Chapter 8

I groaned as I pulled the car into my parking spot. “I hope I don’t run into anyone inside,” I said. “I want to go straight to my room and be ignored by everyone.” Sylvie invited me to return to the coach house with her for a glass of wine, but I couldn’t even muster the interest to do that.

But I didn’t get to my room before being assailed by Rhisiart. His car had already been in the enclosure when I parked, so I knew he would be inside.

“Eilidh!” he called, running up behind me as I approached my bedroom. I flinched and turned around.

“What is it?” I asked. I didn’t care how cross I sounded.

“What did you think of the cooking class?” I fixed him with a gaze through my narrowed eyes. I couldn’t believe he really wanted to discuss French cooking techniques right now.

“I enjoyed it, at least until Cadi opened her mouth at dinner,” I retorted.

“Indeed. What did you think of all that?”

“I think it’s a disgrace to dishonor Andreas’s memory with talk like that, and I believe Brenda is nothing more than a lovesick teenager who feels like her world is ending now that the subject of her affection has passed away.”

“You seem quite sure of that,” Rhisiart said.

“It’s entirely possible and it’s what I choose to believe,” I said flatly.

“Do you want to go to the pub with me and we can talk about it some more?”

“No. I’m sorry, Rhisiart. I’m very upset by all we talked about at dinner and all I want to do right now is be alone.”

He nodded, a look of disappointment—or was it anger?—crossing his face. “Sure. Whatever.”

“Goodnight, Rhisiart.” I closed the door behind me and waited, listening for his retreating footsteps. I didn’t hear them right away, but after several moments I could hear him walking down the corridor.

I wasn’t ready for bed, so I added more logs to the fire and sat in my armchair to read a book. But I was too restless for that, too, so I got up for my laptop and settled back down to do some research.

I spent the next two hours perusing different sites devoted to cocaine use, its symptoms, its effects, and treatments. Sure enough, Brenda did have some of the symptoms of cocaine use described by the websites I read. Runny nose, red-rimmed eyes, sniffling. But my reeling brain kept reminding me that those same symptoms were common among people grieving. I finally closed the laptop, my eyes tired from reading the screen for so long. I vowed as I got into bed that I would pay much closer attention to Brenda in the coming days to see if she exhibited any other signs of cocaine use. If she did…Well, I didn’t know what I would do. I had no choice but to wait and see.

In the morning Annabel wanted to hear all about the cooking class. She seemed to be in good spirits for the first time since we heard the news of Andreas’s death, so I went into great detail for her.

I had walked her through every step of the cooking class for several minutes when she gave me a funny look. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Quite suddenly I’m not feeling very well. A bit of a sour stomach. Can you tell me the rest of your story later? I’m not sure I want to talk about food any longer.”

“Of course. Can I get anything for you?” She shook her head. “Let’s get you to your room.” I took her by the arm and walked beside her up the stairs, noticing that her face looked ashen.

I helped Annabel into a thick robe and then texted Maisie, asking her to bring tea to Annabel’s room. I waited in her room for Maisie to bring the tea service, then poured the tea and helped her lie back against her pillows. She closed her thin eyelids and gave a long, tired sigh. When I offered the cup of tea to her, she shook her head and held up a limp hand. “No, thank you. Not right now. I’ll drink it when I wake up, dear.”

I waited for a few moments in the chair near the bed until Annabel’s breathing was slower and regular, then went back downstairs in search of Hugh or Rhisiart. I found Hugh in the drawing room and told him that his mother wasn’t feeling well.

“Really? What’s the problem?” he asked from behind his newspaper.

“She’s quite pale and her stomach is bothering her. She wouldn’t take the tea Maisie brought up to her room.”

“Probably a bit of indigestion. I’m sure it’ll pass. Do you know where Cadi is?”

“No.” I didn’t care where Cadi was, either. I was still angry from her malicious gossip of the previous evening.

“Would you send her in here if you see her?”

Hugh didn’t see the look I gave him because he hadn’t looked up from his reading. I wasn’t his servant. If he wanted to talk to Cadi he could find her himself.

I left and went downstairs to the kitchen. “Maisie, what are you planning for lunch?” I asked.

“Sandwiches and fruit salad,” she answered. “At least that’s what I was planning. Do you want something special?”

“Not for me,” I replied. “I think chicken soup might be nice for Annabel. She’s not feeling well.”

“Certainly. Just let me know when she would like it in her room and Brenda or I can take it right up to her.”

I thanked Maisie and went back upstairs, where Rhisiart was coming in the massive front door.

“Where’s Mum?” he asked.

“She’s up in her room. She’s not feeling well,” I replied.

“What’s the matter?”

“She complained of a sour stomach, but she was awfully pale, too. She’s sleeping now.”

“I have to ask her a question about the horses. I’ll talk to her when she wakes up.”

I wondered what that was all about. No doubt something that would upset Griff. Since I wouldn’t be needed by Annabel right away, I set off toward the coach house to see what Sylvie was up to. As I rounded the corner of the front of the castle, I almost ran into Griff, who was stalking toward the main door. His face was flushed.

“Griff, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Rhisiart has just paid me a visit in the stables. He’s talking about trading most of our horses for race horses! Can you believe it? I need to discuss this right away with Annabel. I can’t continue working here if my authority in the stable is going to be constantly undermined by Rhisiart.”

“I’m afraid you can’t talk to Annabel right now. She’s sick.”

He looked surprised. “What’s the matter with her? She never gets sick.”

“Her stomach is bothering her. I thought her skin looked very white, too. Hopefully a good long nap will set her to rights.”

“I hope so. I can’t go on serving two masters. Rhisiart seems to think I answer to him, but his ideas are in direct conflict with those of his mother, and she’s the one who signs my paychecks. I don’t know what to do anymore.” He shook his head in disgust.

“I’ll let her know you’re looking for her as soon as she wakes up,” I promised. “I’m sorry Rhisiart is giving you such a hard time. He can be rather pushy, can’t he?”

“That’s a very nice way of putting it,” he said, smiling. He turned to walk back toward the stables, then looked over his shoulder at me. “When are you ever going to get out for a ride?”

I thought for a moment. Why not now? Sylvie was quite capable of amusing herself for a couple hours, so she didn’t really need me to suggest activities for the day. And a ride might be just the thing I needed to clear my head after the events of the previous evening. “You know something? I think I’ll go right now. That may be just what the doctor ordered.”

“Great! Come back to the stables in a few minutes and I’ll have Penelope saddled up and ready to go.”

I returned to the castle and changed my clothes, then went out to the stables in search of Griff and Penelope. I found them leaving her stall, one in a long line of warm, sweet-smelling stalls that housed Annabel’s pets, the horses from her second husband’s polo-playing days. I stroked Penelope’s long brown muzzle and accepted a carrot from Griff to offer to Penelope while she sniffed at me and studied me with her huge dark eyes.

“You know what you’re doing, right?” Griff asked.

“Mostly, but it’s been a while. Can you just wait here while I get up on Penelope and remind me of the basics?”

“Sure,” he said with a smile. We led Penelope to the entrance of the stable, then I got up on her back once we were outside. She whinnied a bit, but it only took her a few moments to accept my presence and agree to be my partner for the ride. I sat atop her, looking down at Griff while he quickly reminded me of the basic rein motions. The things I had learned in my riding lessons returned as soon as he started talking, and I found that I hadn’t forgotten as much as I thought I had.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Griff asked as I turned Penelope around in a circle.

“I thought I would just head toward the woods and see where Penelope leads,” I answered.

“I wouldn’t,” Griff cautioned. “You want to be in control at all times. That way Penny here will feel secure and reassured that you know what you’re doing. It’ll make her nervous if she thinks you’re not in charge.”

“All right, then. Which way should we go?”

He pointed in the direction of the woods, then explained where his favorite trail began. “If you head down that trail, you’ll find yourself by a stream where you can give Penny a drink. Then keep going and you’ll head round by the entrance to the castle property. You’ll come out of the woods there, so just head up the road and the castle will be straight ahead. You can’t go wrong.”

I thanked him for the advice and started off at a slow canter in the direction of the woods. Or at least I tried to. Penelope had other ideas. Though I tried to show her I was in charge, she didn’t seem to be listening. She rather stubbornly headed in the direction to the right of where I was trying to go, and I suddenly wondered if I remembered my lessons as well as I thought I had.

Griff was watching Penelope take me in a direction I didn’t want to go. He came jogging up to us. “Penny,” he began sternly, “you listen to Eilidh. She’s the boss.” He handed me a carrot that I could use to bribe the horse, but as I reached down to grasp it I began to teeter to one side of the saddle. Flailing out one arm and grasping for Penelope’s mane with the other hand, I knew I was going to fall off the horse. I let out a cry and closed my eyes, bracing for the impact with the ground many feet below me.

But I heard an “oof” and opened my eyes to see I had landed on Griff, knocking him to the ground. He must have tried to stop my fall and gotten tangled under my body. I rolled off him with an embarrassed gasp and scrambled to my feet.

“Griff! I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?”

I could hear him wheezing, but he was facing away from me. Running around to the other side of Penelope, who was standing still as a statue, I knelt down on the ground so I could look into Griff’s face. I was shocked when I saw that he was laughing.

“Griff! What’s so funny?” I demanded. “Stop laughing!”

“I shouldn’t laugh,” he gasped, “but you should have seen yourself atop Penny! You’re not hurt, are you?”

“My pride is hurt,” I said with a grimace, “but otherwise I’m okay.”

He pushed himself to a seated position and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. “I was trying to catch you. Sorry I missed!”

I laughed. “I’m sorry I landed on you. I’m not very graceful, am I?”

He chuckled. “No less than anyone else who falls off a horse. Can I help you get back on Penny?”

I looked askance at the horse. “Maybe I shouldn’t ride today. I don’t want to spook the poor girl.”

“She’s fine,” Griff said, stroking Penelope’s muzzle. “She stood still when you fell, didn’t she? She knew it was an accident.”

“Maybe I can give it another try.”

“How about I go with you? I’m not sure you’re quite the rider I thought you were. That way if you have any issues, I can be there to help you out. Or up, whichever the case may be.” He gave me a broad smile.

I grinned. “All right. Hopefully there won’t be any problems, though. I didn’t mean to imply that I’m a better rider than I really am.”

“I don’t think you implied anything. I just assumed. Annabel likes to make sure the people she hires can ride so that she always has someone to go with her if she wants.”

“Then I’m afraid she got less than she bargained for when she hired me,” I said with a grin.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Griff winked at me and I could feel the color rising from my neck to my ears. He helped me up on the horse, then tied Penelope to a post while he went back to the stable to saddle another horse for himself. He walked the horse out to where I sat on top of Penelope, then untied Penelope and swung up onto his own horse, Caesar.

“Ready?” Griff asked over his shoulder.

“Lead on!”

The horses clopped along, Penelope following Caesar closely, across the field behind the stables. My nerves quieted and I concentrated on nothing more than the scenery around me. There was a fine mist in the air and it formed a foggy shroud between us and the wood at the far side of the field. “We’ll head right into those trees,” Griff said. “Caesar can practically walk this trail blindfolded. I take him out there at least once or twice a week. We might stay a little drier in the trees, too. It looks like we might be in for a bit of rain.”

“Should we go back?” I fretted.

“Not unless you want to. The trail is flat and easy, so the horses won’t have a problem with it. If you want to go back, we can go. But if you want some peace and quiet, I would suggest staying out here for a little while.”

He must have known the words “peace and quiet” would work like a salve on my soul. I nodded to him to lead the way, and he turned around and lifted the reins to nudge Caesar forward. Caesar was a huge black beast with a white streak down his muzzle, but he was as gentle as could be. He looked positively spooky in the misty woods in front of me and Penelope. The forest was almost silent except for the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ feet. A light wind stirred among the treetops, but I barely noticed the gentle whispering of the branches as they moved. Neither Griff nor I spoke for many long minutes, until I thought I heard the sound of water running. “Do you hear that?” I asked in a quiet voice. I didn’t want to break the spell the wood had cast on me, but I wanted to make sure I wasn’t hearing things.

“Yes. There’s a stream right over there,” Griff answered, pointing to his right. “Shall we ride alongside it?”

“I’d love that,” I replied. There was no sound I loved as much as that of water burbling. It was gentle, relaxing, and gave me a feeling of being far away from workaday cares. I followed Griff toward the sound of the water and before long I saw it ahead in the mist, tripping and dancing over stones in a winding path through the dense trees.

We stopped next to the stream and Griff swung off Caesar. Tying the reins to a tree growing right next to the water, he let Caesar drink his fill, which looked cold and refreshing. I was struggling to dismount from Penelope and Griff came over and held out his arms. I slid into them as gracefully as I could, which was decidedly inelegant, then hurried to tie Penelope’s reins to a tree near Caesar. Penelope didn’t need to be told what to do—she went directly to the stream and ducked her head to drink her fill noisily.

Griff had brought two oilcloths for us, so we were able to sit on the damp ground without getting wet. We sat cross-legged, Griff leaning against a boulder and I against a tree, and watched the horses drink. Caesar tossed his head and snorted.

“Easy, boy,” Griff said softly. The wood was so quiet that the horse could hear the soothing tone of his voice. Griff turned to me. “I don’t know what’s spooked him. He’s usually quite calm.”

“Maybe he’s feeling out of his element because there’s another horse with him. Is it usually just the two of you when you come this way?”

Griff nodded. “Yes, but I don’t think having an extra person and another horse around should bother him. He’s used to Penny, and you’re obviously not a threat.” He smiled at me.

“I know, but maybe he senses the stress I’m under.”

“You seem less tense to me, but I suppose Caesar is more sensitive to those things than most people are.”

“You might be right. I am less tense. A ride was exactly what I needed, I guess.” He nodded as if to say “I told you so.” We lapsed into silence as we listened to the gurgling water.

But Caesar wouldn’t stop whinnying, and Penelope eventually joined him, forming a duet of unease. Griff looked up in surprise when Penelope began making noises, then stood up and turned slowly in a circle, watching the trees closely. He squinted, then looked down at me.

“Looks like we’re not alone,” he said quietly. “The horses knew it. There’s someone over there among the trees.” He pointed in the direction from which we’d come.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know.” Then he raised his voice. “Hallo?”

“Hello there,” came the reply. Rhisiart. I would have recognized his voice anywhere. But apparently Griff didn’t, for he looked at me in confusion.

“Who is that?” he whispered.

“Rhisiart.”

He rolled his eyes. “I should have known. A lovely ride through the wood and he can’t even leave me alone for that.”

I chuckled. “Maybe he’s not stalking you. Maybe he’s just going for a walk.”

“Mark my words—he’s following me. Or you. He’s not here by accident. I can tell by the way Caesar and Penny are acting. They smell his pheromones. They know he’s up to no good.”

His words unnerved me. What could Rhisiart possibly want with either of us out here in the woods?

Presently Rhisiart came into view. It was no wonder we hadn’t seen him earlier; he was dressed in dark green trousers, a light brown jumper, and a brown jacket. He was riding Ghee, the tan horse from Annabel’s stables. Ghee was moving slowly, picking his way across the forest floor with great care.

“What is it?” Griff asked Rhisiart, a trace of annoyance in his voice.

Rhisiart didn’t answer at once, but waited until he had stopped next to us and slid from Ghee’s back to respond. “How cozy, finding the two of you here like this. I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” His eyes gleamed.

Griff swept his hand around the area where we were sitting. “Does it look like you’re interrupting anything?”

“Not really. Too bad for you, old bloke,” Rhisiart said to him.

I could sense Griff getting angrier with each passing moment. “What is it that you wanted, Rhisiart?” he asked, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“I’m just out for a ride. The damp weather makes me restless. I’m particularly fond of this trail.”

“Rhisiart, did Annabel wake up before you left?” I asked.

“No. I’ll talk to her when I get back.” Griff looked suspiciously from me to Rhisiart. He seemed to know that Rhisiart wanted to talk to Annabel about the horses and possibly more changes in the stables.

“You should probably turn around and head back to the castle,” Griff cautioned him. “Ghee hates to be out in the rain and it looks like the rain’s coming.”

“Don’t want me out here with you, huh?” asked Rhisiart with a chuckle. “Well, I’m leaving. Good luck, old man,” he added with a wink. I felt my face growing hot from embarrassment.

Griff and I waited in silence until Rhisiart had walked far enough away that we could speak without him overhearing us. Even then, we spoke in low tones.

“I don’t know how anyone stands the man,” Griff said, his earlier good mood vanished. “He’s ruined my afternoon. We should probably head back.”

“I don’t mind riding in the rain if you don’t,” I said. I was hoping to restore some of his good humor. It worked.

“You wouldn’t mind? I like riding in the rain and Caesar certainly doesn’t mind. Let’s give it a go and if Penny shows signs of wanting to go back, we’ll turn around. Otherwise we can press on,” he said with a smile.

We both stood up and I flailed about for a moment trying to get on top of Penelope while Griff folded the oilcloths. Then he gave me a boost and swung up on Caesar’s back once I was settled in my saddle. We hadn’t ridden far when the rain began to fall, but because we were sheltered from the worst of it we didn’t get soaked. I mostly noticed the rain because of the sound of the raindrops plopping on the leaves.

We rode beside the stream for several more minutes, then turned away from it and headed in the direction of the castle, invisible in the foggy, rainy distance. I was riding behind Griff and I found myself turning around every few moments to see if Rhisiart was anywhere nearby. I didn’t feel nervous, just curious. He seemed the type to enjoy his creature comforts and I wondered what would possess him to go for a ride when the weather promised rain. Was he meeting someone?

Griff said something that startled me out of my own thoughts. “Pardon me?” I asked.

“Are you lost in thought back there?” he asked, turning around in his saddle and grinning at me.

“I suppose so. I was just thinking about Rhisiart and wondering why he was out in the weather.”

“I’ve a feeling that Rhisiart does not wish to be figured out,” he said.

We had been riding for quite some time, and as we made our way back to the castle, I began feeling tense again. Our encounter with Rhisiart had me inexplicably rattled, and I was worrying about Annabel again. I hoped she would be feeling better by the time I got back to check on her.

Griff insisted upon brushing down Caesar and Penelope when we returned to the stables, and I thanked him for a lovely ride. “Anytime,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something more, but must have changed his mind because he said nothing.

I gave him a little wave and hurried back to the castle. I took off my coat and gloves in the main hall and listened for any sounds coming from within the castle, but it was silent. Eerily so. I had a sudden hunch that all was not well with Annabel. I don’t know what gave me that uncomfortable feeling—probably the utter quiet.

Taking the steps two at a time, I hurried up to Annabel’s room. I gave a perfunctory knock and opened the door. “Annabel?” I called in a soft voice.

“Mmmm.” I heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing her voice, as weak and low as it was. I had never been so glad to have a wrong hunch.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, walking closer to her bed.

She lolled her head from side to side, eyes closed. She looked horrible in the dim gray light sneaking in around the drapes.

“What can I get for you? Tea?” I asked. I didn’t expect her to want anything, and she didn’t surprise me.

“Nothing,” she croaked, trying to moisten her lips. I went to her vanity for a tin of lip balm. Annabel’s vanity was almost sacred to her and it was the only place she allowed herself to be messy and disorganized. I rooted among all the potions and vials until I found something that would soothe her chapped skin. I used a soft sponge to rub some onto her lips and she grimaced.

“I’m sure nothing tastes good while you’re not feeling well,” I said. “Let me get some hot tea up here and we’ll see if you can drink it. Does that sound all right?”

She nodded briefly, but still didn’t open her eyes.

I left the door open a crack while I hurried down two flights to the kitchen, where I found Maisie chopping vegetables next to the sink.

“Maisie, is there any hot tea water ready? Annabel is just barely awake and I think something hot to drink would do her good.”

“Should we call a doctor?” Maisie fretted. “She’s never sick.”

“I can ask her, but I’m sure she’ll say no. Besides, it’s really for Hugh or Rhisiart to decide whether to call a doctor, I think, as long as they’re here in the castle.”

Maisie nodded. “I suppose you’re right. The tea water is hot. I’ll make up a cup for her and take it to her if you’d like.”

“Don’t bother. I’m heading back up to her room so I can take it to her.”

Maisie poured the water over a tea infuser filled with chamomile leaves and the mellow floral scent began to waft through the air in the kitchen. I let the tea steep for a few minutes, then added a bit of sugar, some milk, and a slice of lemon. Before I took the teacup to Annabel, I grabbed a biscuit from the cupboard, thinking she might be interested in a bit to eat.

“Let me know if she needs anything else,” Maisie called after me as I went up the steps. I passed Brenda on her way downstairs and I smiled at her.

“How are you doing today, Brenda?” I asked.

“Okay, I suppose.” She ducked her head and hurried away when she reached the bottom of the stairs, probably to avoid talking to me anymore. I was conscious of having paid a bit too much attention to her face as I passed her, worried as I was about whether she was really using drugs as Cadi had suggested. I couldn’t get a good look at her eyes to see if she had been crying. Or something else.

But all thoughts of Brenda flew from my mind when I went into Annabel’s room. As I came around the door I had left ajar, the first thing I saw was a white hand on the floor. Tea sloshed all over Annabel’s night table as I set it down quickly, calling loudly for Hugh, Cadi, Rhisiart, Sian, anyone who could come help.

Annabel was lying face-down on the floor. A big bump had formed on her forehead and her eyes were open and glassy.