cricket stepped inside and took in the dancing portraits hanging on the wall, the dark purple silk sheets on the bed, the ivory writing desk tucked in the corner—all her favorite things. Her lips tilted up at the edges as she rested her bag beside the desk. “How long have you had this room ready for me?”
Anika grinned. “After I found out you were still alive, I had it done this way for if you ever needed it. This house has so many unnecessary rooms that surely we can spare one for our dearest friend.”
Cricket’s smile fell as the images of Juniper’s broken body drifted through her mind like a lone ship lost at sea. “I don’t see how you or Bram would want me here after what happened to Juniper. Wherever I go, something terrible happens. Bram seemed to have already told you about the letter I received at the inn. What if a letter is left here, or worse, a body? Aren’t you frightened?”
“None of this is your fault.” Anika pressed a hand to Cricket’s shoulder, reassuring her. “Servants will be on duty every night outdoors and indoors. If anyone slinks onto our property, attempting to cause you harm, I have a gun, and I will use it. I’m quite a good shot. Bram taught me how to use it when we were searching for Clancy.”
Cricket smiled. “Perhaps you can show me after the child is born.”
Anika placed her hands on her hips. “I’m perfectly fine to shoot, and I’ll teach you today. But first, I have a question for you. What about Zephyr? Are you truly not going to tell him you’re here?”
“No. Bram will let him know I’m safe.” Cricket bit her lip, not wanting to think about Zephyr now or remember the guttural sounds he’d made when discovering his sister’s slain body.
“I know you have a heart that always wants to run away, but I think he would prefer you run toward him. Especially now. Wouldn’t you?”
Cricket honestly didn’t know if she would or if she would blame the person and want to be left alone. Or perhaps she would want to be held as she cried, but either way, she didn’t want Zephyr to worry about her. When Cricket remained silent, Anika nodded and said, “Come on. Let’s paint a while, and then we can go shoot.”
Cricket was relieved by the momentary escape as they entered the room across the hall. Canvases decorated its entirety—some finished, others halfway painted or barely holding a few strokes of color. Even as children, Anika could never focus on only one art piece. She would bounce between canvases but always completed what she’d started, regardless of how long it took. The days when Cricket would dance as Anika painted seemed long ago now.
“I want to show you something.” Anika gestured to the other side of the room, where a large canvas hung in the center of the wall. It was the art piece that she’d painted of Cricket in mid-pirouette while dressed in a lavender dress from when they were both thirteen years old.
