Chapter 66

THE NEXT MORNING, Anne and Jonas were out on the property directing the workmen hired to do the heavy work as well as the regular gardening staff.

She’d had the usual bout of morning sickness, but managed to get herself together and after some tea and toast, felt ready to work. She’d packed warm clothes and plenty of rain resistant gear, and that morning had piled on everything she could find to keep herself warm. The bitter spring Scottish wind seemed to penetrate clothing and flesh and go straight through to her bones. Luckily, when she got engrossed in her work, she forgot any discomfort from the weather. The project was challenging, but their experience at the prior Russell Page garden proved invaluable in unraveling the complexities of the design.

She’d managed to stop herself from calling Terrence yesterday or this morning, although it had not been easy. Darby had said not to use her cell phone, and Anne couldn’t figure out what to do to get an outside line on the house phones. Even if Terrence had wanted to call her, he probably couldn’t since he wouldn’t want to interfere with what she was supposed to be doing at Lynstrade Manor. She needed to use restraint, as well. Soon they would be able to talk things over and she could explain about Andrew.

Noon came before she realized it. Walter had come out once again that morning to talk to her and watch the work, then again when the workmen had their tea break. She and Jonas had been given the use of an old granary conveniently located at the far side of the back garden to use as a working office, a place to lay out the plans and coordinate the work. Walter had sat with her there, having tea and asking questions about the design concept. He was funny and charming, and she found herself laughing and intrigued. He treated them as guests rather than simply as contractors who had come to do a job. He’d left after the break, his eyes sparkling, and told her he would see her and Jonas at luncheon at one o’clock. She felt half-guilty when she thought about what she was doing to spy on him.

She sensed the potential danger in him that Terrence had told her about, but it seemed far away. Darby had assured her that Von Zandt was only a money man. That didn’t change the fact that if what Darby said was true, the man was helping to perpetuate horrible evil, but she found it hard to believe. Surely Darby was wrong. Surely if Walter was as bad as Darby implied, he’d be behind bars already. And surely, if Walter was that evil, Terrence would not have asked Anne to move into his house to spy on him.

At luncheon, they ate the hearty fare Von Zandt’s cook provided in a dining room medieval in architectural design, but on a sleek, modern table that was characteristic of Walter Von Zandt’s style of furnishings. The contrast in styles was surprisingly effective, making Anne feel like she’d fallen into an issue of Architectural Digest magazine.

She was grateful that her stomach was stronger, because she was starving. The combination of exercise, fresh air, and being pregnant was a huge appetite enhancer, and she was happy they hadn’t been given cold sandwiches but rather some kind of delicious lamb stew. Henry Von Zandt had gone back to Glasgow, but Frederick remained, a quiet, almost skulking presence who hovered around the edges of the conversation. He rarely spoke, but when he did, it was generally only a few words, and most of those to Moira or his father.

As they ate, Anne could see through the large windows in the dining room that heavy gray clouds had crowded out the morning’s sunshine. A sharp crack of thunder accompanied the lightning flashing in the suddenly darkening sky. The subsequent downpour did not bode well for the afternoon’s outdoor work, but maybe now she’d be able to locate her host’s office or wherever it was that he likely kept the information Darby had specified.

When they’d finished eating, Von Zandt stood up from the table, smiling at Anne. He’d seated her next to him and spent the meal regaling her with stories of how he built his company when he was just a young man from the money he’d earned from gambling on horses.

“Allow me to make the library available for you and Jonas to work this afternoon. I assume that there are things you can do inside—planning and perhaps communications with suppliers and workmen? It will be more comfortable than forging your way through the rain to the granary.”

Thus, Anne found herself in the library working on re-configuring some of the design diagrams and organizing plant orders while Jonas addressed other aspects of the project. She noticed Von Zandt going into his office which, she had learned, adjoined the library, followed by Frederick. That was, she guessed, where he would keep anything about his accounts or his activities. She was wearing the wire underneath her layers of clothes, and when she was alone she would relay the information about the office location to Darby. This one-way wire thing was strange. She could talk to Terrence’s people, but they couldn’t talk to her, and there was no way for her to tell if anyone heard her. She guessed that made sense because she couldn’t exactly walk around with an earpiece and expect people not to notice.

What made everything more difficult was that Anne didn’t quite understand what she was looking for. Darby’s instructions had been so vague. If she could find a way to get into the nearby village later this week, she’d let Darby know via the wire where to meet her so that she could get more guidance.

Meanwhile, she’d just have to muddle through as well as she could. She checked her work email account and sent her mother and sisters each a quick message. Then she sent another one to Andrew letting him know she was fine. She thought of sending one to Terrence, but she doubted that would do any good. She’d already told him she hadn’t invited Andrew, and if he chose not to believe her, that was his problem. So if he was interested in how she and the baby were doing, he could just ask Darby.

The thought of Darby brought Anne back to what she was supposed to be doing. She chewed on her pencil while she thought about exactly how to get the information she needed. Moira might be the best source. Certainly she would be a better prospect than the taciturn Frederick.

Almost as if she’d conjured Moira up, the girl appeared at the doorway of the library. Anne smiled and motioned for her to come in, and turned her computer screen slightly in Moira’s direction. “Would you like to see what we’re doing with the garden?”

“Why should I care? It’s not my house.”

“No reason. But it is a lovely garden. If you’re interested, I can explain what the plan is—how we’re bringing back the original vision of the garden design. If you’re not doing anything else, that is. I don’t mean to interrupt if you’ve other plans.”

“I don’t have anything I need to do right now. I’m taking classes part-time, but I’m caught up with my coursework.”

“What are you studying?”

“IT.”

Anne looked at her. “IT?”

“Information technology.”

“Any particular area?”

“Information security. You know, on computers.”

“Really?”

“What did you think I’d be studying? Cooking? Fashion?”

“I really hadn’t thought. I would think information technology would be more useful than cooking or fashion—though there’s nothing wrong with either of those. But I think what you’ve chosen is certainly more marketable.”

Moira nodded, appeased. “I think so, too. And it’s fun. You can do it anywhere. Walter likes me to go with him when he travels, so I need something I can work on wherever we are.” She gave a typically teenage expression of exasperation. “He thinks I’m just playing computer games—that I’m just killing time, but I’m not. I’m really good at it.”

Anne sighed. “I’m not. In fact, I’m just about ready to throw my laptop through the window.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not really sure anything’s wrong. It’s probably me. Or maybe the software.”

“What software?”

“It’s for garden design. It’s supposed to be the best, but for me, at least, it’s clumsy to work with. I wish someone would design one that was friendlier to people like me whose talent doesn’t lie in the technology, but who need desperately what the software is supposed to do.”

Moira’s face perked up with interest, and she flopped into a chair beside Anne where she could see the screen. “What do you mean, clumsy?”

“I’ll show you.” Anne explained the issues she was having, demonstrating on the program as she talked. “Generally, it works fine, but for these more tricky elements, it’s a pain.”

Moira nodded, then slid the laptop over to position it in front of her. She played with the program for a while, asking questions as she went. “Give me a moment.” Not ten minutes later, Moira, wearing a self-satisfied smile, turned the computer screen back to Anne. “User error.”

Anne frowned. “No way.”

“Way. See here.” Moira walked Anne through what she’d been doing wrong.

“You’re right.” Suddenly, the design clumsiness was gone; Anne realized she just hadn’t been doing some of the steps correctly. Counterintuitive, some of this techno-geek stuff. “That’s amazing. Thank you so much. This will be such a help.”

“No problem.” Moira tried to cover her pride with nonchalance. “Just let me know if you have any other problems with it.”

“I will. I definitely will.”

Moira lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“It’s kind of personal, but I don’t have anyone really I can talk to about things like this. My mum’s hopeless and my Aunt Glynnis, well, she’s in a worse position than me.”

Anne tried to think where this was going, but she didn’t have a clue. “Things like what?”

“Men.”

Anne had to swallow a laugh. “I’m not sure I’m doing any better on that front right now. But I’m happy to help if I can.”

“I think Walter is getting tired of me.” Moira said, not making eye contact. “He treats me like I’m a servant or something. He tells me what we’re doing, where we’re going, but never asks if that’s what I want. I mean, I want to go, but it would be nice to be asked, like he cared what I want, like I matter.”

“I’m sure you matter.”

“Lord Reid told me you choose the places you two go for vacation. That he goes wherever you want to go. I thought that was so romantic.”

Anne almost swallowed her tongue. It was romantic, albeit completely untrue, and she wondered why he’d said such a thing to Moira. Besides their honeymoon, Terrence and she had never been on vacation together. But he must have had some reason for saying it, so she responded with just a smile.

Moira pressed her. “So how do you do it? Make him care about you like that?”

Anne couldn’t think of an answer, the image flashing in her mind of how he’d looked at her at the hotel when he’d found her with Andrew, how he’d asked if she’d already had Andrew up in her bed, how he’d told her he was done with her.

She decided to just be honest. “I’m not sure he still does.”

“He does. He wouldn’t get so jealous if he didn’t care. Walter would just be relieved if some handsome artist took me off his hands.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if he didn’t want me anymore.”

“Moira, a woman’s life is important with or without a particular man.”

“Maybe your life. Not mine.” Moira gave a little-girl-lost smile and went over to knock on Walter’s office door.

Anne heard a voice call out, then Moira opened the door and went in, closing the door behind her.