Page 43 of Winterset

“But, Arthur, what if—what if he thought those people were the Queen’s spies or her assassins? What if he thought they were going to hurt him? Can you swear that he would not kill them to keep them from harming him—and you?”

Arthur looked troubled. “Well…no, miss, I might not could swear to it. But he’s been peaceful the last few days. I told you. He thinks this angel told him to draw these other marks on his hands, and he feels safer.”

Anna bit her lip. She wished Arthur’s answer had been more reassuring. Of course he would not think Charles had done anything so terrible; he was devoted to the man. Nor did she really think that her uncle was capable of murder. Still, there was a niggling little worry in the back of her brain. She wasn’t sure exactly what Uncle Charles might do when he was in the grip of one of his delusions.

“Keep a careful eye on him, won’t you?” Kit said to the servant.

“I always do that, sir,” Arthur told him somewhat reproachfully.

“I know you do. You are excellent with him. But we need to make especially sure that he doesn’t go out anywhere, that no one sees him.”

“Nobody comes this way, sir. Most people don’t like the woods, and you can’t get to the top of the tor this way, anyway. The time or two anybody’s shown up, trying to climb the tor, they haven’t seen him, and I’ve sent them on their way. He always hides if he hears voices. You know how he is.” He nodded at them gravely. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of him. Nobody’s going to find out about him—and nobody’s going to be hurt, not by him.”

* * *

“Do you feel better about it now?” Kit asked a few minutes later as he and Anna made their way back down from their uncle’s hideaway.

“Yes, I suppose.” Anna agreed. “I mean, he says Uncle Charles has been calmer. Surely he would not be calm if he had killed someone, even if he thought they were spies or assassins.”

“Arthur would have noticed if he had been acting strangely. He is devoted to him, but I don’t think he would cover up something like that for him.”

They made their way carefully down a slope, not speaking until they reached more level ground. When they did, Anna said with a sigh, “It makes me so sad to see him like that. Do you remember him when we were young? How he always had that bowl of sweets in his study, and he would give us one?”

Kit smiled faintly. “Yes, I remember. It is sad.” After a moment, he added, “What frightens me is—what if it strikes me later, as it did him?”

“I know. It’s a terrifying thought. I think about it, too.”

Their uncle’s madness had not come upon him until after he was grown, and at first, his “spells” had come upon him only now and then. During his “good days,” he had seemed normal. Gradually the spells had become more frequent and his behavior had grown more bizarre, until it was difficult to hide from the servants. His insistence on living outdoors had been the final oddity, impossible to explain, and it was then that Anna’s father had hit upon the plan to hide Lord de Winter’s madness from the rest of the world.

It was impossible not to look for signs of incipient madness in herself and in Kit, to examine every little oddity for an indication of something worse. Beneath everything that she did, running like a thread through the everyday fabric of her life, was the knowledge that one day her uncle’s fate might be hers or Kit’s, as well.

When they reached Holcomb Manor, they were surprised to see Kyria McIntyre’s carriage sitting in front of their house. Kyria and her friend Rosemary were in the front drawing room, sipping at the cups of tea that their butler had hastened to provide.

“Kyria!” Anna exclaimed as she and Kit strode into the room. “What a delightful surprise.”

“You will think me utterly rude, I’m afraid, to insist upon waiting for you, but your butler said you had already been gone some time on your walk, and I did so hope to catch you.”

“Of course I don’t think you are rude,” Anna assured her. “I am glad that you waited. May I offer you anything more than tea?”

“Oh, no,” Kyria said with a chuckle. “Your butler has already offered us most of the contents of your pantry, I think, but we had a late breakfast.”

As Kyria and Anna talked, Kit had taken the opportunity to speak to Rosemary Farrington, and now he extended to her an offer to show her the Holcomb gardens. Blushing a little, Miss Farrington did not hesitate to agree, and the two of them slipped out the door. Kyria looked after them for a moment.

“I think,” she said, turning to Anna with a smile, “that there is a certain fondness between your brother and Miss Farrington.”

“Miss Farrington is a very pleasant young woman,” Anna replied noncommittally.

“Unfortunately, I am afraid that I am going to throw a spanner in the works.”

Anna looked at Kyria questioningly.

“We came over here today to tell you that we are leaving for London as soon as we can get ourselves packed and ready—probably by tomorrow afternoon.”

Anna’s heart sank as she thought of Reed no longer being there. She knew it was the best thing, of course, for both of them, but that did not make the future seem any less empty. However, she kept her expression schooled to a mild disappointment as she said, “I—I am sorry to hear that.”

“Normally I would not be such a coward,” Kyria went on. “But I have to think of baby Emily and the twins, not to mention my guest. It—well, it just seems too dangerous for us to remain here with them, now that there is this person killing at random….”

“Yes, of course. You cannot expose the children or Miss Farrington to danger,” Anna agreed. “I perfectly understand. Still, I will be sorry to see you go.”