A Mischief in the Snow - By Margaret Miles Page 0,53

Knowles, though of course I have heard of her situation. Madam, how do you do?”

Magdalene, still encased in her cloak, blinked and drew back further.

Longfellow supposed Rowe had been offended. He wondered himself if Magdalene might be mute. Perhaps she was merely stunned, or tired. Certainly the lady had good cause, for she must have walked several miles that morning.

He went and knelt before the perplexed woman, holding out his hands. She stared briefly into his eyes, as she'd done with the attorney. Then she looked down to her feet, and he took it upon himself to unlace her boots. She waited like a child, and finally stood to allow him to take her cloak.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “Are you hungry?” She shook her head to this, but then said her first words since she'd entered the house.

“May I have a cup of tea?”

“Of course. Rowe, what do you suppose Lem and Reed are doing upstairs?” The minister wondered himself, and left them.

“Now,” said Longfellow, “there is the can of tea, Miss Knowles, and here is the pot. I presume you know what to do with them. I will watch, and talk with you a little, if I may. It was a long walk here, was it not? Are you tired? Would you prefer to lie down upstairs?”

“I often walk,” Magdalene answered. Longfellow decided that she had received much benefit from it. “I am not tired.” Neither was she bent or weak, he saw. In body, she seemed a healthy woman.

“There,” said Diana, rising wearily to her feet. “At least all of it is covered. I'll take the teapot, Richard, and see to Miss Knowles.”

Amazed, her brother allowed her to take the vessel he still held. It appeared that Diana's brief encounter with motherhood had changed her significantly—and her time as a nurse, he reminded himself with a twinge. Having something of importance to do now might be balm for her own bruised spirit.

Looking through a window at the snow, he observed that the light was nearly gone. Considering the worsening weather, he then asked himself if the constable would appear, after all.

He soon had his answer.

Chapter 18

POUNDING RATHER THAN knocking, John Dudley startled them all. Orpheus let out a volley of growls; Longfellow lunged for the door, and let the constable in.

For once, he was nearly sober. Still, when Dudley caught sight of a body lying by the fire, he became less sure of himself. His eyes went to the ceiling as he heard boots creaking across the floorboards.

“The boy's up there?” he asked Longfellow.

“With Moses Reed, and Reverend Rowe. I presume they are asking him questions of their own.”

Dudley grumbled, and looked for the way out of the kitchen.

“Not so fast,” Longfellow ordered. “First, I need your help with Mrs. Knowles. From Boar Island. One of your near neighbors, I think.”

“How is she here?” Dudley blurted.

“There's been an accident. Now, she needs to be taken up to a bed. If you'll lift an end of that blanket, I'll take the other. Careful, man! She's been badly burned.”

“How?”

“It appears she fell, or stepped too near the flames at one of her own hearths. An old story, I'm afraid. Perhaps Magdalene Knowles, standing behind you, will be able to tell us more. Or Lem, more likely. Lift—gently, now!”

Together, they took the old woman, who moaned at the inevitable jostling, across the kitchen and up the stairs. Once they'd reached the upper hall, the two took their burden to the middle bedroom where they found a good fire prepared.

Lem and Moses Reed sat on the bed, their heads close together. The minister, meanwhile, used the opportunity to look around him. Longfellow reminded himself that this was Mrs. Willett's winter bedroom, which she currently occupied. A strong reaction to its invasion nearly overwhelmed him, until he heard his sister behind him.

Diana expressed her own shock at the fact that the bedclothes had not been folded back. She prepared the bed in her own way; then they eased the light body onto the smooth sheets, and it was covered.

Catherine's white eyes seemed to have darkened. Longfellow concluded that Charlotte must have opened her store of opium gum kept for emergencies. In another moment, Mrs. Knowles sighed. Her features relaxed, and it appeared she might be dreaming.

Charlotte and Magdalene entered, making the place altogether too crowded.

“We'll withdraw, gentlemen, and go below,” Longfellow said firmly.

“But I shall stay,” Moses Reed countered. “For reasons you'll understand shortly. It is of some importance,