“I don’t care what it’s called,” I said grumpily. “What use is a beautiful day if we’re not outdoors to enjoy it?”
“If you’re going to start playing the imponderable-questions game, I have one for you,” Kit retorted. “Where’s Leo? I went to Gypsy Hollow twice yesterday and again early this morning, and I’m willing to swear that he hasn’t been back there since you and I saw him on Friday. So where is he? Where has he been for the past two days?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m fairly sure we can rule out both Finch and Aldercot Hall.”
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I told Kit about my foray into Finch and my visit with the Pym sisters, then outlined for him the scenario I’d revealed to Aunt Dimity on Saturday evening. When I finished, he gave a low whistle.
“No wonder Charlotte reacted so strongly when she heard Leo’s name,” he said. “She’s a woman scorned.”
“She was scorned an awfully long time ago,” I pointed out.
“Which means,” said Kit, “that she’s had an awfully long time to brood over it. She was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
Leo’s name set her off.”
“Why did he come back?” I asked pensively. “He said he was on a sentimental journey, but what kind of sentimental journey takes you back to a place where you broke someone’s heart?”
“Perhaps he didn’t intend to break Charlotte’s heart,” Kit suggested. “Perhaps he came back to explain.”
“I seriously doubt that Charlotte will listen to any explanation Leo has to offer,” I said. “But I will. We have to fi nd him, Kit.”
“I’ve asked Emma to keep an eye on Gypsy Hollow,” he said. “If Leo turns up while we’re in Upper Deeping, she’ll ring me on my mobile.”
“Charlotte must have felt so lonely after he walked out on her,”
I said. “All those years, stuck in that house with her invalid father and her snooty mother and her crazy brother . . .” I sighed. “It’s not hard to understand why she’s still so angry with Leo.”
“She did have one friend, apart from Leo,” Kit said. “While you were running around Aldercot Hall in your bare feet, Charlotte told me that my mother rode to Aldercot almost every day, after she married my father and moved into Anscombe Manor. She and Charlotte used to walk along the river and talk about everything under the sun, the way women do. She went there less often after she became pregnant with me, and when the car accident happened, Charlotte lost her best—her only—friend.”
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“And you lost your mother,” I said. “How old were you when the accident happened?”
“I was barely a year old,” said Kit. “My mother was twentyfour.”
“So young,” I said, shaking my head. “Do you remember much about her?”
“I remember her smile,” Kit answered. “I think she must have been a very happy young woman, because her smile stands out so clearly in my memory. I’m almost glad that she didn’t live long enough to see my father . . . deteriorate.”
“Some blessings are extremely well disguised,” I murmured. I gazed somberly at the passing scenery for a while, then turned to Kit and asked, “Any luck with the online search?”
“Ah,” he said, giving me a sidelong glance. “I didn’t actually do an online search. Emma spent the weekend reformatting all the computers in the manor.”
“The new stable hands must have their own laptops,” I said.
“Why didn’t you borrow one of theirs?”
“I didn’t wish to inconvenience them,” Kit said stiffl y.
I suspected that I would be an Olympic equestrian champion before Kit would ask one of Nell’s rich young swains for a favor, but I said only, “Don’t worry about it. There’s always the Despatch.
I had a brilliant idea about the Despatch, by the way.”
“Only one?” Kit said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” I said, “but it’s a good one. I want to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Rendor is alive and well and menacing my children, right?”
“Right,” said Kit.
“I want solid proof that I can take to the police,” I said. “So instead of searching the Despatch for articles about the DuCaral family in general, I think we should focus on finding articles about the troublesome brother with the shameful desires. The police will laugh at
180 Nancy Atherton
me if I tell them a vampire’s on the loose, but I don’t think they’ll laugh about a missing person.”
“They might even try to find a missing person.” Kit reached over to pat me on the head. “Brilliant.”
“I told you so,” I said smugly, and watched through the windshield as the church spires of Upper Deeping came into view.