Page 77 of Winterset

“No, don’t apologize. It may not be anything you can make happen. Or it may take a lot of practice.” He stood up, extending his hand to her. “Come. Why don’t we take a stroll? Perhaps some other place will present itself as a better spot to use.”

“All right.”

Reed offered Anna his arm, and she slipped her hand through it. As always, it sent a little tingle through her to touch him.

They strolled out into the foyer and down the central hall. A long hall stretched down to the left, across the back of the house. It was a gallery, lined with windows on one side looking out into the Winterset gardens. On the opposite wall hung paintings, and at various spots there was a bench upon which to sit, or a long, narrow table.

It was a lordly sweep of hall. Anna could faintly remember running down it when she was a child. It had seemed a marvelous place in which to run full tilt, her shoes clattering on the marble floors. She had not been in it much in recent years. The area had been little used by her uncle and had remained largely closed off. It was along here, she remembered, that the caretaker, Grimsley, had spoken of seeing the ghost of the old lord walking.

Reed glanced at her. “Are you cold?”

Anna smiled. “No, just a shiver from thinking about ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” He lifted a brow, then chuckled. “Ah, yes, I remember now. This is Grimsley’s ghostly walkway, isn’t it? I must say, they have not disturbed me.”

Anna’s steps slowed, and she looked across at the inside wall. There were doors set at intervals into the interior wall, all of them closed. But one particular door somehow drew her. She wasn’t sure why, but she could not resist stepping across the hall and trying the knob. It opened inward, and Anna stopped in the doorway. A jolt of fear slammed through her almost like a physical force.

She froze, startled, her pulse beginning to race. She looked into the room, which was largely devoid of furniture.

“Anna.” Reed’s voice was sharp with concern as he followed her to the door of the room. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

She glanced at him, unable to express the feelings that were dancing through her, drawing her into the room. She moved inside, not really wanting to, but feeling compelled. Slowly she walked to the middle of the room, looking around her.

Fear and pain were ricocheting around her, not as strong as the feelings she had had in the woods or when she had had her vision about Kit, but the same sort of panicked emotions.

Reed, watching her, saw her face go pale. She swayed a little, and he stepped forward quickly, his hand wrapping around her arm. “Anna! What is it? Do you feel ill?”

“Something happened here,” she murmured. She turned toward him slowly, her eyes huge in her white face. “Murder.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“What?” Reed stared at her in astonishment. “What are you saying?”

“It didn’t happen outside. It happened here,” Anna said.

“The murder?” Reed asked. “You’re saying Estelle was murdered here, in this room? How could that be?”

“No. Not Estelle. It is something much older than that.”

Reed continued to gape at her, speechless. Anna turned away and walked around the room. “It isn’t as strong, but I can feel it.” She stopped, her eyes blank and vague, looking at something that Reed could not see.

“There was furniture here, and a rug—a blue-and-gold Persian rug. And it’s—it’s covered with blood,” she told him. She raised her hands to her temples. Her breath came more quickly in her throat; her heart began to pound. “The Winterset maid—Susan Emmett. This is where she was killed! Not Weller’s Point.” Anna whirled and looked at him, her eyes focused now, and blazing with emotion. “I am certain of it!”

“My God.” Reed stared at her in consternation, then took Anna’s arm and led her from the room.

She was trembling, her face paper white, and he thought she might faint. He slipped an arm around her waist and guided her over to a green velvet bench with rolled arms. He pulled her down onto the padded bench with him and took both her hands in his. They were cold as ice, and he chafed them gently.

Anna shuddered and closed her eyes. “Oh, Reed! That poor girl. There was so much blood.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his side. “It’s all right. Don’t think about it.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“I can’t keep from thinking about it,” Anna murmured. She realized that they should not be sitting this way, where any servant might come upon them in such a far too intimate pose. Worse, it felt much too good to be in his arms, and soon, she knew, the soothing comfort of his embrace would turn into something dangerously exciting. It was foolhardy to put herself in the way of temptation.

With a small inward sigh at the loss, Anna sat up, pulling away from his arm. “I think we should go see the maid again.”

“Mrs. Parmer?”

“Yes. I thought she was holding something back yesterday, and now I am certain of it.”