“An excellent idea.” Laying aside her napkin, she pushed back her chair. “While you’re upstairs, I’ll use your desk to make a proper list of the boxes.”
They rose and went into the hall; she and Charles watched as Nicholas climbed the stairs. Once he’d disappeared, Charles turned to Norris.
Who forestalled him. “Two of the footmen are already upstairs, my lord.”
“Good.” Taking her hand, he started for the door. “Your list can wait. Let’s get some air.”
She’d had enough of describing boxes and makers and marks; she let him tow her out onto the porch. “We could walk through the shrubbery.”
He glanced at the high green hedges, shook his head. “I’ve developed a dislike of your shrubbery.”
She looked at him in surprise.
“It’s too closed in, and this madman seems to like it.” He drew her arm through his and set off across the lawns, away from the shrubbery.
She thought, then glanced around at the wide lawns, the occasional trees, and nearby fields. “What if he uses a pistol?”
“He’d need to be reasonably close, within good range, and pistols have only one shot, have to come from somewhere, go somewhere, and are not all that easy to hide.” He paced beside her, looking down yet, she was quite sure, not seeing. “Besides, we’ve seen two of his kills. He likes to be close, for the act to be personal. He wants to kill Nicholas, and probably you, too, and certainly Amberly, but he’ll use a knife or his bare hands.”
She shivered.
He glanced at her, squeezed her hand reassuringly. “It’s actually his weakness. As long as we can keep him at a distance from you three, make sure he can’t get close, he’ll be stymied. Eventually, he’ll try something reckless, then we’ll have him.”
Looking up into his face, into his dark eyes, she saw nothing but supreme confidence. “You’re very sure of all this.”
Charles shrugged, looked down as they walked on.
“I suppose you’re used to it.”
For a moment, he didn’t reply, then he said, “That’s true in a way, but…I was usually in his position.”
Drawing breath, he looked up, met her eyes—and saw not the faintest vestige of shock or consternation. Rather, her expression was a mirror for his own arrogant resolution; she’d guessed the truth and didn’t care.
His lips quirked self-deprecatingly; looking ahead, he conceded, “You’re right. In this instance, it helps.”
They circled the house, then returned to the library, refreshed. Penny sat at the desk and composed a neat list. Halfway through, she put down her pen and wiggled her cramped fingers. “Remind me—why is this necessary?”
“Because once you’ve completed it, Norris and I will verify it as accurate, after which we’ll both sign and date it. Then even if anything subsequently goes missing, we’ll still have proof it was here.”
She considered the reasons why that might be useful, sighed, picked up the pen, and continued transcribing.
When she’d completed the list, Charles took it and, leaving her to enjoy her cup of tea alone, retreated with Norris to the priest hole. She mentally wished them joy. Then Nicholas joined her, looking better than he had; she poured him a cup, and they sat in silence—a more companionable silence than she’d shared with him to date. One benefit of adversity shared.
Half an hour later, Charles returned. He handed the list to Nicholas. “I’d put that somewhere safe.”
Nicholas glanced at it, then nodded. “Thank you.” His gaze shifted to Penny. “Both of you.” He drew in a deep breath, opened his mouth.
Charles dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t bother. We’re all in this together, and aside from anything else, after learning the whole story, I’m dying to meet your father.”
The comment surprised a bark of laughter from Nicholas. He swiveled to face Charles, but Charles, frowning, was moving to the windows that looked out along the drive.
“Visitors?” Penny wouldn’t have been surprised; news of the attack on Nicholas would have percolated through the local grapevine.
Charles didn’t immediately respond. Both she and Nicholas could now hear what he had; horses trotting up to the front steps. Charles started to smile, a smile that grew to unholy proportions as he turned back to them.
“Not visitors—Dalziel’s sent reinforcements.”
Two of them. Charles strode out to the front porch to greet them. Penny and Nicholas followed more slowly.