Darkest Dreams (16 page)

I didn't know what I would do about any of it yet, but I did know that I wasn't going to hide myself away in antiquities, as was my custom. When I saw him next, I'd not only let him know that I was unhappy with the way he'd left things, but I would…

What? I didn't know, but I had to figure it out before I reached Dragon's Cove this morning. Whenever he was around, rational thought escaped me.

Much to my surprise, I found Cassie in the kitchens, dressed for an outing, having a discussion with Mrs. Murphy. Mrs. Murphy did not appear happy.

“Lass, I know ye're fine, but you canna go to town today. The Killdaren will have all of our hides if he finds you gone. Give yourself a few more days rest before yer up and about.”

“The doctor says I'm fine. I feel fine. I'm only going to speak to Mrs. Frye, and I'll be back before Sean wakes up. I promise there is no need to worry.”

“But The Killdaren doesn't
know
that.”

“Yes, he does. The doctor has told him and I have told him.”

“He may know it in his head, but he doesn't in his heart. He's afraid of losing you, lass. Ye're gonna have to take it easy with him for a bit.”

“This is too important. I won't be long,” Cassie said, heading for the door.

“Wait,” I said, moving from the stair landing to make my presence known. “Mrs. Murphy is right, Cassie. You don't need to be running back and forth between here and town.”

Cassie turned and rolled her eyes. “Not you, too, Andrie. You're supposed to be on my side. Friday night upset me, resulting in a stomach cramp. Now suddenly everyone expects me to stop living life. I must hurry so I
can
return before Sean wakes.”

“I'll go with you.” Crossing the kitchens, I joined her near the door.

“Aren't you on your way to Dragon's Cove?”

“Yes, but I'm early and it won't matter if I'm a little late. So don't argue.”

“Fine.” Cassie tossed her hands up. “But I can't be coddled forever.”

“No, but you can learn to do two things.” I firmed my lips and tried to give her a stern look. “You can carry a lighter load and do more activities that relax you and make you happy inside. Things you do for yourself because you like them, like long warm baths and reading books or walking in the garden. Not the dozens of things you do for others. You haven't even sat down to write since you resigned from ‘Cassiopeia's Corner'.”

Cassie moved ahead as if she didn't hear me. “If you're joining me, then let's go.” After we descended the stairs and edged the elegant gardens, still colorful this time of year with huge, blue blossoms and bright yellow bells that shouted for a soul to stop and look, Cassie finally replied, “Are you and Bridget in league with each other? She said the same thing to me yesterday.”

“Well,” I hedged, “we have decided that you never take time for yourself. Just like now. Instead of resting you're off to town when you can easily send a message to Mrs. Frye and have a servant deliver whatever it is you're carrying in your basket.”

“No,” she said. “I can't do that. Because though I will see Mrs. Frye too, who I really need to see is Constable Poole and Jamie.”

We'd reached the stables and my steps slowed. “I don't think seeing Jamie such a good idea, Cassie. Good Lord. The man tried to hurt you twice. He kidnapped you!”

“Ever since Dr. Luden told us about what had been done to Mary, and that the same thing had been done to Lady Helen, I've had an increasingly harder time believing that Jamie is guilty of what everyone is now supposing he did.”

“And why is that?” Stuart Frye asked, exiting the open stable door. His stance was that of an angry man, confrontational and challenging, one that made him just as imposing and as dangerous as his half bothers Alexander and Sean. A carriage had already been made ready and stood waiting for us.

I jumped, startled by his appearance. Cassie only nodded, as if she'd expected him and didn't see anything threatening about him at all. She stared hard at Stuart. “Do you think your brother is guilty of killing Lady Helen and Mary?” she asked instead of answering Stuart's question.

“No,” he said roughly. “Why don't you?”

“Probably for the same reason you don't,” Cassie said. “And Constable Poole is going to hear me say it first. Then I'm going to make sure everyone in the village hears me as well.”

“It's not going to change anything,” Stuart replied. “Even if Jamie were to be freed, people would be afraid of him and would seek to destroy him.”

Cassie straightened her shoulders. “Then we will do what has to be done to protect him and your mother. Give them a new life in a different place if necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

Cassie smiled. “Haven't you heard about Stuart Frye and his family?”

Stuart frowned, and I looked at my sister twice, just to make sure she knew what she had just said.

Cassie cocked her head as if Stuart was daft. “Andrie, I know you've heard of Stuart Frye and his family. Why, the man is renowned for breeding and training the best horses available. Everyone in the world comes to Frye. I can't remember where the affluent man lives, America, Ireland or wherever he decided to make his start. But his hard work, together with the land and horses he inherited from his father, has made him famous.”

“Oh.” I nodded, my lips twitching with a smile. “Those Fryes. Yes, I do recall them now.”

“I've heard from a good source that Mrs. Frye has the most amazing blue eyes and fiery hair that just might be as warm as her heart. She holds classes every week for those too unfortunate to afford an education.”

Stuart blinked and stared, his dark eyes bleak. “Fiction belongs in novels, Mrs. Killdaren.”

“Then I'll have to write one.” Cassie squared her shoulders. “A story that reveals that a man without a dream is no man at all. You strike me as quite a man, Stuart Frye. And did you forget? Family calls me Cassie.”

Stuart didn't say a word, he just opened the carriage door and waited for us, but I could tell without touching him that Cassie had him thinking.

Cassie put her hand on his arm as she passed him. “I will make a difference. The Killdarens owe it to you, but more importantly, you deserve it. You have to help too.”

When Stuart still didn't answer, she told him. “You have to believe, Stuart Frye. Few men are strong enough to believe. Are you?”

Joining me on the carriage seat, Cassie sat back with a sigh. “This might not be too difficult of a position after all.”

“What?”

“Being the unemployed wife of a wealthy man. Since I'm unable to hold a worthy position and must focus my abilities to help others, I'm rethinking how I can still be a productive member of society. Do you know how many rights I can wrong, Andrie? It boggles my mind.”

I didn't know whether to laugh or to give my brother-in-law a wee warning. Either way, I thought it fortunate that Sean Killdaren was a
very
wealthy man. “Are you going to write that story you just spoke of, Cassie?”

She sighed. “I don't know, Andrie. Where would I find the time?”

“You need to find it, because a woman without a dream is no woman at all as well. Don't let life take away your dreams.”

Cassie frowned almost all the way into town, but I could tell that dishing her own advice back to her had made an impact.

A short while later, we entered Mrs. Frye's stone cell, and I had to brace myself. Not because of her living conditions, which were meager at best, but because of her antipathy toward Cassie. Mrs. Frye was a sour shell of a woman, with haunted dark eyes as sharp as her tongue.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Cassie set down the basket. “I've brought you some things.”

Mrs. Frye turned her back. “Take them and leave. They're not wanted. This is all your fault. If you hadn't come here then none of this would have happened.”

“It would have. Maybe not this summer, but it would have. Murder has a way of rising from the grave. You're unfortunately just going to have to live with the things in the basket and face a few truths as well,” Cassie said sternly. “I understand why you are bitter and see many reasons in your life for you to feel justified in being the harsh, unforgiving, and resentful woman you are. But you've brought most of it on yourself. A woman must be loving and giving before she can be loved and given to, and until you realize that you're never going to be free of the prison you've built around your heart and your soul. There are second chances in life. When they comes, don't waste them.” Cassie turned and left the woman alone in the chilly stone room. I followed, amazed by my sister's crusading abilities, sure that if she were given the world to fix, she'd have it spinning right in a day.

The jailor led us to a darker cell, one with heavy locks on the door. It was a very dank and cold place with an unbelievably horrendous stench to it. He didn't open the door, but just beat on the wood with a stick and flapped open a tiny slit. “Ye've visitors, Frye.”

There was no response from inside the cell.

I blinked at Cassie in the dimness and saw tears brimming from her eyes. “Jamie,” she called.

A shuffle and a moan sounded from inside the cell.

“Jamie?”

“M-m-mary?” came a hoarse whisper. “M-m-mary hurt you.”

“I know, Jamie. But it is going to be all right. Be strong for me, please. Can you do that? I need your help. Can you be strong for me so that you can help me?”

“M-m-mary. H-h-help M-mary,” Jamie whispered.

“I'll help, too,” Cassie cried, covering her mouth with her hand and rushing back down the corridor. I followed, feeling just as sickened.

“I didn't know. I didn't know they were treating him like this. Dear God.” Cassie marched directly to Constable Poole's office, located in another building. She didn't even knock but sailed through the door on a righteous wind.

Constable Poole barreled up from his chair. “Mrs. Killdaren!”

“What you're doing is cruel and inhumane, and you must change it immediately or you will no longer be a constable! I'll use every last pound of the Killdarens' wealth to see that you're the one buried alive in a stone cell if you don't move Jamie to an acceptable cell, now!”

I slid into the constable's office in the wake of my sister's thunder and noticed that Stuart stood near the window. He was staring at Cassie as one might at a terrible storm whirling in front of one's eyes.

“Mrs. Killdaren, calm yourself. The man kidnapped you and by your own account grabbed a knife to murder you. He may have also murdered Mary. I'm still trying to get Mrs. Frye to admit she's lying to protect her son. Jamie deserves worse. You aren't being rational.”

“Even if Jamie were guilty, he's not an animal to grovel in the dirt. He's a man with limitations and can in no way understand what is happening. I don't care what it looks like Jamie did. The connection between Lady Helen's and Mary's deaths provides enough doubt that everyone needs to seriously question his guilt. I don't think he did it. Why did you not mention the carved symbol to me and my family? Why did you ask Dr. Luden to keep the fact a secret?”

Constable Poole squared his shoulders and shook his head as if stunned. “Mrs. Killdaren, surely you're not insinuating anything criminal has taken place!” He bristled, agitated enough to cause his curled mustache to flap as he breathed. “I'll have to forgive your ignorance on such matters. It is common practice in murder investigations to keep certain facts secret in order to nab the guilty party. Also, even if that weren't the case, I don't see how this fact has any pertinence to you other than it traumatizes you and your loved ones more. You and your family have been through enough already. The guilty parties will soon go to trial, and this whole terrible thing will be over.”

“If that were the case then there wouldn't be a problem, Constable. Unfortunately it isn't. Neither Jamie nor Mrs. Frye killed Mary.”

“And your reasoning for this would be?”

“Jamie loved Mary.”

“That's it?” He laughed hard. “That's your whole reasoning in his defense? Did we not just discover last week that the man killed in the street had strangled his wife? I'm sure he thought himself in love with her at one time.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not to be rude, Mrs. Killdaren, but I've more important things to do with my time than to waste it listening to emotional declarations.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Constable Poole, you're forgetting the fact that in many ways Jamie is like a child, an innocent child. Given his size and strength, he could have easily harmed Mary in a moment of anger or hurt by hitting and pushing her, causing her to fall and hit her head. But I don't think he would ever take a knife and carve her up.”

“And why is that?” the constable demanded.

“I just told you why,” Cassie shot back.

I stepped forward, sensing Cassie was getting much too upset. Sean would have my head if Cassie were to have another episode. “What I think my sister is trying to say, Constable, is that if you have a duck that walks and talks and swims like a duck, and suddenly there is a savage and brutal attack on a swan that was in the water with the duck, do you then blame the duck? Or do you look beneath the surface of the water for a shark?”

“Exactly,” Cassie said, glaring at the constable.

“It wouldn't hold water in a court of law, Miss Andrews, but that was extremely well put,” Stuart said, speaking up for the first time.

“I suggest you start looking for the shark in Dartmoor's End, Constable Poole,” Cassie said. “Because I intend to let my belief in Jamie and Mrs. Frye's innocence be known. This coming from the very woman that Jamie Frye kidnapped won't help your case any.”