No one can pass her without smiling, because she doesn’t hoard her happiness, she radiates it for all the world to see.
Nell’s happiness came at a price, however. A few days after the long-awaited kiss took place—in full view of everyone at the stables—Emma had to advertise for an entirely new crew of stable hands. Thankfully, it’s worked out for the best. The new boys work ten times harder than the old ones, because they are under no illusions about Nell’s availability.
I wish I could be proud of the fact that the new stable hands spend more time watching me than they spend ogling Nell, but the only reason they watch me is that they’ve never seen anyone ride as badly as I do. Old Toby is as patient as Kit, however, and with their help, and lots of practice, I may one day be able to ride from one end of the ring to the other without hearing snorts of laughter in the distance.
Little Matilda Lawrence’s nightmares have stopped, as have Clive Pickle’s excursions into his brother’s bedroom, and I’ve had an easier time dealing with Miss Archer since she came back from spring break with a blond perm and a tan. The twins liked her old look better, but on parent-teacher days I’d rather face a surfer chick than the bride of Dracula. I’ve developed a strong aversion to anything that reminds me of Rendor.
On the night before Bill came home from London, I sat down in the study for a chat with Aunt Dimity. I expected to dazzle her and Reginald with a dozen revelations, but most of them fizzled pathetically.
228 Nancy Atherton
Aunt Dimity had, of course, figured out what was troubling Kit long before I had.
I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lori, but after everything you’d told me, I couldn’t help but conclude that Kit thought he was, or would soon be, mad.
He declared himself unfit for marriage, described himself as deeply fl awed, agreed that mental illness runs in families, and reacted badly when you mentioned the years he’d spent living on the streets. I didn’t know that he’d discovered a history of instability in the Anscombe family, but I knew what had happened to Sir Miles. It didn’t take much effort to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.
“Did you know that Christopher DuCaral was Kit’s father?” I asked.
I had my suspicions. Amy had spent a lot of time at Aldercot Hall, and she’d named the baby Christopher instead of Miles. I’m afraid it comes as no surprise to me to learn that her child was Christopher’s son.
“I suppose you already knew about Charlotte and Leo, too,” I said.
Everyone knew about Charlotte and Leo. It was the worst-kept secret in the county. I did not, however, know what had really happened on the night of their ill-starred elopement. When Lizzie Black told me that Leo had killed Maurice, I realized that something strange was afoot, because although Leo had vanished—as would a man guilty of murder—Maurice was very much alive. I’ve waited for nearly forty years to hear the truth, and I’m immensely grateful to you and Kit for unearthing it at last.
“I’m glad it worked out in the end for Leo and Charlotte,” I said. “It kept my ridiculous vampire hunt from being entirely pointless.”
Your vampire hunt may have been a bit ridiculous, Lori, but it certainly wasn’t pointless. It worked exactly as Bill and I hoped it would.
I reread the last line several times before asking Aunt Dimity to explain herself, which she did, in excruciating detail.
Bill didn’t believe you for one moment when you told him that you wouldn’t worry about Rendor. He knew that as soon as he left for London, Aunt Dimity: Vampire Hunter
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you’d go looking for the figure Will and Rob had seen, and he decided to put your vampire hunt to good use.
“He set me up?” I said in disbelief.
He wasn’t alone. He enlisted my help, as well as Kit’s and Emma’s. I did what I could to encourage you—I told you what I know about vampires, I sent you to see Lizzie Black, and every time you started to come to your senses, I inserted a note of doubt that would reawaken your concerns. Emma took over Kit’s duties at the stables so that Kit could accompany you. Bill was afraid that you might drive a stake through an innocent bird-watcher, and he counted on Kit to rein you in.
I glanced at Reginald, who seemed to be avoiding my eyes, and realized instantly that he, too, had been part of the cabal.
“You all set me up?” I said incredulously.
We had to do something to get through to you. You were taking the twins’ temperatures, peering down their throats, and palpating their glands so often that if they weren’t fundamentally levelheaded, they would have become hypochondriacs. You were calling the school nurse every morning to inquire about student illnesses and combing the news daily for reports on di-sasters and plagues. You were so drained by fear and worry that you never left the cottage. You neglected your neighbors, your volunteer activities, and your friends, because you had no energy to spare for them. We had to find a way to snap you out of your malaise.