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A cloud covered his expression, and he looked away as a faint mist began to fall. “Lower your voice. I do not know where he is. If he’s alive or dead. All I know is he did not return and no one has found him. Perhaps he means to stay gone. I would not blame him if he did.”

The wind picked up, and the first few spitting bits of rain fell from the sky. I pressed harder. Narcisse knew something. I could get it from him—I knew I could. “A woman. Fair-haired.” I held my hand up to about my shoulder. “About this tall. I saw her talking to Dr. Peterson and there have been rumors she’s been in the village.” A small lie, but at this point, what was the difference? “Have you seen her?”

The wind whipped along the river, sending a small spray of water up against my stockings. The man’s expression grew graver as he shook his head to deny it, but I saw it in his face. He knew who I was looking for.

I glanced back toward the village. It was only the two of us here in the cemetery. The wind grew sharper, pricking my skin through my woolen stockings. “Please. I can help you. It’s obvious something terrible is happening here at Saint Oda’s. I want to help you. I need you to tell me everything you know. Even if it seems insignificant. I assure you sometimes the smallest of clues often can explain everything.”

Narcisse frowned looking at me, a softness crossing his features. He lifted a hand toward my cheek before closing his hand into a fist. “You look like her. When I first saw you, I thought she’d come back…” He knew he’d at last said too much. “It’s not right what they were doing. It wasn’t right. And Eva … she knew. She was trying to help them, to get them away from this accursed place.”

“Help who?” I touched the roughened fabric of his coat sleeve.

“She was a kind lady.” Narcisse hesitated. “You seem like a nice lady too. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I don’t want them to hurt you like they did your mother.”

“I’m stronger than I look. Who hurt them? Was it von Keller?”

“This is not the place or time for such conversations.” He looked up toward the edge of the high ground above, where I caught the flicker of a white coat. The American doctor, Dr. Peterson, lifted a hand in greeting to me, a peculiar smile on his face. “Hello Mrs. Vaughn,” he called down the incline, his voice echoing off the muddy banks.

Narcisse lowered his head and whispered, “Meet me at the lake tonight at nine o’clock. The hospital will be quiet. I will tell you what she found and all I know about Eva and where she’s gone. Ask no one else about her. Say nothing. Not to anyone.”

My heart stumbled in my chest as I cast a glance to her fresh grave. Where she’s gone? Surely it was just a twist of phrase, but a reckless hope flickered inside me all the same. Reluctantly, I turned back to Dr. Peterson, who watched us with a peculiar expression.

“Is everything quite all right?” he called down, hooking his thumbs into his trousers.

His timing couldn’t be worse. “Perfectly. Was just taking a walk and paused here by the river. It looks as if it might rain.”

The words sounded hollow to my own ears, but Dr. Peterson did not seem to notice. I felt the orderly’s tension ebb where he stood beside me, grateful for my discretion.

I turned back to Narcisse and lowered my voice. “Tonight.”

He gave an imperceptible nod before dropping down to the ground alongside one of the graves, wrapping his gloved hand around a particularly nasty-looking bramble, and gave it a tug. The roots and a clump of dirt came free.

Dr. Peterson placed his hands around his mouth, calling down to me. “I was just doing the same. If you have an hour or so I’d love to show you around the priory and the hospital grounds. It’s a unique complex, and I think you’d find it intriguing.”

Did he? I glanced back toward the village. Ruan had said he would meet me back at the boardinghouse at noon. I checked my pin watch before snapping it shut tight. There was plenty of time, and there was no harm in talking to Dr. Peterson. Perhaps I’d learn something along the way. I didn’t trust him, not one bit, but the more time I spent at the priory, the better my chances of finding another clue. I squinted up into the hazy light coming through the clouds and called back up. “I’d love to.”

CECIL PETERSON’S IDEA of an hour bled into three. Ruan was going to murder me himself when I returned, for it was now well past noon and I’d not managed to break away from Dr. Peterson. We’d explored much of the grounds, and I’d learned about the fourteenth-century origins of the priory and its storied past. At long last we paused along the river at the far side of the priory as Dr. Peterson nattered on about the natural cave network and I struggled to disguise a yawn beneath my fist.

“The resistance used them during the war.” Dr. Peterson gestured to where the priory loomed above. From this vantage only the back wall of the children’s home was visible. “The hospital grounds served as a waypoint, housing soldiers here who’d been trapped behind the lines. Goods too. It was ingenious. Hiding right beneath the nose of the occupying army.”

“Do the caves lead into the priory?” I asked curiously, glancing back out toward the river, my mind flickering to my peculiar poison-fueled dream. Of the cold and earthen smelling place. Could my mother have been telling me to find the caves? But then what? I hoped Narcisse would be able to shed more light on these caves when we spoke. He’d been here long enough I suspected he would know if there were paths leading to and from the priory into the countryside. It could certainly explain how the patients escaped.

“Not that I’ve found…” Dr. Peterson said, before looking at his watch. “Goodness, I’ve kept you far too long. We should get you back to town.”

I couldn’t agree more. The two of us made our way back to the priory green and said our goodbyes as I stifled a yawn beneath my fist. Over the past several hours, I’d gotten the distinct notion Dr. Peterson was the sort of fellow who liked to hear himself talk. He flashed me a charming smile, pressing an all-too-familiar kiss to the back of my hand as we said our goodbyes.

With a shake of my head, I left the priory grounds checking my watch. Good grief, it was already late afternoon. I was racing down the winding path into the village, desperate for a cup of tea and perhaps some crusty bread, when I saw Ruan coming up the lane to meet me. He was dressed only in his shirt and a brown waistcoat. His sleeves were rolled up as they often were when he was back home in Cornwall. I broke into a run to meet him, slightly out of breath as I looked up into his face.

His expression darkened as he placed a hand on my brow. “Where have you been? I’ve been searching the village for you.”

I waved him away. “Out and about.”

He folded his arms across his chest, looking down at me with that displeased pellar expression he wore so often at home. “Your skin is all wrong again. Damp. Cool.”

I shrugged him away and narrowed my gaze. “I’ve been gamboling, that’s all. Makes a girl sweat.”

He let out an aggrieved snort, brow raised in challenge. “Gamboling?”

I tucked my arm into his, in a futile effort to unruffle his feathers. “Dr. Peterson from the hospital insisted on showing me all over the grounds. I am not convinced there is a rock I have not climbed or a river I’ve not forded. Did you find anything in the village? What of my would-be killer?”