A Design of Deceit (The Dickinson Sisters Mysteries Book 5) Page 5

  Doctor Webb scratched his chin, flipping open the folder once again. “…Fears?” he asked, peering at the page. “No, nothing about fears.”

  “Nightmares of any sort?” I asked.

  “No, nothing like that,” he said. “All physical ailments.” He looked up at us. “Why? Has something been giving her cause for fear?”

  “Well, the matter of Mr. Shaw’s murder shook her at the time,” Nash said. “I am simply wondering if the paranoia she has been experiencing is nothing more than a delayed result of that.”

  “Paranoia?” Doctor Webb asked, his bug-like eyes growing in size. “Well, this is the first I have heard of that.”

  “Does that change your assessment?” Nash asked.

  “It might,” Doctor Webb said. “Paranoia could lead to all the symptoms she has been experiencing.”

  “What could the trouble be?” I asked. “She could not have somehow contracted what it was that Mr. Shaw had, surely?”

  “What was it that he had before he died?” Doctor Webb asked. “Consumption, yes?”

  Nash and I both nodded.

  He shook his head. “No, I highly doubt it. Her symptoms would have shown up long before this. Besides, I imagine a woman in her position would not have interacted with the gamekeeper a great deal…”

  “That is what she claims, yes,” Nash said.

  “Then I highly doubt that would be what is causing these troubles…” Doctor Webb said. “Hmm…perhaps I shall have to reevaluate her condition. I suppose it would not be a terrible idea to visit her once again and see. Or even send a letter to inquire after her health. I have done that in the past…”

  “What are you thinking it could be?” I asked. “She had a terrible bout of faintness at my shop this morning. She confided in me that this is not the first time.”

  “Yes, and she has told me as much,” Nash said. “She is quite certain, Doctor, that someone is after her life.”

  Doctor Webb, who had been scrawling a small reminder at the bottom of Lady Wilson’s page, looked up and blinked. “After her life?” he asked. He removed his spectacles and rubbed his hands over his face. “Good heavens, well that could change matters entirely…”

  “How so?” Nash asked.

  “Fear alone could cause a person to have stomach upset, to sleep less, which would then lead to faintness…” he said.

  I looked up at Nash, the knots in my stomach twisting even tighter. “Do you really think it possible that someone would want your aunt to…” I could not even bring myself to say the word.

  Nash swallowed hard, his jaw muscles tight as he clenched his teeth together.

  “This is a grave matter, indeed,” Doctor Webb said. “Even if the danger exists only in her mind, her fear of it is real. The truth must be learned.”

  “My uncle does not believe her,” Nash said. “He will not hear of it.”

  “And yet his wife suffers as she does,” Doctor Webb said, shaking his head. “Perhaps you should speak with Constable Brown about investigating the matter.”

  Nash shook his head. “No,” he said. “She has forbidden my interfering. She will be furious when she learns that I have brought this to your attention.”

  Doctor Webb sighed. “What shall you do, then?”

  “I shall find out what I can,” Nash said. “Perhaps it is nothing more than a perceived threat when none truly exists. The only way I will know, however, is if I go and see for myself.”

  He turned and looked at me, a sad smile appearing on his face.

  “I am terribly sorry that our day had to end this way,” he said. “I promise that I shall make it up to you. I have every intention of it.”

  “Oh, Nash, I – ” My voice caught in my throat. What could I say? This certainly had not turned out how I had wished but his aunt’s health needed to take priority. “It is perfectly all right.”

  I did not add what both of us must be thinking. If his aunt’s instincts were correct, he must waste no time in discovering the truth. Every passing moment could increase her danger.

  6

  “Again, I am sorry for ending our afternoon together in this manner, Iris.”

  Nash, having walked me back to the Golden Spool, frowned down at me. The tightness around his eyes and the nervous shifting of his feet told me that while he did regret having to leave me, he was quite anxious to be on his way. It would not do for me to keep him.

  “I understand perfectly,” I said. “Your aunt needs you right now. Go to her and help resolve this matter so that she may be at peace once more.”

  He smiled down at me. “You have a wonderful heart, Iris Dickinson.”

  He reached for my hand, drawing it up to his face, and kissed my fingers gently…his silvery eyes fixed on mine the whole time, locking me in place.

  Until we meet again, Miss Dickinson. I should very much like for us to have a walk again very soon.”

  “Yes,” I said. “So should I.”

  He gave me a brief smile before turning away, adjusting his hat, and hurrying across the street before a carriage passed by.

  I watched him go, my heart trailing after him. When he finally disappeared, and I gathered myself once more, I headed back inside the shop.

  “Back so soon?” Lily’s voice called. “I thought I would not see you until after dusk.”

  Beaming, she came hurrying to the front of the shop.

  “Well? Tell me all about – ”

  She stopped short when she caught sight of my face.

  “What happened, Iris? Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong, sister,” I said. I looked down at the small, brown paper wrapped box that Nash had given me before departing. I smiled at it. “I had a wonderful time with Nash.”

  The stiffness in Lily’s shoulders disappeared as she sagged with a sigh. “Oh, that is a relief, indeed. Then why do you appear so distressed?”

  “I…I told Nash about his aunt’s visit this morning,” I said.

  Lily’s eyes widened. “You did?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I couldn’t very well ignore it. His aunt means a great deal to him and I would be foolish to assume that he would not wish to hear about anything that might be wrong.”

  “Yes, but certainly that sort of conversation might have waited,” Lily said. She shook her head. “I only hope that it does not reach the general public.”

  “Why?” I asked, brow furrowing.

  She looked at me in disbelief. “People may very well begin to think that our shop will make them fall ill. And we certainly cannot have that.”

  “No, I should think not,” I said. “But I highly doubt that anyone would consider it. Lady Wilson is the first to – ”

  “Yes, but if she tells those she has connections with, they may change their minds about coming to see us,” Lily said. She then quickly pursed her lips together, exhaling through her nose in disgust. “All this aside, I should very much like to hear about your time with Nash and how the conversation about his aunt came up in the first place.”

  As she and I began to clean up for the day, I told her about Nash’s gesture of taking me to Mr. Clark’s bakery and about how he had spent an elaborate amount of money on such a silly treat for me. She told me that she was quite pleased with his decision to listen to her advice.

  I gaped at her. “You told him to take me there?”

  Lily shrugged her shoulders as she dusted the tops of the shelves with the billowy feather duster in her hand. “I thought it would be best for him to know that sweets are one of your favorite things. When he asked where you might like to go with him, it was, quite frankly, an easy decision.”

  My face flooded with color.

  “Did you think he had taken you there on a whim?” Lily asked. “Well, I can certainly see how you would prefer that, it being a more romantic idea that he simply guessed your preferences in that way…”

  I glared at her. “You make it sound so…so…”

  “So what?”

&nbs
p; “So ordinary,” I said.

  She gave me a flat look. “My dear, we have had this conversation many times. Love is not as it is in novels.”

  I frowned. “But it could be.”

  “Are you angry with me?” she asked, arching a brow.

  “No,” I said, finally. “I am not angry. I just…well, I had hoped that he might have desired to go because he, too, enjoyed the bakery.”

  “Oh, he certainly does,” Lily said. “Which is why I mentioned it. Goodness, my dear, you do not need to be so downhearted that I helped you in this way.”

  “I am not downhearted,” I said. “I am simply – ”

  I stopped, realizing that I was, in many ways, behaving childishly.

  “I’m sorry…” I said. “He came in to see what I would like?”

  Lily nodded, her smile growing wider. “Very excitedly too. He asked me many questions.”

  My eyes widened. “He did? Such as?”

  Lily shook her head. “No. Those are a secret that I promised I would keep. Telling you that he wanted to know your ideal place to go is innocent enough.”

  I nodded.

  “So, how did the conversation of his aunt come up?” Lily asked, some of her enthusiasm deflating.

  I sighed. “It passed through my mind as we were walking,” I said. “I mentioned how wonderful today had been, and then thought of Lady Wilson fainting this morning… I felt as if I must tell him. It did not seem fair to withhold that from him, even at the expense of my own joy.”

  Lily gave me a sympathetic look. “I imagine he was none too pleased with the news.”

  “No,” I said. “Though, according to him, she has been dealing with some sort of illness for some time. At least, that is what she claims it is. Even he is uncertain about what she tells him.”

  “What did she tell him that she noticed happening?” Lily asked.

  “She told Hornsby once that she believes it might be Mr. Shaw’s restless spirit returning from the dead,” I said. “Though that is perfectly preposterous, as we all know. Nash also tells me that he believes it to be something residual from everything that happened with Mr. Shaw’s death. He tells me that she will often put on a brave face, but it seems her fear is reappearing in her life in different ways; her physical ailments, namely.”

  “Well, fear can certainly push a person too far,” Lily said, eyeing me warily. “And to realize that a murder had happened so very close…to a member of her own household…”

  I nodded. “I suggested that she see Doctor Webb.”

  Lily perked up. “What a wonderful idea, Iris. Yes, indeed. Doctor Webb would surely be able to put her at ease.”

  I nodded once again. “Nash had considered the same some time ago. She did, in fact, go to see him. Nash and I confirmed this when we went to speak with Doctor Webb ourselves.”

  Lily’s blank stare fixed on my face. “You visited him?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I suggested it, hoping to put poor Nash at ease. He was so terribly worried, you see.”

  “Iris, it is unwise to meddle,” Lily said, her eyes narrowing. “If something is the matter with Lady Wilson, it is a matter for her and her family. Not ours.”

  “Well, I think it might be our business too, since she well near fainted here in our shop,” I said.

  Lily shook her head. “Iris, I understand your concern, but we have enough troubles of our own to be worrying about, without also concerning ourselves with Lady Wilson’s health.”

  “You might have said the same after you found Mr. Shaw,” I pointed out before I had the chance to think over what I was to say.

  Lily frowned, her brow wrinkling. “…Perhaps I should have,” she said, flicking the scrap of muslin she had been folding rather aggressively to remove the wrinkles. “But I wanted to be able to give the authorities any information they might need – ”

  “Yet you continued assisting with the investigation, even when it was not required of you,” I said. “Now, I am quite aware of the fact that I do not need to care about Lady Wilson’s condition. But I shall continue to do so, because she is important to Nash, and…”

  I thought of the smile that Nash had shared with me across that small table in Mr. Clark’s bakery, the way he had told me how much he cared about me…

  “And Nash is important to me,” I said.

  Lily sighed, gently setting the newly folded fabric down upon the table beside her.

  “You are right, of course. I am sorry. I simply worry about either of us becoming involved in anything like this again. I fear…I fear that we will soon lose all sense of ourselves.”

  I walked across the floor to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “We shall not lose ourselves,” I said in a quiet voice. “And I shall do my best to keep my distance. I do not wish to stick my nose where it does not belong, of course. Nash left me here to go see to her himself. If this is nothing more than nerves, she might soon be better. She may only need some rest and perhaps someone to tell her that the danger has indeed passed.”

  Lily searched my face for a moment. “I suppose you are right,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  We completed our closing procedures before going upstairs to have our supper. I did my best to hide the fact that, while I hoped what I said was true, I could not help but think of the look on Lady Wilson’s face when she had sat beside me and told me about the darkness that she feared had crept over the estate.

  Dinner came and went, as did the rest of our evening. Lily asked me many more questions about my time with Nash, which I was all too happy to discuss. The more I spoke of it, the more certain that Lily became of something.

  “What is it?” I asked finally, as we readied ourselves for bed that night.

  She smirked as she sat down on the end of her bed, brushing her dark hair out from its plait.

  I frowned at her in the flickering candlelight.

  She let out a snort of laughter, turning to me. “I think he means to propose to you,” she said.

  My eyes widened. “He what?” I asked. It was as if her words had stolen the very air from my lungs.

  Lily’s smile grew. “Oh, come now, Iris. What else could he mean by the attention? The walk? The time spent together?”

  My face flooded with color. “I – ” I said. “I am having difficulty believing – ”

  Lily laughed, throwing her head back in genuine delight. “Oh, dear sister…how inobservant you are.” She gave me a kind look. “He cares deeply for you. He has told me as much.”

  “He said the same to me, today,” I said.

  “Then you should not have to wait long,” Lily said, kicking her legs up into her bed and pulling the quilt up over herself. “I imagine that before Christmas you shall find yourself engaged to be married.”

  Sleep came quickly, for my heart warmed me, glowing brightly with happy memories of the day. I dreamt of a day with Nash, filled with our family and our closest friends. He and I stood together, before Reverend Michaels, and stared into one another’s eyes…

  “You are getting married?”

  I blinked up at Nash, which seemed to take an eternity, the world moving so sluggishly around me. The sound of laughter echoed far in the distance, even though those who cheered for us stood so close.

  “How wonderful, my dear. I had always hoped you would find someone to make you happy.”

  Slowly, ever so slowly, I turned my head.

  A woman stood there in the aisle, her head tilted to one side, a pretty smile on her all too familiar face. A perfect union of Lily and myself, she stared up at me with an expression I had seen on Lily’s face far too often, with eyes that I saw every morning when I looked in the mirror.

  I blinked again and everyone in the room disappeared…

  Apart from her and I.

  “M…Mother?” I asked.

  The very room we stood in shifted. No longer did we stand in the church but in a humble, cozy sitting room.

  Something in the far
corners of my mind began to emerge. The color of the red in the curtains tugged at something within my heart. The way the light streamed in through the windows, pooling on the floor, made cracks somewhere in my mind.

  The woman stood there, very much in her element, and smiled at me, nodding. “Oh, Iris…” she said, smoothing her hands over the simple, white apron she wore. “Look how much you have grown, my darling.”

  Darling. The way she said it – it stirred dust from long forgotten stores deep within me.

  I took a step toward her.

  A movement behind me caused me to look over my shoulder.

  Nothing appeared. I stood against a stone wall.

  “I am surprised that you are to marry this man when I have yet to meet him,” the woman who looked so much like the portrait of Mother said. She continued to stare at me. I realized I had yet to see her blink. “Besides, I thought you meant to marry Patrick.”

  “Patrick?” I asked.

  She sat down on the old settee beneath the window and patted the seat beside her. “That young man you have been speaking with so often?”

  I shook my head. “Mother, Patrick has not been in my life for some time…”

  Mother frowned but it was as if her face did not wish to cooperate. The left side of her face hitched upward, soon dragging the right side with it back into a smile, though her eyes still seemed troubled. As she looked up at me, a shiver ran down my spine. She reminded me of a doll with dead eyes.

  I took a step backward but realized too soon that I might strike the wall. I did not, however, do that. Instead, my foot scraped against an edge of some sort.

  Gasping, I stopped, turning and looked around.

  A gaping hole, a mile across stood behind me.

  “What’s the matter, darling?” Mother asked, getting slowly to her feet. “Why are you so frightened?”

  My heart began to race. Sweat beaded on my forehead.

  My foot nearly slipped as rubble skidded away beneath me, cascading down into the darkness.

  “I – ” I said. “I don’t know!”

  Mother took another step toward me but her knee gave way and she tumbled to the ground at my feet.