Edwina stared at the doorway for the longest time, convinced now she had a reason for the doctored accounts, the multitude of repairs, and the mysterious ghost that haunted Rose Abbey.
Mrs. Page requests a new gravestone for the abbess.
She stood and went over to the fireplace, the deep well of sorrow that seemed to hang over the estate finally making sense.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the portrait of Lady Renalda. “I’m so very sorry.”
Chapter Eleven
Edwina worked forseveral more hours after the departure of Mrs. Page, carefully delving back into the notes of Merrywimple, Larkspur, and Worthington. The theft from Bascomb’s accounts had been occurring in a steady trickle since he’d inherited the estate eighteen months ago. It was really very clever. A lord who couldn’t review his own accounts. A series of secretaries who would be scared off if they got too close to the truth. If she hadn’t arrived, the theft could have continued for years before Bascomb realized what was happening.
Speaking of which, her employer had yet to make an appearance in the library as was his habit. Edwina tried not to be disappointed. It was only last night—
“Excuse me, miss. I’ve brought you a fresh pot of tea.”
Edwina startled at the sound of Meg’s voice, grateful the maid had interrupted the direction of her thoughts. Leaving the desk, she stretched her arms overhead and made her way to the settee. “Thank you. The pot Mrs. Page brought me earlier has grown quite cold.”
As before, Meg set down the tray but kept her gaze on the portrait of Lady Renalda. The maid sidled along the wall to approach the desk and pick up Edwina’s now cold pot of tea. The girl glanced at Edwina. “You aren’t scared like them, are you, Miss Collins?”
“You mean the other secretaries?” Edwina bit into a biscuit. “No, I am not.” She wasn’t about to allow Mrs. Page strutting about in a white sheet to scare her away from discovering the extent of the theft from Lord Bascomb. Nor would she allow Mrs. Page to get away with her assault of Edwina the previous night.
She tapped her lips with a finger. Mrs. Page must have run down the stairs after Edwina had fallen, discarded the sheet or whatever it was she wore when she pretended to be the ghost, then appeared below in her robe, acting as if she’d just been awakened.
“Mr. Fielding told me he saw lights in the graveyard and the church.” Meg gave her a wide-eyed look. “Bobbing about in the darkness. Scared him something terrible. Have you ever seen lights, Miss Collins?”
“No. And I don’t believe in ghosts. You shouldn’t either, Meg.”
The maid glanced over at Edwina’s desk stacked with papers and the ledgers. “Should I bring you another pot in a little while? Since you’ll be working on the ledgers?”
“No, actually I think I’m done for the day. Now that the rain has passed, I believe I’ll walk about the grounds and explore the ruins. The architecture is quite lovely. Possibly take a look at the gravestones or peek inside the church. Lord Bascomb is bound to come looking for me, and Mrs. Page has gone to Portsmith. Will you please inform him of my whereabouts?”
“Yes, but—Mrs. Page says for us—the staff, I mean—not to get close to the churchyard.” Meg bit her lip. “Best be careful, Miss Collins. The graves are loose at the edge of the cliff. And—” The girl’s eyes shifted to the portrait of the abbess. “Well, andshedoesn’t like it when you wander about and get close to her nuns.” Meg lowered her voice to a whisper. “The ones in the ground, I mean.”
“Have you seen her, Meg? The abbess?”
The maid’s feet shifted, fingers plucking at the fabric. “Only once, miss. All in white. Skirts floating about. I heard something scratching at my window, and when I looked outside—” The girl paled. “I was scared something terrible. I heard how they talked about Rose Abbey in Portsmith…but never believed it.” She shook her head. “But there ain’t many opportunities in the village. Wages here are more than I can earn at the tavern or taking in mending.” Her thin shoulders gave a shrug. “Been here since Lord Bascomb came. I mean,thisLord Bascomb, miss.”
“And you’re the only maid that’s ever worked here?”
“Another one of the girls in Portsmith came with me, but she left. Now it’s just me and Thomas. And Mrs. Page told me there’s nothing to fear from Lady Renalda.”
“There isn’t,” Edwina said firmly. “If anything, say a prayer for Lady Renalda and her nuns.”
Chapter Twelve
Edwina pulled hershawl tighter around her shoulders and strolled through the remains of the abbey, admiring the architecture of the wide, gothic arches. The ground here was swampy in patches, moisture still dripping down the stone. She jumped across a string of puddles, intent on making her way to the churchyard. The wind kicked up, billowing her skirts as she approached the first grave marker. She took her time, peering down in an attempt to read the stone etched with dates, but the elements had erased the names from most of the stones.
Not only did she not find the grave of Lady Renalda, but none of the stones appeared to have been recently carved.
A heavy weight landed firmly on Edwina’s shoulders at the news she must give Bascomb.
He’d become important to her in such a short time, almost from the instant Edwina had caught sight of him, insulting her from behind the desk in his study. And regardless of what their future held after their passionate encounter last night, Edwina owed it to Bascomb to tell him that his housekeeper was skimming from his accounts and had frightened away the other secretaries from Rose Abbey.
Not to mention that she had tried to harm Edwina.
She stepped over a small, nearly dead rosebush, pulling up her skirts, and felt something in her pocket. Reaching inside, she pulled out the leaf she’d found beneath the desk. Edwina studied the leaf, now dry and starting to crumble. When she returned to the library today, she would look more closely at the bookcases along the wall. Now that she knew more of the story of Lady Renalda, Edwina hadn’t any doubt that there was a hidden door. The other nuns would have gathered in her office when the soldiers came.
If the abbey possessed any wealth, it was reasonable to expect that the gold went with the remainder of her flock, all without being seen by the soldiers. Which meant there was a passageway out of Rose Abbey, accessible through the library.
