lack of moonlight prevented him from making anything out. The silent wait did funny things to his body. Sweat slicked down his back and his stomach gurgled. With each passing second, the gurgling grew in intensity, an unpleasant sensation that would normally have sent him running for the nearest privy. But he dared not move, even though he was in danger of soiling himself. Something didn’t feel right about the carriage sitting on the dark lane, with no lamplight.
With Sophie’s papa gone, there was no one to protect her but him. Teddy recalled the new people staying at her house. People she refused to talk about but always watched with a wary eye. No one knew them, and they seemed to just show up one day. When he asked Carson about the new people, the groomsman had told him to mind the shite and not the goings-on at the big house.
Teddy began to squirm, and his face flushed with heat. When he thought he would have to rush into the woods, the air around him stirred and a hint of foul odor assaulted his senses. Out of the darkness emerged the most hideous creature, one he’d encountered several times in the last sennight.
Silas.
Teddy’s eyes narrowed. The skeletal man’s body looked larger than normal, misshapen. Teddy hunkered down as the man drew near. The large, deformed lump at his shoulder materialized into a body. Sophie’s body.
She dangled over the man’s shoulder, unmoving. Teddy nearly gave his hiding spot away at the sight of his friend. She did not struggle or scream or curse her captor to perdition. She simply hung there.
Silas tapped on the carriage door, and Teddy’s heart stopped in shock when the window curtain parted.
A man inside said, “I see the governess held up her end of the bargain.”
“Yes, sir,” Silas said.
“And the governess?”
“Taken care of, as you instructed.”
“My message?”
“Delivered.”
“Very good, Silas.” The carriage door opened. “Place the girl on the bench and let us be off.”
After Silas completed his task, he shut the door and climbed up into the driver’s box. Once he was settled, the coachman flicked the reins and the carriage lurched forward.
Teddy rose from his crouched position and glanced toward Winter’s Hollow. He heard no sounds of rescue. Swinging his gaze back to Sophie, his knees almost buckled when the ambling carriage disappeared behind a wall of impenetrable black.
With one last look toward the big house, Teddy took off and he did not slow until his fingertips touched the metal rail of the carriage’s luggage boot. Having climbed rickety ladders all his life, it took little effort for him to maneuver himself onto the small ledge.
He folded his arms around his raised knees and winced when he felt something sharp prick his hip. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the wooden archer Sophie had given him. The carved piece stood with his legs splayed, one hand holding a bow and the other drawing back an arrow. He had been drawn to this figure from the first moment he saw it standing atop Dragonthorpe’s parapet, a brave soldier protecting his princess with nothing more than a bit of iron and willow.
At the crossroads, the carriage veered toward London and Teddy squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face into his upraised knees. He prayed his mama and papa would be all right without him.
Twenty-four
“Daughter,” Catherine’s mother said in a harsh voice. “The blood is not Sophie’s. Look, child. Look.”
Catherine blinked hard, her narrowed vision slowly expanding outward to include the governess’s body, with Cora hunched at her side. “Is she—”
“No.” Cora’s voice was grim, and the look she cast Catherine conveyed it was only a matter of time.
Catherine’s gaze slashed to the four corners of the bedchamber. “Where’s Sophie?”
Cora nodded toward Mrs. Clarke. “Perhaps she can tell us.”
Her mother tore a sheet off the bed and knelt on the other side of the governess. She looked at Cora. “Since my daughter is not trying to claw your eyes out, I take it you are a friend.”
The agent nodded. “Cora deBeau.”
“Evelyn Shaw,” her mother said. “Remove Mrs. Clarke’s hands, if you will.”
After Cora pried the injured woman’s bloody hands away, Catherine’s mother pressed the bed sheet to the oozing wounds at her stomach and lower back. The governess cried out and tried to curl into a ball. “None of that now,” her mother said. “We must stop the bleeding.”
Catherine dropped to her knees to assist, even though precious seconds ticked away.
“S-sorry.” Mrs. Clarke fumbled for Catherine’s hand.