Always in My Dreams (51 page)

He waved one hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. I'd hoped for something else from you, but I can accept the disappointment. You'll begin your duties immediately. Walker says that you're in the room next to mine, is that right?"

Skye felt her heart knocking again. She rubbed her palms in the folds of her plain gray skirt, twisting the fabric just a bit between her fingers. "That's correct, but—"

Parnell was leaning against the sideboard. He straightened now, the simple action cutting Skye off. He took a step forward. "Let's be frank, Skye. We both know the reason you've come back here. It wasn't the additional money, though I'm certain you're greedy enough to have appreciated it. And it wasn't the work, though I think you've shown a certain aptitude for it. I don't believe it's Walker Caide either. You came back because you've decided that I may be worth pursuing."

Skye couldn't help her little start. "Mr. Parnell," she began. "I think you have the wrong—"

"We'll talk about it this evening," he said.

Realizing she was dismissed, Skye all but fled the room.

* * *

Skye's reinstatement to her position went awkwardly. Annie Staplehurst couldn't hide her resentment. Though she welcomed Skye back and said all the right things, she was visibly hurt and unhappy. Rose and Daisy Farrow snickered a great deal between them. They had their own ideas about Skye Dennehy's return and the glances they traded spoke eloquently for their silence. Jenny Adams was more blatantly disapproving, tsking a great deal as she bent over her sewing. Hank Ryder was polite but reserved.

Corina Reading's expression was the most difficult for Skye to discern. She was the most guarded in her reaction to meeting Skye again. Suspicion and anger would flash suddenly, giving Skye a glimpse of the emotion that simmered beneath Corina's cool surface.

Young Matthew Staplehurst was the only one genuinely glad to see her again. He hung on her skirts throughout the day as she directed the running of the household. He also provided her with an opportunity to leave the house and meet privately with Walker.

Walker came upon them by the swan pond. Skye gave Matt a handful of crusts and let the boy continue pitching them in the direction of the elegant, preening white birds. "I told Annie that I would get Matt," he said.

"Was she angry?"

"No."

Skye wanted to touch Walker's face, to feel the shape of his jaw in the heart of her palm. Afraid someone would see, she didn't dare. "Annie's hurt that I've come back. She thought her position was secure. I hadn't expected she would resent me."

"We don't have time to talk about Annie," he said. He glanced at Matt, made certain the boy was safe on the edge of the icy pond, and then turned his attention back to Skye. "How did your interview with Parnell go?"

"He thinks I came back because I want to be his mistress."

Walker's mouth flattened. Wind ruffled his uncovered hair and he raked it back impatiently. "He's testing you, Skye. I hope you didn't appear too flattered by his proposition."

"Flattered?" Her voice raised a notch. "How can you think I'd be flattered?"

"I don't think you'd be flattered. I simply didn't know what you would reveal to him. If you seem too eager, he may think it's odd. You rebuffed him before."

"I threatened to kill him before. I may do it again. He expects me to give him some sort of answer this evening and I think he intends to come to my room to get it."

Walker rubbed the back of his neck. The cords of tension there were so tight that his head ached. "This is no good, Skye. You should have stayed in the city. I was out of my mind to let you come back here."

"I just can't leave now," she said. "There has to be another way."

"You can come to my room."

She shook her head. "We agreed that wasn't the answer. If I do that, we'll always be watched. You won't have a chance to explore on your own, and neither will I." A swan hissed behind her. She held out her hand toward Matt. "Come along, Matthew. We're going back to the house now." The boy tossed his last bread crust and came running. He slipped his hand into Skye's outstretched one. "I'll tell him no," Skye said to Walker. "He'll have to accept it. If he's really testing me, then he'll accept it."

"And if he's not?"

"I have a gun." She turned, tugged on Matt's hand, and began walking.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Walker demanded. He felt Matt look up at him anxiously and realized he was scowling. "You never said anything about a gun."

She shrugged. "It's Parnell's. The one with the cutaway trigger that he aimed at you. You hid it in your wardrobe and I found it when I was packing. I put it in my trunk and I've had it ever since." Her beautiful features were serene as she turned her head in his direction. "Don't worry, Walker. I know how to use it. I'm really quite an excellent shot. I thought it was proper training for adventuring." She smiled. "Seems I was right."

He wasn't amused. "Three days," he said tightly. "If we have nothing at the end of three days, I'm sending you back to the city. In that damn trunk, if I have to."

* * *

Walker didn't like to admit that Skye's presence made a difference in his search. In the months prior to her coming to Granville he had found himself all too often under Corona's watchful eye. Mrs. Reading wasn't easily distracted, disarmed, or charmed. She kept a close eye on her brother and a closer one on him. He couldn't recall her having an easy smile for anyone or a glance that wasn't suspicious. She would have allowed him to take her to bed. There had been overtures in the past, and he had been tempted. In the end, he never pressed for her favors, afraid it would be too difficult to extricate himself.

Now Corina was too busy watching Skye to pay attention to his movements around the house. He was no longer so concerned that she would come upon him unexpectedly. If she was prowling now, at least she had other prey in mind. Walker slipped into the library unnoticed. He considered locking the door behind him but decided to do so would give rise to too many questions. There was always the possibility that someone would try to get in.

He had also thought about waiting until night and making his visit to the library while everyone was sleeping. That posed its own risks. The lamp he would have had to carry could have roused someone. Sometimes it seemed that the more openly a thing was done, the easier it was to conceal. Who would suspect him of being foolish enough to rifle Parnell's desk in broad daylight?

Skye had described the desk to him in perfect detail and explained how to access the panels that uncovered small pocket drawers. No special equipment was required to unlock the desk's secrets. The craftsmanship was exquisite, relying on springs and weights and counterweights. As the first panel opened up under his light touch in the right-hand corner, Walker acknowledged to himself that he couldn't have found it without Skye's guidance. He wasn't so certain he was going to admit it to her.

Walker held his breath as he eased the panel open. The pocket drawer was only a few inches high but more than eight inches deep. It held two rolled documents. His fingers had closed over one when he heard footsteps in the hall. They paused just outside the door.

Shutting the panel quickly, Walker opened the book he had brought in the event of an interruption. By the time the door was cracked he was comfortable in Parnell's large chair, his legs stretched in front of him, looking for all the world as if he were a man of leisure.

It was Corina Reading's small, flawlessly featured face that appeared in the opening. "I didn't think I was going to find you," she said. Her eyes dropped to the book in his lap, but she said nothing. Her disapproval was in her cool tone. "Hank requires your help in the stable."

"Oh?" Walker shut the book and laid it aside. "Did he say why?"

"He didn't say and I didn't ask. I only offered to look for you because I didn't want him tracking stable muck through my kitchen."

Walker got to his feet. "I suppose a few minutes to myself was too much to ask."

Corona's smile was brittle. "You work here, just like the rest of us. It's only right that you should have to earn your wage."

"That's what I was doing," he said calmly. "That's the Granville history I was reading."

"I know what it was. I don't know why you're suddenly interested in it."

"I'm interested in whatever poses a threat to Mr. Parnell." He gave her an easy smile as he passed her on the way out. "And that includes the ghost of Hamilton Granville."

* * *

Jonathan Parnell looked over the schedule for the science and technological exposition while he sipped an after-dinner drink. He held his comments until he had read everything. Watching him closely, Walker tried to detect an edge of panic in Parnell's expression. Except for lifting his glass more frequently, there was nothing notable in his reaction.

"It was good of you to bring this," Parnell said. "I read the
Chronicle
article you sent me, of course, but this covers the event more completely. It's quite an impressive gathering. You'll arrange for additional security, won't you?"

"What did you have in mind?" asked Walker.

"I'll be very exposed. There may well be another attempt on my life. I know there hasn't been one here for months, but I don't think we've frightened anyone off. It's more likely that it's being planned." Parnell set the schedule aside. "I think a search of every man who attends my lecture is in order."

"A search?" he asked. "Of every man?
These
men?" Walker had always known Parnell would think of some way to keep from attending the exposition. The surprise was only that he was being so clever about it. He wondered how much of the idea was influenced by Corina. "You can't be serious."

"Are you saying you can't arrange it?"

"I can arrange it," Walker told him. "I doubt that I'll gain anyone's cooperation in carrying it out. Can you imagine someone like Morgan or Rockefeller submitting to a search?"

Parnell shrugged. "They'll have to, won't they? If they want to hear me speak, they'll have to do it."

"If you insist, naturally I'll see what I can do, but I think there's no sense in it. You'll be speaking to an empty room. The men who plan to attend your lecture won't stand for the indignity."

"You're probably right." Parnell rolled his tumbler between his palms. "I'll have to cancel the engagement. There's nothing else I can do."

And that was that, Walker thought. Parnell had used him to neatly avoid appearing at the exposition. Had Walker agreed easily to make the arrangements, had he supported Parnell's ridiculous idea, Parnell would rightly have been suspicious. "Perhaps if you had mentioned the exposition earlier," he said. "There may have been some way to provide the security without an individual search of all the participants."

"I forgot about it," Parnell said carelessly. "I can't be expected to remember these things when I'm involved in my work. There should have been a reminder."

"Of course," Walker agreed. "It's just too bad about the timing. I could have planned something if I'd known." Relief flashed briefly in Parnell's eyes. "Go ahead and send your regrets, but I'll be working on the problem. If there's a way for you to be there safely, I'll pursue it. I know you're disappointed." Walker had to temper his smile as he saw an edge of panic return to Parnell's expression.

A scratching at the door interrupted Parnell. "What is it?" he demanded impatiently.

Walker stood as Annie Staplehurst appeared on the threshold. She was clearly uncomfortable, her pale gray eyes darting uneasily between Parnell and him. "What is it, Annie?" he asked.

She couldn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm wanting to speak to Mr. Parnell," she said.

Parnell sighed. "Well? What is it?"

When she didn't answer immediately, Walker began to suspect he was the reason for her discomfort. "I think Annie means she wants to speak to you alone. It's no problem. I have to get back to helping Hank. There's a broken axle on the carriage." Before Parnell could object, Walker took his leave.

"Well?" Parnell demanded again. "What is it, Miss Staplehurst?"

Annie's fingers fidgeted in the folds of her gown. She cleared her throat. "I don't wish to appear forward, sir, but I've come about something that concerns you."

Parnell held out his empty tumbler and indicated with a careless gesture that she should refill it. "You can speak freely," he said as she rushed to take the glass. "Don't top it off," he told her. "Half will do."

Annie poured the drink. It was difficult to do because her hands were shaking. Some of the liquor dribbled over her fingers. She hastily wiped them on her apron before giving the tumbler back to Parnell. "I've come about something I heard today," she said. "I thought it was important enough for you to know." She felt his keen eyes on her and began to wish she hadn't come at all. "I believe Miss Dennehy has a gun," she blurted, looking everywhere but at him. "I thought you'd want to know."

One of Parnell's lightly colored brows kicked up. "A gun?" he asked. "Have you seen it?"

"No, sir."

"No? Then how did you come by this information? Did Miss Dennehy tell you this herself?"

"Oh, no. She doesn't suspect I know. Matthew told me." Parnell's expression was skeptical, and Annie went on quickly to explain. "I know he's just a boy, but he's smart as a whip, and he hears and sees things that surprise me all the time. I suppose it's the way of children. No one pays the least attention and then suddenly you hear yourself quoted by them." She stopped abruptly, realizing she was rambling. "Miss Dennehy took Matt with her to the swan pond this afternoon. It wasn't long after that he started talking nonsense about a gun. I didn't pay him any mind at first, but when he kept it up, I began to take notice."