Murder Most Fair by Anna Lee Huber

Author:Anna Lee Huber [Huber, Anna Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2021-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

The following day dawned to bright blue skies dotted with downy clouds, but blustery winds—a typical late-autumn morning amid the Dales. Having been confined to the Pierce-Arrow and the house much of the day before, I was eager to stretch my legs, and set off for a ramble shortly after midday with Sidney and Tim, while Tabitha scampered along after us. We returned mud splattered and windblown, but in happy spirits, only to be met in the yard by Freddy.

“Have any of you seen Fräulein Bauer?”

“No,” I replied. “Is Tante Ilse looking for her?”

The furrow in his brow deepened. “Apparently, she’s been asking for the girl for three hours, but no one can find her.”

My gaze met Sidney’s as a vague stirring of alarm began inside me. “Maybe she took a bicycle to run an errand in the village,” I suggested.

Freddy shook his head. “We checked. All the bicycles are accounted for.”

Tim stared in puzzlement at his feet, but he didn’t offer any other suggestions.

“Well, she must be somewhere.” I turned to survey the courtyard, trying not to allow my fears to race ahead. But she was a German in the depths of Yorkshire, one who barely spoke English, and I had witnessed the antagonism directed at her. “Let me speak with Tante Ilse. Perhaps she’s merely forgotten where she’s gone.”

I set off across the courtyard with a brisk stride, uncertain which outcome I hoped for. I didn’t want to be confronted with more evidence that Tante Ilse’s memory was not what it had once been, but I also wished for Bauer to be safe. I dashed up the stairs in my split skirt and half boots, only to be met by Matilda exiting my bedchamber.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, her posture too furtive for her presence there to be innocent.

She straightened in affront, as if she were the one who had been wronged. “I saw Bauer sneakin’ out of your room this morn. She seemed nervous, so I went in to see what trouble she was up to.”

“She’s been helping to care for and press my clothes,” I retorted. “Not that that’s any of your concern.”

“Yes, well, she was doing nowt with your clothes. Rather, she was leavin’ a letter.”

This surprised me, and Matilda could tell, for her beady black eyes glinted with satisfaction.

“I thowt it was for Mr. Kent, so I took it. Planned to give it to Mrs. Townsend.”

“You thought it was?” I pressed, knowing full well that Matilda would have had no compunctions about opening it and reading it.

She scowled. “It was written in gibberish.”

Which I took to mean German.

“But what with her havin’ gone missing now, I thowt it might be best to return it. In case it explains that she’s run off or summat like that.”

“Where is it?” I snapped, struggling to restrain my temper. She nodded toward the door to my bedchamber. “On your pillow.”

I charged past her and across the room to where a crisp, white piece of paper lay on my pillow.

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