trying to question the footman once we were out of Winty’s hearing, but I conceded to the unlikelihood of his answering at all, much less telling me anything I wanted to know. Was Winty hiding Consuelo, or had his refusal to allow me the run of his house stemmed from some other matter of which he preferred I remained ignorant? Consuelo’s erstwhile beau might very well have something to hide, but the question persisted as to what.
But if young Davis, the footman, possessed any knowledge of my cousin, it was far more likely I’d hear about it in the roundabout way, once the information traveled through Newport’s network of servants and reached Nanny’s ear. With little other recourse, then, I trailed the young man through the house until he summarily deposited both me and a bemused-looking Katie on the front stoop, bid us a terse good day, and shut the door behind us.
My next stop brought me to The Breakers. Halfway up the sweeping drive, I brought my rig to a halt and sat staring up at the palatial mansion, newly rebuilt to withstand fire and any other catastrophe nature might conjure. I fully believed those solid stone walls could withstand even the power of the nearby ocean. Yet a sense of irony filled me. With all their vast stores of wealth, my Vanderbilt relations could protect themselves from only so much, could keep the ugliness of the outside world at bay for only so long.
My own brother, Brady, had been accused of committing a murder in this very house only a few short weeks ago. As those awful memories filtered through my mind, my gaze drifted to the balcony where a man had been pushed to his death—to land at my feet. And now here I was, so soon after one horrific experience, entangled in yet another murder involving my Vanderbilt relatives. A dreadful coincidence?
Sitting on the seat beside me, Katie shifted and adjusted the brim of her squat straw hat. “Is something wrong, miss?”
I blinked, not having realized how long I’d sat staring. “Oh, Katie. Is there some kind of curse hanging over the Vanderbilt family? How can this be happening all over again?”
She patted my wrist. “If it means anything, miss, I don’t believe in curses, though my granny Norah back in Killarney would call me daft. The Vanderbilts are havin’ a bad run o’ luck is all.”
“To say the least.” An unsavory thought struck me. “I was in the vicinity of both murders. I hope I’m not some kind of jinx.”
“You, miss? Never have I heard such nonsense. Why, you saved me last spring when I was in the family way, sacked from my job, and had nowhere to turn. And you saved your brother when he might have been hanged for a murderer. I just know you’re goin’ to find Miss Consuelo and you’re goin’ to save her, too, in whatever way she needs savin’.” Katie gripped my hand and squeezed; her eyes shone bright against her fair, freckled complexion. “Because that’s the kind of person you are. You don’t let others suffer an injustice if you can do aught about it. So no more talk of jinxes, miss. I won’t be hearin’ another word about it.”
I regarded her in astonishment. Though a case of nerves might bring on a slew of chatter, my otherwise shy housemaid had never strung together so many eloquent words at one time in all the weeks she had been working for me. And because of that—and because the words had come out calmly and deliberately—I knew she meant every one and hadn’t merely said them in an attempt to placate her employer.
In short, she’d spoken as a friend. And as a friend, I slipped my hand free of hers and reached my arms around her. After a moment’s hesitation she hugged me equally tight, and we rocked gently side to side like two sisters, or how I imagined sisters could sometimes be.
“Thank you, Katie,” I whispered through the curling tendrils of her fiery red hair. “That was quite the nicest thing anyone has said to me in the longest while.”
“It’s all true,
But if young Davis, the footman, possessed any knowledge of my cousin, it was far more likely I’d hear about it in the roundabout way, once the information traveled through Newport’s network of servants and reached Nanny’s ear. With little other recourse, then, I trailed the young man through the house until he summarily deposited both me and a bemused-looking Katie on the front stoop, bid us a terse good day, and shut the door behind us.
My next stop brought me to The Breakers. Halfway up the sweeping drive, I brought my rig to a halt and sat staring up at the palatial mansion, newly rebuilt to withstand fire and any other catastrophe nature might conjure. I fully believed those solid stone walls could withstand even the power of the nearby ocean. Yet a sense of irony filled me. With all their vast stores of wealth, my Vanderbilt relations could protect themselves from only so much, could keep the ugliness of the outside world at bay for only so long.
My own brother, Brady, had been accused of committing a murder in this very house only a few short weeks ago. As those awful memories filtered through my mind, my gaze drifted to the balcony where a man had been pushed to his death—to land at my feet. And now here I was, so soon after one horrific experience, entangled in yet another murder involving my Vanderbilt relatives. A dreadful coincidence?
Sitting on the seat beside me, Katie shifted and adjusted the brim of her squat straw hat. “Is something wrong, miss?”
I blinked, not having realized how long I’d sat staring. “Oh, Katie. Is there some kind of curse hanging over the Vanderbilt family? How can this be happening all over again?”
She patted my wrist. “If it means anything, miss, I don’t believe in curses, though my granny Norah back in Killarney would call me daft. The Vanderbilts are havin’ a bad run o’ luck is all.”
“To say the least.” An unsavory thought struck me. “I was in the vicinity of both murders. I hope I’m not some kind of jinx.”
“You, miss? Never have I heard such nonsense. Why, you saved me last spring when I was in the family way, sacked from my job, and had nowhere to turn. And you saved your brother when he might have been hanged for a murderer. I just know you’re goin’ to find Miss Consuelo and you’re goin’ to save her, too, in whatever way she needs savin’.” Katie gripped my hand and squeezed; her eyes shone bright against her fair, freckled complexion. “Because that’s the kind of person you are. You don’t let others suffer an injustice if you can do aught about it. So no more talk of jinxes, miss. I won’t be hearin’ another word about it.”
I regarded her in astonishment. Though a case of nerves might bring on a slew of chatter, my otherwise shy housemaid had never strung together so many eloquent words at one time in all the weeks she had been working for me. And because of that—and because the words had come out calmly and deliberately—I knew she meant every one and hadn’t merely said them in an attempt to placate her employer.
In short, she’d spoken as a friend. And as a friend, I slipped my hand free of hers and reached my arms around her. After a moment’s hesitation she hugged me equally tight, and we rocked gently side to side like two sisters, or how I imagined sisters could sometimes be.
“Thank you, Katie,” I whispered through the curling tendrils of her fiery red hair. “That was quite the nicest thing anyone has said to me in the longest while.”
“It’s all true,
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