Secret Reflection

11


Day Ten

Having anticipated a dreadful ordeal, Kelly came away from police headquarters in Oxford feeling light-headed with relief. Tom had been kind enough to escort her, and had refused to be separated from her throughout the hour-long visit. She suspected that Nancy had given him strict orders not to leave her alone, no matter what. Detective Inspector Mathieson didn’t deign to meet her. According to the young constable who’d led her inside from the front counter, the ‘DI’ had been called out on another case.

The young man, who seemed barely out of high school, led her into a small room where they took her fingerprints and made photocopies of her passport and other papers. Apparently they already had photographs that were taken while she lay unconscious at the hospital. After the fingerprints they took a swab of the inside of her mouth and then she waited in reception for a further ten minutes before the constable came back out to say that she was free to leave.

‘That’s it?’ she asked in surprise.

‘Yes, Ms Reid. If the DI needs anything further, he’ll call you.’

Tom didn’t wait, wheeling her around and out the door before she could blink.

‘I reckon they have someone else under suspicion,’ Tom stated as he pulled the car out of the parking bay.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘They were just going through the motions in there. I always thought it was ridiculous that they suspected you anyway. What did Mathieson think – that you killed Deanna and knocked yourself out afterward?’ he shook his head. ‘Made no sense to me.’

‘I didn’t really consider that. Though now that you say it …’ She shrugged. It was impossible to second-guess someone like Inspector Mathieson.

Kelly fell quiet on the trip back to Stanthorpe, distracted by her planned rendezvous after lunch. She hadn’t told either Tom or Nancy of Richard’s midnight visit and at this stage she didn’t intend to. She still wrestled with how she could gain access to the journal but avoid sleeping with Richard to do it.

‘Do you mind if we stop at Abingdon on our way home?’ Tom asked, breaking the silence. ‘I need to pick up some ginger tea for Nance, the morning sickness has hit with a vengeance and the nurse at the health centre suggested the tea might help settle it.’

‘Sure, not a problem.’

When they pulled up near Stert Street, Kelly spied a kidswear store and her eyes lit with delight. She wanted to buy Nancy and Tom a gift to celebrate Nancy’s pregnancy, and while Tom went off in search of the tea, she’d take the opportunity to find something extra special for them.

Kelly climbed from the car and called to Tom as he crossed the street to let him know where she was headed. He gave her a wave and a nod before disappearing into a small store across the way.

Inside the quaint little shop she found a mesmerising array of merchandise for babies and little ones, and she suddenly felt her own body-clock ticking away inside her. Her heart melted when she picked up the tiniest pair of baby’s socks embroidered with miniature teddies, so small that she was certain they would fit a doll. Behind the counter sat a display of teddy bears of every size and colour.

‘Anything in particular you’re after?’ the girl, who lounged by the till, asked.

As Kelly took in the girl’s face, she couldn’t help but wonder if she knew her.

‘I’m not sure yet,’ Kelly answered vaguely.

Tom bustled into the shop with a grin spread from ear to ear. ‘I was waiting for the shopping to start.’ He turned to the girl behind the counter. ‘Hi, Maureen. Not working at the pub today?’

‘Hiya, Mr Wentworth. Mam’s over at Dee’s house helping prepare for the funeral tomorrow.’ She glared at Kelly with harsh eyes momentarily before turning her attention back to Tom. ‘So I’m stuck here until closing.’

Ahh, Kelly thought. That was where she’d seen her. Maureen was the girl in the pastry-chef’s uniform the day Deanna had tackled her in the rest rooms.

Tom nodded his understanding and began browsing the merchandise. ‘I cannot believe how small this stuff is,’ he commented as he lifted a tiny t-shirt off one of the racks. It was bright red and had a picture of the Cookie Monster on the front.

‘Get used to it, Tom. Babies generally start out pretty small.’

He grinned back at her with that glowing expression she’d seen on both him and Nancy almost continuously since they’d received the news.

‘Can I look at that big bear you have up on the top shelf?’ she asked the girl.

Maureen narrowed her gaze but retrieved a stepladder from by the door and climbed up. ‘It’s the most expensive,’ she said coldly, ‘ninety-nine pounds.’

Kelly shrugged lightly. ‘In this instance, money is no object.’ When the girl handed her the plush bear, Kelly almost sighed. It was the softest thing she had ever touched in her entire life. ‘I’ll take it,’ she said without the barest hint of hesitation. She dug in her handbag for her wallet and extracted her credit card.

The girl frowned continually as she processed the sale and Kelly wondered whether the girl also suspected her of killing Deanna.

As they exited, Tom told the girl he’d see her at the funeral.

‘I don’t think she likes me very much,’ Kelly commented as they made their way back to the car.

‘She’s Deanna’s best friend. While I’m sure the police have kept things close to their chests, people do talk and I reckon the whole village knows you’re on the list of suspects.’

‘Possibly, but she was also working at the pub that day when Deanna first warned me off Richard. And if they were best friends …?’ she let the sentence hang. Chances were the girl would have spread a story or two of her own after Deanna’s death.

‘Don’t worry about it, Kel, the truth will come out soon enough.’

Nancy promptly burst into tears when she opened the colourful carry bag that contained the bear. ‘Oh, sweetheart, isn’t it gorgeous?’ she exclaimed to Tom as she hugged it close and rubbed her cheek against the soft fur.

Watching her friend’s joy made Kelly’s eyes well.

‘Let’s go to the local for a celebratory lunch,’ Nancy suggested. ‘We haven’t had lunch in the village for ages and I’m beginning to feel a bit cooped up around here.’

‘I promised to be over at Richard’s at one. He says he has some books and things at the coach house and the journal could be amongst them. Why don’t you two go and have a romantic lunch together?’

Nancy and Tom exchanged an emotionally charged look. ‘What do you say, Mrs Wentworth? Care to go on a date with your old hubby?’

‘I’d be honoured, Mr Wentworth.’

Kelly left them giggling like teenagers as she headed up the servants’ stair to her room.

John greeted her with a look of concern the instant she closed the door. ‘How did you fare in your interview with the constabulary?’ he asked.

‘Actually … not too bad. They just took my fingerprints and recorded a formal statement. Inspector Mathieson wasn’t even there.’

‘I have heard these “fingerprints” mentioned previously. What are they?’

She grinned and moved close to the mirror, holding up her hands. ‘See the swirling patterns on each of my fingertips? If you look closely, you’ll notice they’re all different.’ He nodded and cast her a questioning gaze. ‘Apparently, no two people have the same pattern, so the police use them to identify suspects. We leave prints on whatever we touch … there’s oil in the skin that stays on everything. The police use this special dust that shows the prints up, and then they match them against those they have on file.’

Eyes wide, John appeared completely astounded. ‘I saw them brushing black powder on your belongings when they were searching your room. I did wonder at it.

‘But how do they know that no two are the same? It must take many hours to compare the patterns.’

Kelly smiled, realising this explanation was going to take all day if she let it. ‘Well that’s where computers come in,’ she gestured to her laptop. ‘They kinda do the thinking for us … or in this case they compare the prints. The computer can look at thousands in just seconds.’

John shook his head in utter disbelief. ‘I am not certain I could ever live in your world, Kelly. It is far too confusing.’

Again she smiled. ‘I’m sure you’d catch on quickly enough,’ she assured him. She certainly hoped he would because she had every intention of releasing him from the mirrors and bringing him into the twenty-first century to be with her.

With each passing moment she became increasingly sure that he was the man she was meant to be with … the man she should have fallen for from the very first. If Frank hadn’t deceived her she would never have entertained marriage to him. But she’d been seduced by the temptation he represented: the temptation that he dangled before her like a prize.

Even now her father was fighting a court case against Frank to prevent him getting his hands on half of her trust fund. Thirteen million was a lot of money in anyone’s book. It was what Frank had been after all along, though she had been too deluded by his pretence of a grand passion to realise the fact.

Now she knew what grand passion could really be – though ironically she hadn’t even laid a finger on the man she knew would give her that. But in her heart she knew he would be the only one able to kindle that flame on every level of her being. That was why it was imperative that she keep her appointment with Richard, no matter the cost.

This time, she chose her clothing with a view to it repelling any amorous ideas that Richard might have. She wore belted, button-up jeans, hiking boots, a blouse that had about twenty tiny buttons that even she found difficult to undo and her fingers were quite small. Over that she had a sweater. And just for good measure, she wore the plainest, most unattractive underwear she owned. She hoped it wouldn’t get that far but she had to be ready for anything.

Feeling a little queasy, she opted to skip lunch and, after bidding farewell to Tom and Nancy, she sat back and spent an hour answering the myriad of questions that John asked about the various electrical devices in the house.

‘How long are you going to keep me here?’ Richard asked Inspector Mathieson as soon as he returned to the interview room.

Mathieson glanced up from the papers he was reading. ‘That depends on you, Mr Ditchley. I’m not satisfied you have told me the entire truth. When I am satisfied, if you are not under arrest, you may leave.’

‘But what more can I tell you?’ he begged in frustration. ‘Deanna used to do odd jobs on the estate to earn pocket money because her father was too tight to give her any. I don’t know what nonsense Will Montgomery has been telling you but I can assure you—’

‘Is there any reason why you do not wish to provide a DNA sample?’ Mathieson interrupted.

Narrowing his eyes Richard looked away. ‘I’m not about to provide anything until you tell me why I’m here. Am I under arrest?’

‘Not at this time.’

‘Then I can leave?’ He started to rise.

‘Remain seated, Mr Ditchley. We are a long way from being finished here.’

‘Then I expect I should call my solicitor.’

One of Mathieson’s thick brows rose. ‘Do you think you need a solicitor, Mr Ditchley?’

Richard ground his teeth. ‘I don’t know, but I’m not just going to sit here indefinitely so you can keep asking the same inane questions over and over. I’ll talk to my solicitor and we can take it from there.’ He crossed his arms, silently challenging the inspector to deny him further.

‘By all means,’ Mathieson smiled a cocky smile as he stood, ‘call your solicitor. While you’re at it, ask him what the penalties are for statutory rape. I’m sure you’ll find his answer most enlightening.’

Richard lifted his chin in defiance.

Mathieson placed an old-fashioned telephone on the table between them, then turned and left.

Richard watched him leave then sneered at the glass where he knew a whole bunch of other officers stood gawking at him. He’d seen all the police shows. He knew all about one-way glass.

Picking up the receiver he extracted the business card he had brought along just in case, at the same time wondering whether he might be able to place a call to Kelly as well. The man hadn’t said anything about being restricted to one phone call. Obviously he and Kelly couldn’t have their rendezvous this afternoon, it was a little before noon now and he was unlikely to get back home by one even if his lawyer could get him out of here. A shame, after last night he’d been so looking forward to finally seducing her.

After he spoke to the lawyer, he turned his chair to face the glass and crossed his legs nonchalantly. They had nothing on him except hearsay, and so long as he didn’t give them a DNA sample, he should be safe.

‘Hello?’ Kelly called as she pushed the front door of the coach house open. ‘Richard?’ When he didn’t answer she drew her brows together to form a crease at the top of her nose.

Maybe he was waiting for her in the bedroom, not even bothering to hide his intent. Well, he’ll have a fight on his hands if that is his plan.

After checking the kitchen, she moved cautiously down the short hallway, listening intently for any sign of life. She pushed open the bedroom door and let out a long slow sigh of relief when she found it empty as well. Her frown deepened. She didn’t understand it. He’d been so determined last night.

Still listening, she went from room to room then opened the rear door and walked around to the garage. Two cars filled the cavernous space.

‘He mustn’t have gone far,’ she mused as she went back inside.

Glancing at her watch, she returned to the living room to wait. She’d give him fifteen minutes. No more.

After sitting for a couple of those minutes, her nervousness got the better of her and she decided she might as well use the time to search through the crates and see if she could find the journal.

The top crate was half empty and Kelly could see that most of the books inside came from a time much later than the journal. Many appeared to be from the nineteen-fifties and sixties: classic cars and estate homes pictorials.

Didn’t he say he thought he’d found it? If that were the case, then surely he’d have put it somewhere safe, she reasoned. Again she went from room to room. She had no real idea what the journal would look like, although she expected it to be similar to John’s since they would have been written around the same time.

The kitchen was as bare as the living room, although it took quite a while to discover the fact. The bedroom? She went through all the cupboards and drawers, in the process discovering that the man had more clothes and shoes than she had! Just as she was about to head out she noted something sticking out from under the bed. As she reached down to pick it up her heart started to hammer. It was a book, covered in dark brown leather. With shaky fingers she flipped it open and began to read …

July 16, 1860

My darling Elizabeth, it is lonely here in London without you. I know you promised your mother that you would celebrate her birthday at Canterbury with her, but this house is hollow and empty without the sound of your voice …

Flipping a few more pages she read further …

July 27, 1860

Oh, sweet Elizabeth. My heart is so full with my love for you. When do you return to me? John has been trying his best to keep me amused but I do not think he understands the depth of my need for your presence. Just to have you in the same room quells my restless soul. Please hurry home to me …

Kelly almost squealed out loud. This was it! It just had to be it!

The sound of a car door slamming outside made her breath catch. She crept silently to the window and through a narrow gap in the curtains peered out. Her heart rate doubled when she saw Richard standing beyond the garage talking to a portly gentleman in a pale grey suit. Richard gesticulated angrily while the suited man seemed to be trying to placate him.

God! I need to get out of here! She had what she wanted so there was no need for her to stay and follow through on their bargain, the terms of which hadn’t even been decided upon. The men looked to be deep in conversation so she took the opportunity to steal out the back way. Easing the door shut as silently as she could, and with her heart hammering, she headed for a stand of oak trees that lined the back perimeter of the estate. Beyond it was a heavily wooded area where she knew she could slip away if she moved quickly and quietly.

Though the air was cold, sweat trickled down her spine. She didn’t dare look back as she made the short dash across the open garden. As she rounded the trees, a thick root caught her boot and sent her sprawling to her knees. Smothering the yelp that threatened to give her away, she breathed in deep shuddering breaths as the pain that arced up her already-bruised knees peaked and began to ebb. She wanted to whimper but wouldn’t let herself. Instead, she bit her bottom lip hard.

When she could finally breathe easily again, she chanced a look behind and caught a glimpse of the trunk of the car, still parked beyond the drive.

Good, whoever the other man is, he’s keeping Richard distracted.

She scrambled the last few yards until the trees completely obscured her from view.

Almost light-headed, she hid amongst the trees and studied the house for signs of movement, praying that he wouldn’t come looking for her yet.

Without conscious thought she started to circle towards Stanthorpe House, but after a few hundred yards it occurred to her that if she went back there Richard could find her straight away. It was imperative that she read the journal before he came to wrest it away, or worse, try to claim payment. Her hands, slippery with sweat, clutched the book to her chest. Inside the covers lay the answer to all her questions. Inside she would find a way to free the man she loved.

With that thought in mind she turned away from the house and started towards the main road under the cover of the trees. A small creek ran down this side of the estate and if she hiked along the edge, she could probably stay out of sight much of the way. She shook with every step knowing he could intercept her at any moment, but she pushed herself forward as fast as she could go.

A car door slammed and she ducked down; again her heart began to hammer. She crawled, crab-like across a short clearing, praying that Richard hadn’t yet discovered the journal was missing.

Glancing back as she descended into the small cutting formed by the creek, she saw that the car hadn’t yet moved and her heart finally began to slow knowing that she now had a little time. Perhaps she would walk into the village and find some cosy, but very public, spot to sit and read the journal. Even if he found her, he wouldn’t be able to make a scene in front of witnesses.

Taking her time, she picked over small thickets and crossed the tiny stream twice, drenching her shoes, until she was certain the coach house was completely obscured from view. Only then did she climb up the bank and head across the fields to the road. The two cows she passed didn’t seem the least perturbed by her presence.

When she reached Garford she found a small table in the dim interior of the pub where she felt relatively safe from probing eyes. Wishing she could take off her shoes, she dusted herself off, ordered a coffee and settled back to read. At first she thought to read the journal in its entirety, but after the first few pages she began flipping forward until around the time she knew John had been incarcerated. The early entries were more like love letters than a personal diary and it was only around the time of Elizabeth’s death that the tone changed …

October 15, 1861

Dearest one, this morning I received a disquieting missive from Plunkett. While I do not accept as true the inference he makes, I nonetheless prepare to join you at Stanthorpe. I shall depart on the morrow when my business here in Southampton is complete.

‘The ‘missive’ must be that note I gave to Barnsley,’ she mused aloud. She knew she should have rung him to learn his opinion of its authenticity but with all that’d been happening it had completely slipped her mind. She made a mental note to give him a call as soon as she returned to the house.

Her eyes rose from the journal in time to see the barmaid coming across the room with her coffee.

‘Would you be wantin’ any lunch? Cook goes off at three-thirty, so you’d need to order your food now if you’re hungry.’

Kelly shook her head. Her stomach was too knotted to eat. ‘I’m fine for the moment. Thanks.’

The girl nodded and wandered off, but Kelly didn’t notice, she had already turned the page.

October 16, 1861

My Elizabeth, my travel plans have been delayed but I expect to arrive at Stanthorpe within a day or two at most. It is unfortunate that I must to detour in London on my way north but I shall make all haste from there. With luck I shall dine with you tomorrow eve, my love.

The goods from the shipment were all that was promised and I have set aside some exquisite fabric that I had brought especially for you, my darling. The rich gold colour will make your eyes glow in radiance. And the jewels! They will adorn your neck and ears, the blue stones are magnificent and I shall have my jeweller set them as befits your elegance and beauty. This venture has proved extremely profitable and my man in India is under instruction to ready another shipment forthwith.

Soon I shall shower you with all the riches your beauty deserves, my love …

Sipping her coffee, Kelly pondered the man’s obsessive love for his wife. No one she knew would ever have bared his heart in such a way. His words were the stuff of poor poetry and medieval bards. Little wonder he’d gone mad when he learned that Elizabeth had died.

October 18, 1861

Oh, my heart, my love, my cherished one! It cannot be true. You cannot have left me! LORD! Say it is not true. Say Plunkett lies to me! I do not believe that my own cousin could let you die. Why did you not wait for me?

I am lost. My soul is lost.

Plunkett says he watched my cousin bury you several days ago beside the rose garden. In my rage it was all I could do not to recover you with my bare hands, but Plunkett forestalled me.

John is disappeared and I am bereft. Plunkett searches even now though he cannot fathom where my cousin has gone.

October 19, 1861

Oh my darling one, my anger burns my heart to cinders. Plunkett found my cousin, sotted with drink, hiding in the buttery. He will say nothing except that he loved you.

I must wait as he sleeps but I will learn the truth the moment he wakes, my love.

Frowning, Kelly flipped the page forward, then back. 20th October was missing. She studied the binding inside the book but could see no evidence that a page had been removed. ‘I wonder why he didn’t write an entry for that day?’ she said to herself. Still, at the moment she had no answer, so she read on …

October 21, 1861

Tonight it shall be done. At midnight. He thought he would escape justice. Murderer! Foul murderer! All these years. I trusted him. My friend. My cousin. How could he have done it? I looked up to him. I cannot fathom it. The miserable bastard.

My poor Elizabeth – he swore an oath to protect you, to keep you safe. I still cannot believe he could do such a thing as that. But the evidence – there is no other answer.

Forgive me not being here to stop him, my sweet Elizabeth, but I will have vengeance for you. I promise, my darling one. His hell will be endless and I swear he will beg for death before I am done with him.

October 22, 1861

It is done, my one and only love.

When I confronted him, he admitted it. Admitted it – the murderer! I have no words to explain the desolation his betrayal has caused me, my darling Elizabeth. Such bastardry cannot be believed. I begged him to tell me why but he refused to speak, he just kept saying that he loved you, too. How much? I asked. How much had he loved you, my Elizabeth? Had he loved you in other ways?– I demanded directly. But still he refused to speak. It is the only answer … he wronged me! Did he rape you, my poor Elizabeth? Because that is all it could have been – I know you would never have submitted to him, betrayed our love, our marriage. Oh, Elizabeth, why did you not fight him? When I told him that I planned to destroy him, he all but gave his blessing, the murderous fool. It was almost as if he wanted to die.

Little did he suspect my plan for retribution.

So, my darling Elizabeth, our vengeance has begun and his hell will indeed be without end.

The sorcerer is a most clever man. Plunkett brought him at the crone’s bidding and if I had not seen it I would not have believed it possible. After your murderer signed all the papers Plunkett prepared, the sorcerer made his spell and burned a foul-smelling posy of herbs and flowers that he had anointed with my blood and your murderer’s hair. Then with secret words from the lore of the druids, he slowly pushed John backwards into the mirror. In all honesty, your murderer did nothing to prevent it and showed no emotion once his fate had been sealed. Thus John is trapped and none but I can see him. How I shall enjoy taunting him!

When the sorcerer returns tomorrow I shall learn all the secrets of your murderer’s prison. I wish you were beside me my love. My heart pains me that you are not but I have begun your vengeance and I will not end it until your murderer is destroyed.

October 23, 1861

Oh my darling one, our vengeance is quite delicious! So befitting your murderer’s crimes! I shall make his torture slow and long.

The sorcerer has told me of his spell. The rules are thus, my love:

Your murderer’s existence will ever be in the mirrors of this house. He shall never sleep, nor will he age and he will never know pleasure.

As long as I live I shall see him, but no others will. His voice might be heard but it shall seem a mere shade and those who hear him will likely not comprehend his bleating words. Your murderer’s fate is thus sealed for all time.

The sorcerer cautioned that the secret lore demands that there must be a way to break the spell, a chance for redemption. While I argued against this course, the sorcerer bespoke the consequences of fate, so needs must that I acquiesce. We have therefore agreed that upon each twenty-year anniversary of the joining of Jupiter and Saturn, your murderer has but the span from his inheritance until the moment of his incarceration, some eighteen days, to seek his release from the one person who occupies the master bedroom. But in order to succeed he must find a child of my blood to break the mirror, for only the blood from my line can release him.

I inquired of your murderer’s fate should I, or one of my line, choose to release him. Alas, the sorcerer could not answer, as none he has so imprisoned has yet found freedom.

Thus, my dearest love, I am content in our bargain. The sorcerer requested little for his part, a small house in which to live out his days. I have deeded your dowry cottage at Canterbury to him – for this I beg your forgiveness but I shall not have need of it since I shall now own all of your murderer’s estates …

Deflated, Kelly lowered the journal and let out a long shuddering sigh. Richard. The answer was Richard. Weariness smothered her like a heavy shroud. While she now knew how to release John, she still had no idea if it would kill him – and if there was even a chance he’d die, she knew she could not bring herself to do it.

Burying her face in her hands the sense of utter futility threatened to overwhelm her. How could she possibly tell him? How would she be able to walk away in a few days’ time knowing she had abandoned him to such a heinous fate; to know he is there but no one can see him?

Oh, God.

Just the idea of telling him made her want to curl up and hide. She took a sip of her now cold coffee and checked the time on the clock above the bar: 5:12 pm.

She didn’t think she had the strength to face him yet. Nor Richard, who she felt certain would come looking for her sooner or later, after all, he must have discovered the journal had gone missing long ago and it wouldn’t take any great leap of imagination to realise she must have taken it. One thing she did know was that if she wasn’t at Stanthorpe, then for the moment she ought to be safe from him. Perhaps she could even attempt to return the journal to its hiding place on the off chance he hadn’t noticed it missing? While she knew that idea was a long shot, still, it could be worth a try.

As for John, there were no words she could say that would soften the blow of what she’d discovered. Part of her felt numb with the shock of knowing there was nothing at all she could do to save him. The other part, the part that had fallen so deeply in love with him, felt as if her heart had been broken into tiny shards and scattered so wide that she would never be able to recover them. That part felt an aching coldness that seemed to want to swallow her.

She needed time to gather her strength.

Grabbing her handbag, she extracted her mobile phone and composed a text message for Nancy: Having dinner in the village, home late - don’t wait up X.

A few short moments later she received the response that she didn’t really want: OK Call when ready Tom will come get you BTW Richard wants you to call him.

Damn.

Well, she reasoned, if she went home late she would at least be able to put him off until tomorrow. Kelly snagged the barmaid as she walked by and asked what time they served dinner.

‘Cook just arrived back and should start serving up at about half past five if you want to wait,’ the girl said.

‘Sounds great. I’ll have a glass of white wine to tide me over until then.’

‘Sure,’ she said, taking a notepad from the pocket of her apron, ‘which wine would you like. We have chardonnnay, riesling or chablis?’

Kelly didn’t care what she drank. She just wanted courage. ‘Chardonnay will be fine.’

The girl nodded and wandered off while Kelly took the opportunity to visit the bathroom. There were few people about. The luncheon crowd had long since gone and she suspected the bar wouldn’t begin to fill again until well after dinner, which meant she could likely sit in peace and read the rest of the journal undisturbed for an hour or two.

Exiting the bathroom, she was just about to head back to her table when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. She backed up a step and held her breath.

Richard stood on the other side of the bar, speaking urgently to the barmaid. Perhaps Nancy had told him where she was? She almost kicked herself for not warning her.

Kelly listened intently. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she suspected he might well be asking after her. Creeping backward, she retraced her steps but instead of going to the bathroom, she made her way out the nearby back door.

The late afternoon sun still shone brightly, bouncing stark beams of light off the chrome and glass of the parked cars. Glancing back down the short hall, she saw no sign of movement. Yet. But she wouldn’t feel safe until she knew Richard was long gone.

Taking a punt, she dashed around the side of the pub and up the short lane. Richard’s four-wheeled drive sat parked across the street. Sliding her hand over her carry-all to assure herself that the book was still there, she slipped behind the hedge that bordered the cottage next door, found a tiny gap that gave her a view of Richard’s car, and waited.

Richard didn’t disappoint her – a few minutes later he emerged from the pub scanning the street, both left and right, before climbing back into the car and peeling off the kerb with a screech of wheels. Only when she was certain he was out of sight did she stand upright and stretch her aching legs.

Logic told her that he’d be unlikely to return, so she went back inside to have that dinner she’d ordered.

‘Oh there ye are! The viscount was just in ’ere a’looking for ye,’ the barmaid said. ‘Would ye be wantin’ me to give him a call?’

‘No, thanks,’ Kelly answered quickly then brandished her mobile phone. ‘I’ll call him myself.’

The girl nodded with a knowing smile. ‘I’ll just go back and tell cook not to toss out yer dinner.’

‘Great. Thanks.’

For good measure, Kelly thought it prudent to sit at the back, near her escape route and opposite the window that gave her a view of the street – just to be certain.

The dinner came and went untouched as she reread the journal – she hadn’t been hungry, she’d simply needed an excuse to sit there taking up space while she read.

By nine she could barely force herself to read on and finish it. With each successive entry, Edward Ditchley became more and more depraved in his actions. The brutality and sexual violence made Kelly sick to her stomach. The things he did to poor Anne! To say nothing of the mental abuse John’s mother must have suffered. He also raped or beat his servants mercilessly. The delight he seemed to derive from their pain was chilling, and time and again Kelly had to stop reading as the bile rose up her throat.

Unlike a novel, this was more real, and far more devastating because it was a diary – in effect, the true account of the man’s descent into madness. She didn’t know how John could have witnessed such depravity, withstood that kind of mental anguish and remained sane.

The last few entries in the journal became disjointed babblings that she could barely make sense of. One thing was certain though, his treatment of Anne became progressively worse and Kelly almost hoped that Anne had killed him, that she had finally taken matters into her own hands.

A noise over by the bar caught Kelly’s attention and as she looked around the cosy pub, she was surprised to find all the tables were now full and a large contingent in rugby jerseys stood by the bar laughing and toasting each other. Obviously they had won their game. She’d been so engrossed in the journal she’d barely noticed anything or anyone around her. Richard could have come along and she wouldn’t have realised until too late. But then again, it didn’t matter now. She had read it. She had her answers. Richard couldn’t really do anything to her now.

One of the locals caught her eye and offered her a beer. She shook her head, unable to force herself to even return his friendly smile.

Time to go home and face John.

After calling Tom she went outside to the street to wait. Stanthorpe House stood only a few minutes away and it wouldn’t take him long to reach her. As she glanced about the small village of Garford she pondered what it would be like to stay and live amongst these friendly people. It was a thought she’d barely wanted to acknowledge, but now she knew that she couldn’t help John escape his prison … she had begun to doubt that she would be able to bring herself to leave him even if it meant not seeing his face for another twenty years. She knew it was selfish and unfair. She knew that it would only cause them both pain. And yet …

‘Hey!’

She turned to see Tom staring at her quizzically from the driver’s side of the hotel’s Landrover. ‘You want a lift or not?’

‘Sorry,’ she said as she rushed around to the passenger side of the vehicle. ‘I was miles away.’

‘I could tell. C’mon, seat belt on,’ he ordered with a wink as he peeled away from the hedged roadside.

‘Thanks for this,’ she said as they turned into the estate. ‘I could have walked – it’s a really balmy night.’

‘Perhaps, but Nance would have killed me if you fell down a rabbit hole in the dark.’

Kelly gave a wry laugh. ‘My name’s not Alice.’

‘Good thing too.’

‘Actually – I wish it was … then I might be able to step into the looking glass and …’ Her voice trailed off. It was impossible and she knew it. ‘I don’t suppose you know the local sorcerer do you? A druid perhaps?’

Tom’s eyes widened. ‘You’re joking, I hope. Those crackpots disappeared centuries ago. Nonsense if you ask me.’

‘This from a man who wanted me to prove the existence of a ghost?’ she scoffed.

‘That’s different and you know it.’

‘Why?’ She pulled out the journal and waved it before him as he parked the car and turned off the engine. ‘I’ve got the journal. Richard had it at his place. It says that Edward Ditchley used a sorcerer to put John in the mirror.’

Switching out the headlights, he swivelled in his seat to turn toward her, ‘I hate to say it, Kel, but if you’re thinking a sorcerer will get him out, you’re likely to be out of luck. They just don’t exist anymore. If they ever did.’

Shaking her head, she sighed. ‘No, I know that. Besides, I can’t take the chance of killing John … and if I try to get him out, that’s what will probably happen.’

‘What are you going to do?’

She shook her head more slowly this time. ‘Honestly? … I don’t know.’

One slow step at a time she climbed the servants’ staircase to the second floor. The closer she got to her room, the tighter her heart seemed to squeeze. She just prayed Richard hadn’t decided to come to wait for her.

As the door creaked she closed her eyes, wincing, not at the sound but with the terrible fear that she was about to irrevocably break John’s heart. To know there was no hope was far worse than the faint glimmer he must have harboured all these years when he didn’t know the truth about his fate.

Pushing the door closed she glanced up and tried to smile although her stomach was in such tight knots she found it hard to breathe.

‘Are you hurt? What did he do to you?’

For a minute Kelly didn’t understand. She’d forgotten that when she left this afternoon, John assumed that despite his vehement protests, she was on her way to a rendezvous with Richard that would likely result in her having to prostitute herself in payment for the journal.

‘Nothing,’ she reassured as she approached the mirror. ‘I haven’t even seen him.’

The look of relief in his eyes almost made her want to cry.

‘Then where have you been? I have been living in terror that you might be raped or worse!’

‘No – nothing like that.’

Turning away, she tossed her handbag onto the bed and thrust her hands through her hair. She wanted to stall, but she knew there was no way she could put off the inevitable so she reached into her bag and retrieved the journal.

‘I’ve been at the pub in the village. Reading.’ She held the journal aloft.

For a long minute John studied it, apparently without comprehension, then suddenly his eyes widened and the colour drained from his face. ‘Edward’s journal?’

Gulping a large breath, she nodded. ‘Richard had it hidden at the coach house. He wasn’t there when I arrived, although the front door was ajar. I thought he must have been playing some kind of game with me … but the place was empty. I took a look around while I awaited his return. I found the journal under the bed.’

‘I can see from your face the news is not pleasant.’

It was time. With a sad smile she stepped closer and hugged the journal to her chest as if it could somehow shield her heart from the truth. ‘I’m afraid not. I’ve read the thing from cover to cover – and you’re right, your cousin was quite insane in the end.’ She opened the book to October 23. ‘It says here that the sorcerer who put you there didn’t know whether or not you would survive if you were released.’

‘Whether I survive is not the dilemma, Kelly. I am so weary I think I would trade anything for one minute of complete peace. Is release possible? Does Edward say how I can finally end this hell?’

Unbidden tears began to prick at the back of her eyelids and she had to fight to keep them at bay. ‘Is it still hell … truly?’ she asked, her moisture-filled eyes silently begging him to endure – if not for his own sake, then for hers.

The look he gave her, a combination of desire and passion mixed with anguish and resignation, made her breath catch in her throat. She was torturing him as surely as Edward had.

One of the tears she had been valiantly trying to hold at bay trickled slowly down her cheek. Spinning about she gulped in some air and whispered, ‘No – don’t answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘Oh, Kelly, I wish so very much that I could hold you in my arms, just once. To know the feel of your skin, to touch my lips to yours. To bury my face in those magnificent dark curls would make waiting a thousand more years in this prison worthwhile. You have become my heart.’

Turning back, the emotion she saw in his gaze consumed her and she rushed forward to press her entire body against the mirror as if she were flying into his arms. ‘You have stolen mine,’ she whimpered, her hot breath misting the glass. ‘If I could find a sorcerer I would have him put me in there alongside you.’

‘The man who imprisoned me is long since dead, my love. As I should be.’ His voice dropped to a mere whisper. ‘While I love you, it is a love that cannot be. So if the journal has the key to my release, even if it means my death, it must be done.’

Choking down her emotions she shook her head slowly then tossed the journal back on the bed.

‘It is the only answer.’ His voice held a calmness that belied the look upon his face. His strong jaw seemed to be clenched so tight his teeth might crack.

Falling to her knees, she hugged herself as she tried not to fall apart. ‘I can’t!’ The ache that rose in her chest earlier returned worse than before. It felt as if a lump of cold black stone had settled where her heart should reside. She shivered from the chill of it – knowing she would have to live with it forever if she helped him to die. ‘Forgive me for being a coward but I just can’t do it.’

John dropped to his knees as she had done and smiled a smile that spoke of both sadness and compassion.

‘We have some days left. Eight, if my reckoning is correct. If I may spend that time with you, then I shall be content as any man who must face his end. Do not be sad for me. If my Maker allows that I become the ghost all have supposed these past one hundred and forty years,’ his lips lifted in a glowing grin, ‘I vow to haunt you until the day you can join me in the hereafter, no matter where you go.’

Despite the heaviness in her chest, she couldn’t help but laugh. ‘A genuine haunting this time?’

Tilting his head to the side, his grin widened and he flourished a hand before her. ‘The dreaded Ghost of Stanthorpe House, at your service, Madam.’

Even so, she knew she couldn’t do it. Even if he could become a ghost in the true sense, it would change little and regardless of his assurances she could not chance the possibility that he would cease to exist.

‘But what if you could stay alive?’ Her mind lit on the idea. ‘… I could live here. I could be here for you, with you, until we can find another way out.’ She stood, splaying a shaky hand on the glass. ‘Maybe, with research, I could find someone with the knowledge of magic who could send me into the mirror if we cannot get you out? Or maybe we could find some kind of technology that would release you unharmed? We can’t just give up!’

‘I do not understand this “technology” of which you speak so I cannot say if it might be possible. Your world is very different from mine. As to magic – it is something I have never trusted.’ His eyes closed momentarily as if he was struggling against the hope she offered. ‘Should we not just enjoy the time that remains to us? ’

A defeated sigh shuddered from her. ‘We don’t have to decide anything now. Let’s just take things a day at a time. I—’

The bedroom door squeaked open and Kelly jumped back when she saw Richard standing there.

The intense smile he wore presaged danger.

‘May I come in?’ he said then walked into the room without waiting for her answer. ‘I do apologise for not being home for our rendezvous. Inspector Mathieson wished an interview and it ran over time.’ Again the nasty smile. His eyes narrowed as they came upon the journal where it rested on her bed. ‘Ah. I see you have found a little bedtime reading.’

‘The door stood open when I got to the coach house so I went in looking for you and found it. I didn’t think you would mind since it was why I agreed to meet you.’

Richard’s gaze went to the mirror, then back to her face. ‘It is interesting reading, isn’t it? I took a closer look last night. Though I am yet to read it all, I’m sure you’ll agree the beginning was quite tedious … all that soppy love talk. I skipped much of that part. It only got exciting when the woman died and my predecessor found a way to imprison her killer.

‘I particularly liked the part that says the ghost cannot ever reach beyond the mirror.’ He stepped closer and Kelly could see that the knowledge of John’s true situation had allowed Richard to feel a measure of bravado.

‘So – is he there now?’ He studied the glass as if he hoped to catch some kind of glimpse. ‘Are you there? John, isn’t it?’

For long seconds Kelly had to suppress the urge to laugh at him. Richard was looking at the wrong side of the mirror as if trying to peer through a window.

John glared at Richard. He looked so regal and magnificent she wished Richard could see him too. Perhaps then he wouldn’t be quite so cocky.

‘I am here, Ditchley.’

Despite the confident display, Kelly saw Richard flinch slightly when John spoke. Backing up, Richard went to retrieve the journal from the bed, flipping the pages nonchalantly. ‘It seems you have no power, Ghost.’ Richard stated with obvious delight.

‘Perhaps not in your world, Ditchley, but the same is true for you in mine.’

‘Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I have plenty of power.’ He faced Kelly and raised both brows in question, ‘Didn’t you tell him?’

‘No – not yet,’ she answered, dreading what Richard was about to reveal.

Richard’s face shone as he turned toward the mirror. ‘How wonderful! I even get the privilege of informing him. How absolutely delightful. After all these years, after all the times you frightened me as a child, I have your fate in my hands and you are completely powerless!’

Moving close to Kelly he ran a finger down her cheek in a mock caress. ‘Shall I tell him or would you like the honours, m’dear?’

Pulling away she shook her head; she didn’t want to anger him in any way. Perhaps, after he’d had his fun telling John the secret, he might leave them both in peace. God, she hoped so!

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, again trailing a finger down her cheek.

She bit her inner lip as his finger moved slowly downward over her neck. Her skin crawled over her back but she refused to let him make her cower. When his hand came to a halt at the closed button of her blouse, she lifted one of hers, gripped his wrist and casually pushed it away.

The edges of Richard’s lips quirked as John’s low growl echoed through the room. ‘Déjá vu, Ghost? Poor Anne, she had no idea, did she?’ Striding to the mirror he tilted his head. ‘Well, never mind, Kelly is not so innocent.’

‘Do not dare,’ John commanded, his tone deadly.

‘Ah, but what can you do? You have no way to prevent me. Besides, I haven’t yet told you about my secret, have I? I really should do that … it is so cruel to keep you dangling.’ He glanced back to Kelly, ‘I think, however, I should demand some kind of payment first … good will and all that.’ He beckoned her with an outstretched hand. ‘Come, I think I can claim a kiss, at the very least.’

From the predatory look in his eyes, she knew he would take it from her if she failed to go to him.

As she slowly moved forward, her gaze lifted to John’s face. She mouthed the words, ‘I’m sorry,’ and then shut her eyes tight as Richard pulled her hard against him. His arms surrounded her like a vice, his harsh fingers bruising the back of her neck where he held her. She let herself go limp, unwilling to fight him.

Forcing her back against the bedpost, he drove his tongue straight into her unresponsive mouth. His lips tasted of stale scotch; she wanted to gag but couldn’t allow herself to do anything that would incense him further. She suddenly realised that John’s warning about Richard’s tainted blood was not just superstition.

Richard ground his hips into hers, his erection, pressing hard against her belly, left no doubt what he really wanted in payment.

In the back of her mind she could hear John’s angry cries but she tried to shut them out; hearing his anguish only hurt her more.

Dragging her mouth away, she begged in a whisper, ‘Please, Richard, let’s go somewhere private. To the coach house … then we can do whatever you like.’ She didn’t want to torture John further by letting Richard rape her here, in front of him.

Richard couldn’t possibly know that she and John had fallen in love. Likely he just assumed it was John’s sense of honour that made him protest. But if they stayed here long enough, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide her feelings. If that happened she was certain that Richard would relish the idea of having sex with her right under John’s nose, just as his sick predecessor had all those years ago. ‘I’ve never done it … in front of an audience. Please.’

Wagging a finger at her, he shook his head and then surprised her by letting her go. ‘Hmm, not yet.

‘Are you still there, Ghost?’

‘I am here.’ John’s reply was devoid of emotion, although Kelly could see the pain in his expression. She wanted to reach out to him, reassure him. But there was nothing she could do. Yet.

‘I wish to explain something,’ Richard stated. ‘My ancestor’s journal revealed some quite interesting facts. It seems the only way to release you from the mirror is with my blood.’ Reaching into his pocket he withdrew a small Swiss Army knife. Slowly and deliberately he drew out the blade and brandished it before the mirror. Then, with a theatrical flourish he slid the sharp edge against his palm. ‘Now it doesn’t say that breaking the spell will kill you, but I am willing to bet that is the case.’ His gaze captured Kelly’s. ‘Are you willing to take the chance?’

‘No!’ Kelly pleaded, her heart pounding in her breast. ‘Please don’t do it!’ She lunged for the knife but Richard held it aloft so she couldn’t reach it.

‘Kelly!’ John bellowed in fear. ‘Do not. He will harm you!’

Backing away, her hands fisted impotently by her sides, the blood seemed to scream through her veins. She wasn’t sure exactly how it worked, but she could not afford to let him draw blood. She knew she had to stop him, by whatever means she had even if that meant agreeing to seduction.

She looked to the door. Why hadn’t Tom heard the noise and come to investigate?

‘Kelly is innocent in this,’ John stated. ‘Let her go and then do whatever you will to me.’

Richard turned towards John voice and his face took on a sickly smile.

‘Now, now. Let’s all talk about this calmly,’ his voice sounded reasonable, almost generous. ‘There is a solution that might just suit everyone.’

Struggling to control her panic, Kelly breathed deeply and watched as Richard pocketed the knife. Relief swept through her. While the threat was still very real, the immediate danger had at least passed.

‘I’ve struck a little problem,’ Richard announced almost conversationally. ‘It seems I owe a large sum of money to a man of dubious reputation—’

‘I have no riches that I can bestow upon you, Ditchley,’ John interrupted coldly.

‘—and I find I am in need of a wife of means,’ Richard continued as if John hadn’t said a word. Raking Kelly from head to foot, his expression took on one of triumph. ‘I have been doing a little research of my own and it seems our Ms Reid has a sizable trust fund. Is that not true, Kelly?’

‘My trust fund? You’re after my trust fund?’ Flabbergasted, she turned away. That money was something she never bothered thinking about. Her father administered it on her behalf, and since she earned a good living on her own she’d never had need to touch it. Frank had sued for a portion, but her father kept him tied up in court over it and as things currently stood, it could take Frank years before he could get his hands on any of it, if ever.

‘Not just the trust fund, I have decided I’d like to marry and perhaps relocate to the United States. So this is what I propose – you’ll forgive me if I don’t go down on bended knee,’ he smirked at her as if he’d made a hilarious joke. ‘We shall be married at Gretna Green tomorrow at 3 pm. I took the liberty of booking the service. I have a friend at the office there who has expedited the paperwork on our behalf. After the wedding we will honeymoon in New York. As a good-will gesture, you will transfer eighty thousand pounds into my bank account so I can remove the small debt I owe.’

Stunned to silence, Kelly could only stare, wide-eyed, as he paced the room like a chairman of the board, issuing orders to his staff. He’d obviously had this planned for some time.

‘In return, I promise not to send your ghost to his death. Is that not an amicable agreement?’

‘Kelly,’ John’s voice flowed over her like a warm cocoon of love. ‘Do not do this. He will only hurt you and it will be for naught.’

Burying her face in her hands she tried to think of some way she could give him what he wanted without her having to marry him. When she glanced up both men were watching her intently.

‘I can give you the money – however much you need. But we don’t need to get married.’

Richard moved closer and gave her a condescending smile. ‘Yes, we do. Let’s just say it would be prudent for me to get out of England for a while.’

Kelly began to shake as the blood in her veins turned to ice. Richard’s eyes pinned hers, daring her to deny him and in them she saw a violent anger, greed and a steely resolve that made her heart shudder. He again reached into his pocket. She could see him fingering the knife in warning. And not for the first time did she wonder if perhaps he had killed Deanna. While he scoffed at any mention of involvement with the girl, her vehemence that day at the bakery, and again that night in her room, had set Kelly to thinking. Why would he want to relocate if not to escape the police?

But to marry him?

Of course, she would have to do it if it meant saving John but once Richard had all he wanted, would he kill her too? Her whole body began to turn numb with fear. She looked into John’s face desperately wishing for another answer.

‘Run, my love,’ John whispered.

Richard’s head spun towards the mirror. ‘What’s this?’

Kelly cringed as the she saw understanding dawn on Richard’s face.

‘My love, is it?’ He began to laugh, a maddening sound that only increased her fear. ‘Oh that is so delicious! The ghost is in love with Kelly. How poignant … how truly romantic! The stuff of Hollywood. Perhaps,’ he reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, ‘I shall write a novel about it. I’ve always fancied myself an author, you know. I can just see it … a contemporary version of The Ghost and Mrs Muir.’

His arm tightened until the pain forced her to cease trying to squirm from his grasp.

‘Look, I’ll give you whatever you want – if you let me get my attaché case I can write you a cheque right now. However much you want. Just name it. But then, please, just leave us alone …’ her voice trailed away. One look at his eager expression told her that even if she gave him every cent she owned, it would not be enough.

‘Ah, but we haven’t finished yet, Kelly. While I will let you write that cheque, it will be after we seal the deal.’

His other arm came around her and he crushed her into his arms. ‘Let us show your would-be lover what he will miss while he stands there and waits another twenty years, shall we? After all, if he is to have any hope of redemption, he must have someone of my blood to do it.’ He gazed into her eyes as if he was in love with her. ‘We might as well start on the begetting of progeny … it would be cruel to leave the man with no hope at all, wouldn’t it, my sweet?’

Before she could begin to protest he manoeuvered both her arms behind her back until he held her wrists painfully with one of his large hands. She knew to struggle would be useless, he stood head and shoulders above her and all his equestrian skills made him very strong. Instead she stood rigid in his grip while he began to nuzzle her neck. She desperately wished she could shield John from what was surely about to happen, but there was no way she could fight Richard and win. With her wrists held tightly she couldn’t even attempt to wrest the knife from him.

She shook her head vehemently as John began to bellow in anger. ‘It’s okay,’ she murmured. ‘It will only make it worse.’

‘Please, Kelly … I am happy to die if it will save you!’

Richard lifted his head and barked a mock laugh in John’s direction. ‘Whether you live or die is of no consequence to me, Ghost. I will still have her, regardless. So just sit back and enjoy the show, you might learn something.’ His face contorted, and where Kelly had once thought Richard pretty, she now saw only ugliness.

Numb, Kelly allowed her mind to step back, to almost leave her body as Richard began unbuttoning her blouse. She heard an agonised wail and only distantly realised the sound came from her own throat.

John stood like a statue before her, his eyes fixed solely on hers as if he could shut out the rest. His love flooded over her. She felt the tangible warmth of his comfort, and so long as their eyes remained locked, she thought she could withstand anything.

Richard thrust his groin against her, making her look down. She hadn’t seen him unzip his fly. His penis, red and swollen, ground into her belly and though she tried to remain dispassionate, a slow heat began rising up her spine. It wasn’t desire; there was nothing about this man that evoked the slightest feeling of lust. The sight of his penis against her now bared stomach made her feel nothing but disgust. No, the heat was rage. An internal rage. The same internal rage she had known when Frank had forced himself on her the night she threw him out of the apartment. Then, as now, her size and gender had been her downfall. That night she had vowed to herself that no man would ever put her in that position again.

When Richard pushed his hand inside her pants and groped her like an animal, it reminded her so much of Frank that something in her snapped. Crying out at the injustice, she jerked her head up hard against Richard’s chin and felt a surge of triumph at the sickening snap of his teeth. While she didn’t think she had really hurt him, it was enough to make him loosen his grip on her hands. She didn’t wait for him to regain any control. The fire of anger surged through her and she drew back an arm, shoving her fist in his face so hard that she sent him reeling.

It was almost as if it happened in slow motion … As Richard flung an arm out to brace himself for the fall she saw John’s arm emerge from the mirror. Hope surged through her chest! John was breaking the spell! But just as he began to step out, Richard’s elbow swung back and smashed into the mirror.

A slow tinkle became an avalanche that stopped Kelly’s heart.

John vanished.

‘OH GOD NO!’ she screamed as the mirror disintegrated before her eyes, thousands of shards of glass showering over Richard as he fell to the floor.

Richard screamed too. His arm, covered in cuts, bled profusely. ‘Help me!’ he yelled at her, but she ignored him completely.

All the breath left her lungs and a high-pitched wailing began inside her head.

NOOOO!

Her mind sobbed as she crumpled before the empty frame.

Tentatively she touched the plywood as if feeling for him. ‘John? Are you still there? … JOHN!’

Tom burst into the room and took in the scene in the blink of an eye. He rushed to her, and as soon as he realised she was basically unharmed, he bent to aid Richard.

Kelly scrambled upright and pushed past them both, nearly knocking Nancy over as she raced for the main stairs. When she reached the mirror she called his name over and over again.

‘Please, John. Please be there … answer me! … JOHN!’

But the glass remained empty.

In her desperation she thought maybe he’d sought refuge in one of the other mirrors. Running from room to room she madly pleaded in front of each of them, begging him to show himself.

By the time she reached the library she knew in her heart that he was gone. The instant she acknowledged it her stomach clenched painfully and her heart seemed to stall. Heaving great gulps of air, her legs folded under her. She fell to the carpet and began to sob. She didn’t even notice when Tom arrived several minutes later to wrap a blanket around her and help her to her feet.

‘Shhhh,’ he whispered as he rocked her gently in his arms. He wiped the hair from her face and laid her on the settee. ‘If he can be found, we’ll find him, Kel,’ he reassured.

Looking up into his kind face she shook her head sadly as a long sigh shuddered through her. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks though she didn’t notice them. ‘He’s gone … Oh, Tom … I killed him! … It’s all my fault and now he’s gone!’

Nancy rushed into the room and threw her arms around her. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she began, but she knew words were inadequate.

‘Ambulance is on its way,’ she said to Tom. ‘Richard’s out cold – I’ve got Martin watching him until they arrive. I called the police, too. From the looks of things,’ she nodded at Kelly’s state of undress, ‘they might need to ask a few questions.’

The sound of sirens prevented further conversation. Tom went to let the paramedics in as Nancy held Kelly’s shivering form.

‘Kel, can you tell me what happened up there?’

Swallowing, Kelly’s eyes darted up to the mirror, hoping beyond hope that she was wrong and John’s face would appear. For long seconds she held her breath but … nothing.

Kelly shook her head and quivered as a chill crawled slowly down her spine. ‘I killed him,’ she murmured, ‘I pushed Richard into the mirror … I killed him.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Nancy replied. ‘Richard will be fine – just a few cuts—’

‘Not Richard! John.’ Her gaze rose inch by inch till it met Nancy’s. ‘I killed him.’

‘Oh, love,’ Nancy breathed and drew Kelly close. ‘It’ll be okay. I promise.’

Detective Inspector Mathieson entered the small salon and raised both of his caterpillar brows at the sight of Kelly asleep on the settee. While she remained a suspect in the Montgomery murder, any further ‘disturbances’ were immediately brought to his attention. After the first wave of police investigations, one of the constables gave him a call and alerted him to what had been happening.

Nancy glanced up and shooed him out the door, joining him in the hallway a moment later.

‘I finally got her to sleep,’ she told him with a warning glare.

‘It’s all right, Mrs Wentworth. The constables have given me their preliminary report. The rest can wait until morning.’

‘Then why did you come at all?’

He started in the direction of the front door. ‘I wanted to check things out for myself. I’ll come back tomorrow morning some time. Can you please ask Ms Reid to stay put until I can speak with her?’

‘Surely you realise she didn’t hurt Deanna, Inspector. And though she wouldn’t say so, I think Richard might have been trying to force himself on her.’

One of the inspector’s thick black brows lifted. ‘What makes you say that?’

She shrugged and looked over at the closed salon door. ‘Just a feeling.’

Mathieson nodded. ‘I’ll look into it.’

One of the constables appeared and whispered into the inspector’s ear. ‘Did Mr Ditchley go to the hospital?’ he asked the younger man.

‘About an hour ago. The paramedics took him off in the ambulance. He had several deep cuts on his hand and arm.’

With another nod he returned his attention to Nancy.

‘We’re just about finished here, Mrs Wentworth. I’ll leave a man on site overnight.’ Checking his watch, he smiled slightly. ‘What remains of the night, at least.’

Nancy saw him out then went back to the salon to make sure Kelly still slept. The paramedics had given her something to calm her down and make her sleep, and though she appeared very pale and the yellowed bruising on her forehead was stark against the blue pillow, she seemed to have relaxed.

Settling into the big armchair opposite, Nancy took up the journal and began to read.