Pendragon by Catherine Coulter

Author:Catherine Coulter [Coulter, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical Romance
ISBN: 9780515132250
Google: 2RE3CdDV83wC
Amazon: 1597378399
Barnesnoble: 1597378399
Goodreads: 342241
Publisher: Jove
Published: 2001-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 18

WAS NEARLY midnight when the housekeeper led Thomas and Meggie into a newly aired bedchamber at Squire Billings's house at the head of Morgan Cove, just south of St. Agnes Head, a fine property some three miles distant from The Hangman's Noose.Once the housekeeper had left them, Thomas said, "Go to bed, Meggie. Squire Billings and I must speak about this further."

She nodded, saying not a word. She'd not said a word, but she'd hurt and cried deep inside and let the shock burrow deeper than the tears, and now she was exhausted. Within five minutes she was stretched out on her back beneath a marvelous goose-down comforter.

Thomas came into the bedchamber to see that she was all right before going back down to Squire Billings's library. He held the candle high and looked down at his wife. She was already asleep, her hair spread out about her head on the pristine white pillowcase. She looked so very young, untouched, but that wasn't true. And now she was no longer innocent—she'd seen a woman hanging by the neck.

He didn't like this at all. He turned on his heel and went back downstairs.

Meggie awoke the next morning, still alone. No sign of Thomas. She wondered if he'd even come to bed at all. Then she remembered what had happened.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think about Marie Leach. She looked about the bedchamber and didn't like it. It was dark, the furnishings heavy, Spanish in flavor, she believed, having visited a Senor Alvarez in his home in London during her Season the past spring.

She looked toward the windows, not seeing the heavy draperies, but rather Marie Leach, and she was dead and it was perfectly horrible.

Thomas knocked lightly then quietly opened the door to see his wife sitting on the side of the bed, her face in her hands, sobbing, great ugly sobs that seemed to bow her utterly.

He strode to the bed, picked her up, and carried her to the large winged chair beside the fireplace. He sat down and settled her on his lap. He held her for a very long time.

She felt in those moments that she was once again with the man she'd enjoyed so very much before they'd married, the man who'd never hesitated to comfort her, to laugh with her, to simply appreciate what and who she was.

"Thank you," she said, and straightened up. She was knuckling her eyes with her fists, and it made him smile.

"You're welcome. It's morning. A maid is waiting in the hall to assist you. We will spend the day here. This business with Bernard and his wife, it's a mystery and Mr. Billings hasn't a notion where to begin."

"And you do?"

"Yes. I wish to speak at great length with Bernard. I will ask the local physician to look at Mrs. Leach."

"But why? Didn't she die by strangulation?"

"Perhaps not."

"I will speak to the stable lad."

A thorny problem, Thomas thought, and cleared his throat. He said, "That won't be possible.

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