“Margaret is the young blond maid with the lovely skin, is she not?” Katherine asked from beside him.
“Yes, Madame.” Elton nodded, his expression solemn.
“She was not much older than I am,” she commented, her voice weak and thready.
Matthew placed an arm around her waist for though her composure seemed intact, she looked pale.
“With the guards patrolling the grounds, I’d be interested to know how he got by them and into the house,” Matthew said.
“She would have had to let him in herself, sir. The side entrance was locked. I checked it myself before retiring.”
The man’s words shocked him. It couldn’t be. Surely it hadn’t been the woman he had seen outside last night?
Had he walked past the man moments before he killed her? The trip from the docks to Willingham’s progressed in silence. Matthew kept his arm around Katherine throughout the short journey. He was troubled by her abrupt withdrawal into silence and attributed it to shock and concern for the maid. His own concerns lay like rocks in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn’t he called out to them as he’d gone into the house?
“How did you know her, Katherine?” Matthew asked as he braced them both against the sway of the coach.
“She brings in the morning paper at breakfast,” she answered. “I know the names of all the servants.” Surprised, he fell silent again. He wondered how many of the servants he could name. Very few, he’d guess.
Elton hung back as the footman opened the door and lowered the steps. Matthew exited the coach and reached up to offer Katherine a hand. A crowd hung outside the entrance to the grounds, their silence giving an air of foreboding to their arrival. Two burly men dressed in camel colored knee breeches and dark coats stepped forward as Matthew and Katherine mounted the stairs with Elton behind them.
A small cart with two horses harnessed to it blocked the drive. Two men bearing a blanket-covered stretcher rounded the corner as they stood on the steps.
“This is Lord Willingham’s nephew and his wife,” Elton informed one of the men as the other brushed past them and went to lower the tailgate of the cart. The man flipped back the cloth covering the woman’s face revealing blond hair surrounding a pale grayish face. A blue ribbon dangled from around her throat.
Matthew’s pushed aside his own reaction as Katherine staggered and grasped at the concrete banister of the steps. Matthew caught her arm partially breaking her fall. She raised shock-glazed eyes to his face, her hands clenched at her throat as she huddled upon the narrow step. Matthew bit back an oath. Had the man been able to curb his curiosity for one moment more she would have been spared seeing the girl entirely.
He knelt upon the step prepared to lift her, but she held him off, her hands grasping his upper arms so tightly he felt the pressure of each finger. Her eyes appeared so large and dark, her face looked as though it had shrunk around them. The bruise upon her cheek stood out in stark contrast to the pallid color of her skin. “He’s been here.”
For a moment he stared at her in confusion, then realization dawned. “How do you know, Katherine?”
“The ribbon. It is the same as the one he used to strangle my mother. A blue ribbon.” She clenched both
fists against her lips, as though to hold back some sound that rose inside her. “Oh, God! It is my fault.” She began to rock as though in pain. “You warned me that someone would be hurt.”
He scooped her up, intent on getting her inside the house and away from the prying eyes of the men standing around them. Elton opened the door for him, and he carried her into the entrance hall.
Hannah sat upon a bench along the wall waiting for their arrival. She sprang to her feet upon seeing them and rushed to Matthew’s side.
“She knows.” It was a statement not a question. He set Katherine on her feet and the two women reached for each other immediately.
“He used a blue ribbon,” Hannah said.
Katherine’s posture was stiff. He realized she was struggling to hold onto her composure. “I saw it.” Listening to the women talk in short terse sentences sent concern rushing through him. He watched as Hannah hugged her offering her comfort.
“It is my fault she is dead, Hannah. I should have warned the staff more clearly. I should have given each one of them one of the prints. She may have recognized him and we could have caught him. She’d still be alive.” Her voice, choked and husky, held a broken note of sorrow. Her skin retained the paleness of shock. The fact that she turned to Hannah for comfort, instead of him, made Matthew uneasy.
“You’ll need to talk to Talbot about this, Katherine.
Everything you tell him and the magistrate may help them capture the man or men responsible.” She turned to look over her shoulder at him, her eyes wet with tears, her expression so raw with emotion and vulnerability he fought the urge to reach for her. Her posture, her pointed avoidance of seeking him out for comfort, made it clear she had distanced herself from him again. He didn’t know if it were triggered by their return to Willingham’s, the murder, or something else, but he didn’t like it a damn bit and didn’t intend to endure it.
He wasn’t going to stand by and allow the open, giving woman he had made love to last night and this morning, to slip away without a fight. As soon as she had
calmed, he intended for them to talk about the situation.
“Will you join us, Hannah? You may have something useful to add to what Katherine has to say.”
“Aye, I will, Captain Hamilton.” The woman nodded.
“I want to do it now,” Katherine said as she straightened away from Hannah and wiped her eyes with the small handkerchief the maid offered her.
He grasped her arm and guided her down the entrance hall to Talbot’s study. As concerned about the situation as he was, he had to admire Katherine’s strength and determination. Caroline had been more malleable and less independent. He wondered what his brothers would think of his choice. Regardless of how they had wed, he had made a choice to have her and to keep her. With her headstrong, iron will, things would certainly never be boring between the two of them.
Matthew gave the door a short, sharp rap. The portal opened almost before his hand had lowered to his side.
Talbot’s white hair looked mussed, as though he had threaded his fingers through it repeatedly, and his stock hung askew.
His expression changed from irritation to open relief.
“Matthew, I am glad you have returned.” He stood back for the three of them to enter the study.
“Katherine and Hannah have some things to tell you they think may be useful.”
Talbot turned toward the women. “Please come in and sit down.” He motioned toward the chairs before the fire. He turned to look over his shoulder at a man behind him standing before a large Queen Ann desk. “Lord Harcourt, please join us.”
The man who stepped forward had a slight, wiry build and moved with bold, confident strides. His light brown hair, brushed straight back from his forehead and tied with a black lace, bared his wide flat cheekbones and pointed chin. His brows, bushy and thick, arched above brown eyes that held a sharp intensity. His other features appeared so exaggerated; his small narrow nose seemed almost an afterthought.
Talbot quickly made the introductions then said,
“Lord Harcourt read Katherine’s story and had asked to
speak with me this morning, but since it is Katherine’s story to tell, I believe he should speak directly to her.”
“With your permission of course, Mrs. Hamilton,” Lord Harcourt added.
She settled on the edge of a high-backed chair. “I will do whatever I can to help.”
Lord Harcourt studied her for a moment. “There has been a rash of similar attacks upon women across the city, Mrs. Hamilton. The general populace is not aware of it because it was feared that it would cause a panic. Your mother was not the first and this young woman here today will not be the last, if he is not captured. You are the only one to survive such an attack. You can identify the killer and that makes you very dangerous to him.”
“Anyone who has seen the prints is a danger to him now, Lord Harcourt. That is why I have offered a reward for his capture.”
“But they cannot testify to his actions as you can, Mrs. Hamilton. You must be very careful.”
“Of course.” She nodded.
“Lord Willingham has hired some men to protect you and his family. I believe you will be secure here at Willingham’s.”
She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. ”He strangles women with a blue ribbon. He has brown hair with blond mingled through it, and I believe green eyes.
He is a big man with large hands. He is handsome, but he has a cruel set to his mouth. He reminds me of someone I have met of late, but I cannot quite identify whom.
Something about his jaw—” She rubbed her temples. “I only remember parts of the night I was attacked, Lord Harcourt. I remember being on a horse and being shot. I remember my brother’s and father’s faces gleaming white in the lantern light. I remember seeing a light in the distance and I remember the man’s face who tried to strangle me with a thin rope.” She rose to her feet. “I can offer you one of the prints I had made with his likeness.”
“That will not be necessary, Mrs. Hamilton. I already have one.” Lord Harcourt rose to his feet as well.
“Then if you will excuse me, I would like to go to my room.”
“Certainly.”
Hannah rose to follow her and Katherine stopped to turn to the woman. “If there is more that you can tell Lord Harcourt, you must stay, Hannah. I am going up to lie down.”
Hannah hesitated then lowered herself back into her chair.
The door closed behind Katherine, but Hannah remained silent for a few moments.
“What is it you wish to tell us, Hannah?” Matthew prompted the woman when she remained silent.
“The man is a monster. He tortured Lady Ellen before he killed her. I cleaned and prepared the body m’self. She was cut some across her thighs and belly and the ribbon had dug into her throat so deep I had to have help cutting it free.” She hugged herself and began to rock as tears streamed down her face unheeded. “They’d done other things as well, more than one of ’em.” Overwhelmed, she wept and Matthew laid a comforting hand upon the woman’s shaking shoulders. She gathered herself and wiped her face and blew her nose. “Miss Ellen was so sweet and soft spoken, a real lady, they had no right to shame her so.”
“We almost lost Miss Kate as well. She’d been shot in the side. She near died from losin’ so much blood. Another coach came up the road and scared him and his men away. That ’twas what saved her from the worst of it.”
“Who was it that told Katherine she had been molested like her mother, Hannah?” Matthew asked.
“It had to be Edward—Lord Leighton. Had I known he had claimed such a thing, I’d have spoken with her about it,” Her expression took on a momentary narrow eyed look. “’Twas untrue. Lady Kate wasn’t harmed like that. You know that don’t you, Capt’in Hamilton?”
“Yes,” Matthew said briefly.
The woman blinked to clear her vision, and focused on his face. Heat crept upward in his cheeks. It was one thing to make love to one’s wife, quite another to admit as much to your wife’s maid, and to do so with two other men looking on.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down for a while too, Hannah. I’ll see to anything Katherine might need.” She nodded and stood up. The wrinkles around her
eyes and mouth appeared to have deepened in just the few moments she had spoken to them. “Thank you, Cap’in Hamilton.” She placed a hand upon his sleeve. “I know Miss Kate will be safe with you.”
“I’ll do my best to see she is, Hannah.” She nodded and left the room.
“Tell me about Lord Leighton,” Lord Harcourt said immediately.
Matthew nodded. “After I have told you about something I saw last night.”
****
Katherine shoved the feather-laden sack into the drawer of a chest inside the dressing room. It had taken her some time to clear away the feathers spilled from the mutilated pillow. She saw no reason for Matthew to experience the same sense of violation and fear she had on discovering it. She shivered as goose bumps crawled across her skin. Knowing the killer had been inside their room made her almost ill with revulsion. She checked the bed for the third time for any further proof he had been here.
Had they been asleep in the room, there was no doubt in her mind that Matthew and she would be as dead as the downstairs maid.
Katherine wanted to wail with grief and guilt at the woman’s death. It was her fault. Had she not persisted with her plans, the woman would still be alive. She would have to learn to live with that. At the moment, she wavered between tears and nausea and a feeling just shy of panic.
Her continued presence placed Matthew and his family in danger. She couldn’t live with that. She wasn’t willing to lose anyone else she loved to these killers.
She placed the note she had composed on the bedside table, picked up the small bag she had packed, and left the room. There were no servants about when she went down the back stairs to a hallway just outside the kitchen.
The side entrance where they had removed the body was just down the hall.
A man stood outside the door, a musket cradled in the bend of his elbow and a pistol stuck in his belt. She didn’t recognize him though she understood his purpose
for being there.
“Where would you be going, girl?” he asked, his green eyes sweeping the plain gray dress beneath her cloak.
She hesitated only a moment with the valise in her hand. She adopted an accent just shy of the more cultured tones she had learned at her parents heals. “I’ll be leaving here for home. I didn’t sign on to risk my life for a bunch of rich gadders, only to clean for them.” She stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind her.
“I wouldn’t desert the ship jest yet, love. Ye’d probably be safer here with me outside the door than on the streets.”
“I won’t be on the streets. I even have me a coach waitin’ at the back gates. You wouldn’t want to walk with me there would you?”
He looked from right to left then grimaced. “I can’t leave me post, but I’ll watch ye as far as I can.” She flashed him a smile then with a sigh of relief walked down the path she had taken her wedding day.