I turned in his embrace, and the impish light that danced in the amber depths of his eyes instantly drove the laughter from my lips. My heartbeat slowed to a dull thud and the inclination that made my teeth chatter had nothing to do with the icy air. A slow, dangerous smile curved Cad’s perfectly carved lips, and he began to draw me inexorably closer. I was powerless to resist, but I still could not quite distinguish which of my churning emotions was uppermost. Like a moth drawn to a flame, excitement and fear went to war in my breast. The outcome was still undecided as he bent his head toward me, and my eyelids automatically closed.
“Mr Jago! Sir!” Cad released me and turned toward the young footman who came running full tilt from the direction of the house. “They’ve found her. They’ve found Nellie Smith!”
* * *
Her body might have been discovered sooner if bad weather had not kept the fishing boats in the harbour. Cruelly flung down on the rocks in a tiny cove just along the bay from Port Isaac, Nellie Smith would have been clearly visible to anyone sailing out in a northerly direction. Her throat had been cut before she was stabbed in a murderous fury reminiscent of that unleashed on Amy Winton and the still-unnamed Wadebridge prostitute. Inspector Miller, in his lugubrious manner, stated that which was glaringly obvious. It was highly likely that all three girls had been killed by the same person.
She was found by a young boy who was out walking his dog. The dog ran down the steep slope into the cove and stood in a watchful stance on the rocks as though guarding something just out of his young master’s vision. When admonished to return, the animal had commenced a loud, distressed wailing. His owner, threatening dire consequences, scrambled down into the cove, only to stumble upon its awful secret.
I sat in the parlour with an open book in my lap, mindlessly reading the same passage over and over. My ears were attuned to the whispered conversation of the two parlour maids who were ostensibly polishing the wooden floor just outside the door.
“It were Jimmy Walker what found her.”
“Had she been…you know?” From the other girl’s shocked giggle, I guessed that a crude gesture had accompanied the words.
“They don’t know because her women’s bits had all been cut away.” Silence prevailed for a few minutes while the pair presumably pondered this awful circumstance.
“I didn’t know Nellie Smith right much. Were she walking out with a lad?”
“Don’t think so. She were a shy little thing. Proper tiny, an’ all. Nothing up top, you know? Most lads like a bit of a handful.” My mind’s eye saw the speaker grasp her own breasts and thrust them upward to illustrate the point.
“Jimmy Walker told his ma her face weren’t touched. He said if you didn’t look at her body, you’d think she were sleeping peaceful. But when you did look close, you’d see her head were near cut off. And her hair were all loose—she had lovely hair, did Nellie Smith, thick and fair—and spread about her head. It were like she’d been arranged, he said.”
“Sick bugger.”
“What in thunder are you two gossiping about?” It was Porter’s voice, and it was followed by the clatter of dropped brushes and polish and an accompanying flurry of activity.
Snow had come on noiseless, stealthy wings during the night, leaving deep drifts and icy shards. Exactly as Porter had predicted. Nature played a coy game with the landscape, not revealing the whole story, keeping her secrets well hidden. All at once, winter caught Athal House up in a private, quiet world, keeping its inhabitants close to the hearth and making introverts of us all. I gazed out the window at the silent, dreaming garden with dismay. I could not imagine anyone making a journey today. Or anytime soon. Sandor could not leave, which also meant I could not escape him.
I found Eddie alone in the library, regarding the pearl-and-lace pattern of the snowy coastline with an unfathomable expression. He smiled as I entered the room, but I was shocked to see how gaunt he looked. It occurred to me then that his family home was slowly killing him.
“When Christmas is over and the snow clears, let’s go away from here. Let’s not wait any longer,” I said, going to stand next to him and leaning my head companionably against his shoulder. He slid an arm about my waist, and we stood there for a long time without speaking.