A Collector of Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page A

she
intended. She took a deep breath and mentally altered her tone. “I saw someone.
They turned down the gaslight.”
                “It feels very stuffy in here, Caroline. Open the window.
I can barely breathe,” said Mrs Oakengate. “I’m afraid I may be coming down
with something. My head feels all stuffy.”
                Blake looked around the room. “There’s no door in this
room.”
                “No, the only entrance is through mine.”
                He went to the window and checked it. “This is locked
from the inside.”
                “What about under the bed?” said Caroline, lifting one of
the blankets. There was nothing there except Mrs Oakengate’s suitcases, and
whilst they were bulky, none were big enough to hold a fully-grown adult.
                “No one passed me in the hallway,” said Blake, “so they
wouldn’t have got out that way. Who, or what exactly did you see?”
                “I saw … I saw the gaslight grow dim. A little while
later I felt the presence of a shadow in the room. But they had a torch. I
think. And then…” She hesitated. The next part was going to be more difficult
to explain. “I saw Lady Cassandra standing over me.”
                Blake burst out laughing. “Lady Cassandra.”
                “Well it looked like her. She said there was danger.”
                “Really,” said Mrs Oakengate. Caroline did not like the
glance her employer exchanged with Blake. “Caroline I am so disappointed in
you.”
                “So am I,” said Blake, grinning. “I thought you were
above such wild imaginings.”
                Caroline folded her arms. “Well, thank you for coming to
my rescue, Mr Laurenson. Perhaps Mrs Oakengate and I should get some sleep
now.”
                It was only when Caroline got into her bed, having
settled Mrs Oakengate down again, that she began to wonder how Blake Laurenson
had reached her door so quickly.

 
    Chapter Four

 
 
    Caroline sat alone in the
breakfast room, having had a bad night’s sleep, despite her drowsiness. She
felt how she sometimes felt if she had taken a sleeping pill but had failed to
properly sleep off its effects. All the other guests, including Mrs Oakengate,
had slept in, and for that she was grateful. She needed time alone to think
about what happened the night before. Not generally given to wild imaginings,
as Blake had said, she was slowly able to convince herself it was all a dream.
Clearly Lady Cassandra was a strong presence in the house, but only in an
abstract way. She existed as an entity only because the guests had heard so
much about her. Caroline reasoned that she too had heard so much about Lady
Cassandra that she must have had the abbey’s previous owner on her mind when
she dozed off to sleep.
                “Boo,” said a voice softly from the door.
                “I heard your footsteps, Mr Laurenson.”
                “And you knew they were mine?” He walked into the room,
reminding Caroline of a sleek racehorse, with his long, lean legs, and helped
himself to some food off the side table.
                “Of course I didn’t know they were yours. I assumed it
was one of the servants.”
                “Not Lady Cassandra’s.”
                “No. That, I’m sure, was just a nightmare. I’m sorry to
have disturbed you. If indeed I did.”
                To Caroline’s consternation, instead of taking one of the
seats opposite, he came and sat down right next to her. “Now what can you mean
by that, Caroline?”
                “Only that you got there very quickly.”
                “You think perhaps I had time to change out of my Lady
Cassandra costume before I opened your door?”
                Caroline laughed at that.