‘There is at least an hour’s daylight left and a little fresh air will clear my head. I am only going to the churchyard, Papa, but I think I shall go straight to bed afterwards, so I will say goodnight to you both now.’
Grace went upstairs to fetch her cloak and found the maid turning out the trunks.
‘You should have left that for me, Betty, I am sure you have been rushed off your feet today.’
‘Nonsense, Miss Grace, it’s been a pleasure to put away all the new clothes you bought in London. Well now, I never expected to see this old gown again.’ She lifted out the yellow muslin. ‘You must have had it for at least four years.’
‘I had the hem repaired while I was in town,’ said Grace, trying not to sigh at the memory. ‘It was done by a lady who used to work up at the hall, you may remember her. Annie Meesden.’
‘Oooh, yes,’ said Betty, her face lighting up. ‘She was brutally done to death, wasn’t she? Mr Truscott read it in the master’s newspaper. It said Mr Wolfgang Arrandale had been taken up for it.’
Grace did not know how to reply. She felt suddenly stifled by memories and her fears for Wolf. She needed to get out into the fresh air.
‘So she was reduced to taking in sewing, was she?’ said Betty, inspecting the gown. ‘Well, she did a good job on this, I must say.’ She frowned and peered closer at the muslin. ‘Hmm, she thought a lot of herself, sewing her mark into the hem.’
‘Yes, I saw that,’ murmured Grace, hunting around for her cloak.
‘But it’s not her initials, is it?’ Betty continued. ‘That would be “A.M”. And look, miss, she has embroidered “M.K. One-six, one-six”. I wonder why?’
Grace barely glanced at the embroidery on the hem of the old gown. She did not want to think any more about the dresser, or murder. Or Wolf. At last she found her cloak and threw it around her shoulders as she hurried away.
* * *
Outside the house Grace took a deep, steadying breath. Even with a low blanket of cloud covering the sky it felt so much cleaner and fresher here than Hans Place, where the dust and dirt of the ongoing building work hung in the air. She walked briskly to the churchyard. Tomorrow she must see Loftus and explain everything, but tonight there was something equally important she must do, for the sake of her conscience.
The flowers she had laid by Henry’s headstone before going to London looked withered and grey in the fading light.
‘I am sorry I have not brought fresh ones,’ she murmured, sinking to her knees. ‘And I am sorry for a great deal more.’ She gazed sadly at the ground. For five years she had thought her heart was buried here, with Henry. She knew that the innocent, girlish passion she had conceived for Henry Hodges was nothing to the love she now felt for the dark and brooding Wolf Arrandale.
‘But he is as lost to me as you are,’ she whispered, running her fingers over the rough lettering inscribed on the headstone. ‘More so, because he does not want me. And even if he did, I am promised to Loftus. All I can do is to pray that Wolf will prove his innocence. I want him to be happy, that must be enough for me.’
There. She had made her peace with Henry. Grace blinked away the threatening tears, fixing her eyes on the final words engraved on the headstone.
We are the children of God
Rom 8:16
She froze. The air in the graveyard was very still. Nothing moved, there was no sound. In her memory she was seeing again the delicately embroidered numbers and letters on the yellow gown.
‘It is not a seamstress’s mark at all,’ she muttered. ‘It is a biblical reference!’
* * *
Wolf was in no mood for family reunions. The sight of Richard and Cassandra, both deeply in love with their partners, only intensified the aching emptiness of his own life. After dinner he remained in the drawing room for barely half an hour before retiring, declaring he was too tired to stay awake.
As he crossed the hall there was an urgent knocking at the door and he stepped into the shadows beneath the stairs. Had his pursuers caught up with him already? Croft opened the door and Wolf heard a familiar voice enquiring urgently for Mr Arrandale.
‘Grace?’ He strode forward and she ran past the astonished butler.
‘Thank heaven I have found you! I must tell you—’
‘Hush now, come into the library where we may talk privately.’
He led her across the hall. The library was in a state of disorder, for Sophia had ordered the servants to examine every book in their search for the missing necklace. Two servants were still going through the shelves, but Wolf dismissed them and gently guided Grace to a chair beside the empty fireplace.
‘Have you run all the way here?’ He asked, kneeling before her and clasping her trembling fingers. ‘Let me get you something to drink.’
‘No, nothing, thank you.’ She was still out of breath, but he noted now that her eyes were gleaming with excitement and not distress. ‘I think, I am sure, Meesden left us a clue about the necklace. On the gown she repaired for me. Her landlady said she had been working on it when Urmston came to see her. It was neatly folded and left on the table with her Bible resting upon it. I think that in itself was a message.’
