her on her daily walk, always came to her rescue. How long did he spend with her in the woods before carrying her home?
Was she ever missing at all?
“What was it Jessica said about Blent before we made the journey to London?” Finlay recalled it verbatim but sought her interpretation.
“Oh, just that she hated the thought of not telling him where we were going. That she feared something might happen to him in her absence.”
One might have presumed she’d show concern for Anne, but she hadn’t mentioned the maid, nor the cook or housekeeper.
“What do you think she meant?”
Sophia frowned. “I thought it was a case of her overthinking. Since she’s started sleepwalking, she fears for everyone’s safety.”
“What if she’s not overthinking? What if she cares for him?”
“But how can she care for anyone when her mind is in such turmoil?”
Finlay sighed. “I don’t know. What I do know is that we need to find Blent and ask a few pertinent questions.”
Sophia nodded. She took the sketches, placed them back inside the leather case and returned it to the table. “I believe the key to the house hangs on a hook near the front door.”
Four keys hung on the brass hook near the coat stand.
Sophia was about to unhook the small iron key when the sound of the hounds barking captured their attention. “They only ever bark when someone passes by the kennels. Blent trained them to frighten intruders.”
“Then let’s visit the kennels and discover what has the dogs spooked.”
They took the lit lantern, hurried from the house and followed the path past the dovecote to the small brick building. As they neared the kennels, Finlay heard a gruff male voice snapping commands.
“Wait here,” he whispered, handing Sophia the lantern.
“Yes. Be careful.”
Finlay crept closer to the closed door.
“Are they always so damn rowdy?” came the terse question. “Quieten down you wretched beasts. A good beatin’, that’s what they need, and I’m of a mind to give it to them.”
“Hush, Tom. Mr Blent paid you to feed the dogs, not beat them with a stick.” It was Anne. The wobble of her voice mimicked her skittish gait.
Finlay yanked open the door and glared. “When you’ve finished arguing, perhaps you’d like to explain what the devil you’re doing in here.”
“Oh, Lord!” Anne clutched her chest. “Mr … Mr Cole! Oh, d-dear. You’re b-back.”
“Indeed.” Finlay’s gaze shot past the trembling maid and settled on the scrawny man wearing provincial attire and a shabby felt cap. “Who the hell are you?”
The young fellow looked equally startled. Beating a dog was vastly different from beating a man. The panic in the lad’s eyes said he lacked the courage to do both.
“T-Tom Davies, sir. Anne’s brother. Mr Blent paid me to feed the hounds.”
“Why?” Finlay snapped. “Where’s Blent?”
Terrified, Anne glanced beyond Finlay’s shoulder. “Perhaps Mrs Friswell can explain, sir. She’s gone to Bisley but will be back in the morning.”
“You explain.”
“I—I’m not sure I know all the f-facts, sir.”
Sophia approached, holding the lantern aloft. “Anne? What on earth are you doing out here? And where is Blent?”
“Blent paid Anne’s brother to care for the hounds, and Mrs Friswell is in Bisley,” Finlay said. “Anne is about to tell us why.”
Anne nodded, her teeth chattering as if she had spent an hour in the icehouse. “Mrs Friswell went to collect supplies from her sister.” Anne heaved a breath. “She said the devil would soon reveal himself and we must be prepared.”
Sophia gripped his arm. “What on earth can Mrs Friswell mean?”
Finlay wanted to know about Blent, not the damn housekeeper, but Anne’s words chilled him to the bone. “Does Mrs Friswell practise the dark arts?”
Anne appeared confused. “The dark arts?”
“Witchcraft.”
Anne jumped in shock. “Sir, no! No. Mrs Friswell studies herbs and helps people with her medicines.”
That’s the excuse she used to appease the maid. But Mrs Friswell’s medicine was likely to blame for Jessica’s irrational thoughts.
“And her brother-in-law mends traps,” Anne added.
“Where’s Blent?” he demanded, for they would get little sense out of Anne.
“B-Blent?”
“Yes, Blent. The man you have worked alongside for five damn years.”
“He’s gone, sir, gone to London. Left in a right old panic.”
“London?” Sophia gasped. “Why in heaven’s name has he gone there?”
Hellfire!
There were only two reasons why Blent would dare leave his post. Had he accompanied the doctor in the search for his patient? Had he genuine concerns for Jessica’s welfare? Thank the Lord neither man had any hope of finding her in town.
“Did he leave with Dr Goodwin?”
Anne frowned. “No, sir. He