Lucifer was frowning at her. "Filing, I think we should take Miss Tallent back to the Rectory so she can rest. We can discuss the matter more fully there." He glanced at Jem and Thompson. "I take it he got away?"
Jem nodded. "I barely got a glimpse of him. He was already through the lych-gate when I got here."
"Where were you?"
Phyllida waved. "I told Jem he could sit out at the front of the church and watch the ducks. I never imagined…"
"Indeed." Lucifer tightened his hold on her, tipping her slightly so it seemed natural to lean into his chest.
"I heard the scream and grabbed my hammer and came running," Thompson said, "but by the time I got to the lane, he was in the wood."
"I followed into the wood a ways," Jem said, "but then I couldn't tell which way he'd gone."
Lucifer nodded. "You did well. If he's following his usual pattern, he would have had a horse waiting. No sense running on."
Jem ducked his head, clearly relieved.
Filing had taken the robe and cord back into the vestry; now he fetched the urn, emptied it, and returned that, too, to the church. Phyllida watched as he shut the vestry door; the curate's face was pale and set.
Lucifer turned and headed toward the Rectory. Filing caught him up and fell in just behind; Jem and Thompson brought up the rear.
As they started down the sloping path, Phyllida leaned closer and whispered, "I'm sure I can walk. You don't need to carry me."
Lucifer's eyes met hers; the look in t
hem suggested she'd missed the point entirely. "I do need to carry you." His jaw tightened; he looked ahead. "Believe me, I do."
They trooped into the Rectory; Lucifer made for the chaise in the parlor. He lowered Phyllida, laying her along it so she could lie back. The loss of his heat, his muscled strength protectively around her, made her tense. She fought the urge to cling. She'd never clung to any man in her life.
But sudden panic rose as he drew his arms from her and straightened. Fright flowed like a chill through her and she shook. She knew he was frowning down at her, but she didn't meet his eyes.
Mr. Filing appeared with a glass of water. Gratefully, she took it and sipped.
Lucifer stepped back, then prowled around the chaise. Without looking, she knew he came to stand just behind her, a protective presence hovering over her.
Mr. Filing paced back and forth before the hearth. "This is shocking-most shocking. That anyone would dare-!" Words failed him; pressing his hands together in silent prayer, he stood for a moment, then turned to Phyllida. "Perhaps, my dear, you could tell us what happened."
Phyllida took another sip of water. "I was emptying the vases-"
"Do you always do that on Monday mornings?"
She glanced up and back at Lucifer. "In this weather, yes. Mrs. Hemmings brings flowers up on Tuesday, and then I change the vases again on Saturday. That's what we usually do-last week was different because of Horatio's funeral."
Lucifer looked down into her wide eyes, still dark, still huge, still frightened. "So it was common knowledge that you'd be at the church, most likely alone, with the vestry door open this morning?"
Phyllida hesitated, then nodded. She looked at Filing.
"If we could start at the beginning," Filing suggested. "You reached the church…?"
Phyllida sipped, then lifted her head. "I reached the church and as usual entered through the main door from the common. I left Jem outside, sitting on the steps."
"There was no one inside?" Filing asked.
Phyllida shook her head. "I picked up the vase from the altar and carried it through to the vestry. I opened the vestry door, propped it open, and took the vase out to empty it. Then I took it back inside."
"You didn't see or hear anyone about?" Lucifer asked.
"No. But…" Phyllida glanced up at him. "I was… absorbed. Someone might have been near, but I wasn't paying attention."