A Stranger in Wynnedower (32 page)

The table held the
remains of their meal. She left it. It could wait until David was gone.

She was rounding the
corner from the library into the central hall when she ran into Helene. She was
pale. She’d never gone as far as the kitchen.

“You saw him?”

She nodded, her blue
eyes were opened so wide that they were nearly round, but otherwise she
appeared to be okay.

“Wait here? If he’s
gone I want to gather the plates and stuff.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

David wasn’t in sight,
for what that was worth. She stacked the plates and utensils. Helene had
followed her to the conservatory after all. Maybe that was a good sign.

“Take these to May in
the kitchen and then meet me in the central hall?”

Again, Helene nodded.
Their fingers touched as she accepted the plates. Helene left. Rachel locked
the French doors. After a last look, a scan to spot unwanted guests, she joined
Helene.

“You’re okay?”

“I think so. I don’t
like him. Here.” Her voice was soft, but steady.

“You’re not afraid.”

“I want him to go
away.”

“I told him to leave.
Jack told him, too. If he comes back, I’ll call the police. He doesn’t have the
right to pester you or loiter on the property. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head ‘no’
but the words spilled out in a low, rushed flow. “He follows. Always follows. A
nice boy when we were children. Mostly nice. He followed Jack around, but Jack
was older and ignored him. I tried to be kind. I shouldn’t have.” She touched
Rachel’s hand. “You should always be honest in your dealings. Not do things out
of pity or guilt.”

“You were kind to him,
but that was a long time ago and in no way your fault. Why does he persist? Do
you know?”

“He said he loves me,
but I don’t think he does.”

“Why?”

“Because someone who
loves you doesn’t do what makes you unhappy.”

Was that true? Not
altogether, but Rachel could agree in principle. “Sometimes we think we know
better than our loved ones do, what’s good for them, I mean.” She rubbed her
eyes. “Sometimes we don’t mean it to be cruel. But, mind you, I’m not talking
about David. There’s something wrong with him. You’re right to avoid him.”

She took Helene’s hand
and patted it. “If you’re alone and you see him, go to your room and lock your
door, right? Don’t get upset like you did last time. Be strong.”

“Last time?”

“Yes. Remember how
upset you were when you saw him?”

“Saw David?”

Rachel was confused.
She decided she was confused by Helene’s confusion. “That evening when you saw
someone and got so upset? It was David Kilmer, right?”

“Oh, that. No, not him.
Not that time. A stranger. To me.” She moved her hand and returned the pat.
“Brendan’s friend. I was just surprised. You don’t need to worry about me,
Rachel.”

Brendan’s friend? That
time of the evening, and without Brendan in the house? He had some explaining
to do. On the other hand, it was no longer her business. He could do whatever
explaining was called for, to Jack.

“You should see this,
Rachel. If this is even a small taste of what Griffin experienced, then I have
a new appreciation for why he did what he did.” There was silence, except for
Jack’s voice. “I slipped away, and I’ve got to get back out there, but this is
so amazing and I have you to thank for a lot of it.”

“Me? No, not at all.”

“I couldn’t be in New
York, free of worry, if I didn’t know you were there at Wynnedower with Helene.
May is marvelous in her way, but, well, it’s not the same as knowing you’re
there.”

She bit back the
question about his wife.

“I don’t know if you’ve
realized it yet, but Helene wanted you to stay. She likes having you around. I
do, too.”

“Jack.” The words just
wouldn’t come.

“More than that, I want
to tell you….”

Noises, a growing hum
of voices, came through the receiver. One voice, a woman’s voice, stood out
among the others. “Hurry up. Why are you hiding in here?”

Jack said, “Rachel? I’m
sorry. I’ve got to get back in there. I’ll call you tonight.”

But he didn’t. And
though she remembered Helene’s advice about honesty, she wouldn’t have indulged
in it on Jack’s big night. Jack had provided a roof over her head when she
needed it, and she had performed services in return. Anything else was
unimportant. Jack was due home in two days, and Rachel would be packed and
ready to go.

The gift of the peacock
shawl would go with her—a beautiful, bittersweet souvenir.

****

Standing in the central
hall, Rachel stacked and restacked the information she was leaving behind for
Jack on a small table. It was yet one more piece of furniture that had migrated
down from the attic, not in direct opposition to Jack’s obstinacy, but just
because it was needed.

Distant voices caught
her attention. She went to the window and spotted something truly strange—the
tableau of May all but accosting a woman. May wasn’t actually throwing blows,
but every cell in her body seemed to be engaged. The woman she was berating had
backed up against her car, a shiny blue SUV, and was fumbling to open the door.
Rachel recognized the woman. May stood with her back to the house and watched
until the realtor’s car had vanished down the road.

Rachel scooted back to
the table before May reached the door.

Moments later, she
heard a swish of skirts, followed by May’s voice.

“Are you going soon?”

She sounded combative.
No doubt her adrenaline was still pulsing. Rachel tried to keep it cool. She
kept her attention focused on the papers.

“When Jack returns.”

“About what I’d expect
from a woman like you.”

 
Deep breath. Don’t
engage. Keep it light
.

“Do you mind? Will you
miss me?”

“Done your damage, and
now you’re gone.”

Rachel released the
papers and turned to face May. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve coaxed Miss
Helene from the safety of her rooms. Out and about, but Mr. Wynne will be
busier than ever with his art and she’ll be more on her own and unprotected.
But that won’t be your problem, will it?”

Rachel gaped. Score one
for May.

“Mr. Wynne will take
her away again, perhaps. Perhaps he’ll find somewhere else to paint. If he
does, Wynnedower is done. Miss Helene loves Wynnedower. So, you see, either way
she loses.” She snorted. “Again, I say, very poor judgment on your part.”

“Nonsense. Jack can
still restore Wynnedower. He doesn’t have to live here year round.” She crossed
her arms. “There’s no reason Helene can’t reside here without him.”

“If Mr. Wynne goes.…”

“Why not? Maybe with a companion
or a cook. Seriously, why not? She’s shy and  maybe wants to avoid life and
people in general, but that doesn’t mean she can’t live here without Jack.”

“You’ve learned nothing
about the Wynnes while you’ve been here. He would never leave his sister
unprotected.” May clasped her hands across her stomach. “Mr. Wynne has always
watched over his sister. The one time he didn’t, well, you’ve met David Kilmer.
Miss Helene is such an innocent, so defenseless, that she can’t manage on her
own. Mr. Wynne understands that. Some things don’t change. Shouldn’t change.”

A chill ran along
Rachel’s spine. It seized in the small of her back, and like a wireless signal
it sent a message north to her brain, but the message fizzled before it got to
the cells that could make sense of it. She couldn’t think of anything more to
say. Best to end the discussion.

“When it comes to
Wynnedower, things will change one way or the other. I saw you talking to that
woman outside. You know–”

“He won’t sell. He’ll
never sell. Even if he decided to, Miss Helene will never allow it.”

“Mrs. Sellers, I’m not
your enemy. I have no power over Wynnedower. If you care about the house, then
encourage Jack to renovate. Offer your help. Nobody knows Wynnedower like you.”

May was as still and pale
as a statue. Rachel felt a rush of sympathy for her. Of all the people in and
out of Wynnedower, it appeared that the two of them were the biggest losers.

“I’m sorry for any
aggravation I’ve caused you. I hope everything works out for you and Jack and Helene.”
Saying Jack’s name out loud caused a pinch in her heart. She took a
double-breath to erase it. The next words spilled out with no notice. “Do you
know Amanda?”

Immediately she
regretted asking because May’s hand went to her own heart.

“Why do you ask?” Her
voice sounded hoarse.

“Honestly, I don’t
know.”

“Don’t you? Well, I’ll
tell you. She and Mr. Wynne have a lovely apartment in New York. A lovely
place. She doesn’t care for country living, so he travels back and forth.
They’ve had their troubles, that’s true. One thing I know, someone like you
hanging around making a fuss over him, doesn’t help to work things out.”

Rachel’s temples began
to throb. She wanted to shout that she wasn’t a home wrecker. Instead, she
said, “They’re all adults and will have to figure life out without me. As for
Wynnedower, they can torch it and bulldoze it as far as I’m concerned. If
Jack’s smart, he’ll sell it and get what he can out of it.”

Even as the words left
her lips, she was appalled at her desire to hurt May. She needed OUT of this
place. This situation. She brushed past a stricken-looking May.

Rachel was tired of
worrying about people and things that were none of her business and would be
out of her life very soon, but not yet, because within an hour May had tracked
her down.

It was a different May
this time, calmer and subdued, but still very pale. “I’m going back to my
cottage for a while. Miss Helene is sleeping. Brendan is working for his
brother.”

They spoke with cool
formality.

“No problem. Shall I
check on her?”

“No need. I wanted you
to be aware.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be back in time
to fix supper.”

“Lovely. Thanks.”

“But only for us.
Brendan won’t be back tonight. His brother took him out of town. Last minute,
for work. Very unhappy about it, he was. Not wanting to let Jack down, I
believe. I’m pleased to see he’s developing a sense of responsibility.” She
sniffed, then turned and left.

Rachel was relieved
that apparently Madame May had decided to call a truce.

She went into the
kitchen to get a glass of water. The basement popped into her mind. It might be
worth a look at the carriage area, plus the blueprint showed rooms in the
eastern half along a long hallway. Small rooms in a row. Servants’ quarters.
More echoes of
Gosford Park
.

It was none of her
business. Still, it was the only part of the house she hadn’t seen. As if
confirming that she should do it, a flashlight stood on end on the counter.

She leaned in and
pulled the light string. She hefted the flashlight in her hand. Just in case.

The wooden steps were
steep with only one handrail to hold. She descended the stairs cautiously,
half-expecting some cadaver hands to thrust up between the steps and grab her
ankles, but there was nothing frightening here. It smelled old and musty. Not
damp though. Bone dry and cool.

There was very little
down here. A tool bench, long-forgotten. Some boxes stacked on the side. The
floor was concrete right in the middle, but off to the sides she could see
flagstones.  

This area was
relatively small and closed in. In one direction, there would be rooms,
servants’ quarters and such. The other way, through a door in a nearby wall, would
be the carriage area.

A fine layer of dust
and dirt covered everything. There was such a sense of stillness she felt
foolish for having been afraid.

A ladder leaned against
a support post near the center, the area directly below the stairs.

In the dust near the
ladder, a few marks stood out. They were fresh-looking. Rachel went to stand
beside it and stared overhead.

Between the floor
joists above there was a flat piece of wood, more like a panel. It looked like
the planks had been put together in such a way as to disguise it. A repair?

The rest of the ceiling
appeared undisturbed and identical. This was different. Hatch-like. It reminded
her of an attic ceiling panel. She moved the ladder and placed it directly
below the panel. Standing on the higher steps, she could easily touch it. She
pushed up gently, not wanting anything to fall down on her head. It wouldn’t do
to get injured. No one knew she was down here. No one would miss her for hours,
possibly not until Jack returned tomorrow.