It also threw much of what she’d assumed into question. A battalion of soldiers had marched past her, which now made her wonder at the assumption that someone was using the legend to enact malice. Could this all be the work of ghosts? The cart had felt real. And that man hadn’t been a ghost.
It was all too much to think about, and suddenly, she felt utterly exhausted.
“Does your husband have any enemies?”
“No, of course not,” she replied. “He was a very happy-go-lucky man. Well-liked. From a good family.”
“You are newly married.”
“Yes.” What did this have to do with anything?
“When was the last time you saw him?”
She had to think back now. “Well, the morning he disappeared.”
“And when did you discover he was missing?”
“I walked down to the village.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to buy an Italian and English lexicon.” This seemed so long ago now.
“And did you?”
“Yes. When I got back, Oliver wasn’t here. I thought he’d gone out, had gone tramping with Mr. Schonberg, as he had before, without leaving word. So I waited, but he didn’t come back. We searched, the men from the village, and some of the guests, but he wasn’t found on the mountain, or in the hotel. They even searched the forest. There was speculation that he’d tried to traverse the glacier.” She left out the speculation that she’d been deserted. “It wasn’t until Mr. Carter disappeared that we knew something more malicious was happening.”
“And how did Mr. Carter disappear?”
“The last time I saw him had been at supper.” Time had so stretched and shifted that she couldn’t tell exactly how many days ago it had been. “Someone had seen him going to take a bath, but I can’t recall who it was. A message appeared on the mirror as I was taking a bath,” she added, feeling it urgent to let him know before the fact was overlooked.
“You think something happened to him in the bath?”
A shiver worked down her spine, because she could imagine the fear and panic of someone holding her down in the bath. “I hope not. I don’t know. Perhaps he was subdued like I was and carried away. He’d been asking questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“I’m not sure. The girls in the countess’ party told me he had been. You will be speaking to them, won’t you?”
“I will.”
“How long have you and Mr. Rowland been married?” The question surprised her, because she didn’t see how it was relevant.
“About two weeks. Three now, I think.”
“That is not a long time. And why were you here?”
“We were going to Italy. Oliver loves Italy and we are going for our honeymoon.”
“Mr. Rowland is a wealthy man, is he not?”
“His family is, I suppose.” Was he thinking this was some kind of kidnapping attempt? She supposed he had to consider it.
“And how long had you courted?”
“About three months.”
“That is quick, is it not?”
“No, not particularly.”
“Did you know him before you courted.”
“Yes. Our families have been acquainted.”
“And is your family wealthy?” These were odd questions.
“Yes, I believe you could say that. We are from the same social circle.” What was he implying? And then it dawned on her—he was querying if she was responsible for Oliver’s disappearance. She snorted. A week back, she wouldn’t even have thought that possible, that someone could question her character, but apparently people could. “I didn’t marry up, Mr. Luchon.”
Now she was deeply offended. It hadn’t been the first time on this trip she’d been treated with a lack of respect. But she’d never had her character truly questioned before. It made her worry what she was now saddled with an incompetent whose main line of inquiry was to prove she was responsible for Oliver’s death. Deep disappointment bit her. Did no one come to assist when it was truly needed?
The countess had said something to that effect, hadn’t she? That one needed to depend on oneself when things were tough. Clemmie hadn’t really understood. She’d been so firm in her belief that people came to her assistance, but it turned out she’d been protected and coddled by her father and brother, and Oliver.
Homesickness flared inside her. And she missed Oliver. Right now, Oliver needed her, so she had to stay, had to be strong. She must find him, whatever state he was in.
Chapter 26
INTERVIEW FINISHED, CLEMMIE returned to her room feeling perturbed about it all, and her confidence in the man was ruined. It was quite clear that a strong line of inquiry for him was her and her being responsible for her husband’s disappearance.
Right now, she felt as though she needed to be away from people, and she felt safe in her room. Even more so as she’d wedged a chair under the handle.
Things were not going well, and her hope that this would all be resolved was dashed. Maybe she should leave now and return home. Her father could hire an investigator to come here and discover what had happened, but all the people who were here now would be gone. This all felt a little hopeless just now.
On the bed, she tucked her hands under her cheek and sighed. She was so very tired. Her body ached, and her heart ached. She really needed to send that telegram to her family. This wasn’t something she could solve on her own. How had she ever thought she would, and that she wasn’t wholly out of her depth?
Sleep claimed her, and she dreamt of men chasing her, of being frightened. Throughout, she kept just out of their reach, but they were coming closer and her luck would run out. And the soldiers, they were there in the background, searching for her. Everyone was trying to find her and she didn’t
