Page 28 of Winterset

“Oh!” Anna had known in her heart that such was probably the case, but still the words hit her like a blow.

Murder was something that happened in London and other far-off places, not right here at home. And not to people one actually knew. Anna had seen Estelle every day for years now; she had come to work for them when Anna was only twenty-two. She had spoken to her often, had given her remedies for her toothaches and catarrh. She remembered again that day in the servants’ hall when she had seen Estelle return, and the grin that had touched Estelle’s pert face when Anna had protected her from the housekeeper.

“I knew,” she said, her voice sinking almost to a whisper. “I saw her come in one morning from the outside, and I realized that she must have been out all night. But I didn’t tell Mrs. Michaels, because I hated to get her into trouble. If only I had, she probably wouldn’t have been able to sneak out again. And she would still be alive today.”

“Or Mrs. Michaels might have let her go right there and then for moral turpitude,” Kit reminded her. “In which case, she would probably have been in exactly the same place.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Anna agreed. “Still, I cannot help but feel…responsible somehow.”

“You take too much upon yourself, Miss Holcomb,” Dr. Felton assured her. “I doubt very much that there was anything you could have done to prevent this.”

At that moment the butler appeared silently in the doorway, and when they looked toward him, he said, “Lord Moreland is here, Sir Christopher. Shall I show him in?”

“Yes, of course,” Kit answered.

Anna’s stomach tightened. She did not want to deal with Reed today; she was in too much turmoil already. But there was nothing she could do about it now. She could scarcely stand up and flee the room just as he walked in.

The butler returned with Reed, announcing him with a certain pride. It was not often that they had titled guests. Reed took in the room at a glance, nodding to Kit and the doctor, and bowing over Anna’s hand. Her heart sped up at his nearness. She could not help but think of those moments in his embrace last night, the feel of his lips on hers, of his hand sliding up her body.

“How do you do, my lord?” Anna said tightly, steeling herself to conceal her reaction to him.

“I am well, thank you. I came to see how you were faring after what happened last night.” Reed’s eyes looked on hers for a long moment, then went to the doctor. “I take it that the girl turned out to be Miss Holcomb’s maid?”

Dr. Felton nodded. “Yes, I was just informing them. It appears that she was murdered.”

“Do they have any idea who did it?” Reed asked as he took a seat beside Dr. Felton on the sofa.

The doctor shrugged and glanced toward Kit and Anna. “I understand that she had been sneaking out to meet a man….”

Anna nodded. “That is what she told Penny—the maid who shared her room.”

“Obviously this man must be the most likely suspect,” Kit said. “A lover’s quarrel, perhaps, gone terribly wrong.”

“But what about the marks?” Anna asked, turning toward the doctor. “They said there were claw marks. Could it not have been that she was attacked by some animal?”

Dr. Felton frowned. “Yes, there were claw marks—” He glanced at Anna, hesitating. “This is a most gruesome subject. I hesitate to tell a lady…”

“No. I want to know,” Anna said firmly. “I have to know what happened to her.”

“There were claw marks in several places—her arms and chest, her face, her throat. Her throat, particularly, was torn. She died from exsanguination—a loss of blood. Most of it had soaked into the ground.”

Anna felt a little queasy at his words, but she did not ask him to stop. She nodded. “Then it was an animal? Could she not have been going to meet her lover and been attacked by—”

“It did not resemble anything I have seen done by an animal,” Dr. Felton said grimly. “It would have had to be a very large animal. The scratches—” He hesitated again, looking at Anna uncomfortably. “They were fairly deep and spaced rather far apart—not nearly close enough together to be a dog or even a wolf—if there still are any wolves in this area. I have not heard of any. And dogs are much more likely to bite and tear as they fight, not use their claws.”

“What could it have been, then?” Reed asked.

“I would have said something much larger, some sort of animal that one would find only in the London Zoological Park—a lion, say, or a bear.”

The others simply looked at him. Finally Kit said, “It doesn’t seem very likely, does it?”

“No. That is why I’m more inclined to think that it was murder,” Dr. Felton said. “I suspect it was the work of a man.”

Anna paled even more and said, “With claws?” She glanced toward Kit, and he shook his head slightly. She turned back to the doctor, saying “But a man would not have—”

“No. Not claws. I think it merely resembled that. I would be inclined to say some sort of instrument—a gardening tool, perhaps. There is one, I’m not sure what you call it as I’m not much of a hand in the garden, but it looks something like a small rake, less than a foot long, with tines that curve down.”

“Oh, yes,” Anna said. “I know what you mean. It is a cultivator. One breaks up the earth with it before one plants. Of course. I can see how it would look that way.”