“I will speak to him,” Oliver said sternly.
“Well, we’ll see if he’s in any way capable of identifying this man, or if he still insists on arresting me.” Clemmie rose to open the door.
“I insist this interview is without your wife.”
Oliver looked at her. “Why don’t you go have some tea and warm up? I will deal with this.”
There was a certain comfort in the people around her taking care of things for her. A comfort, but she wouldn’t entirely depend on it as she had previously. There were times when she had to take care of herself.
For a moment, she considered insisting she should stay, but she did find Luchon so odious, she wasn’t sure she should force herself to stomach it. And she was tired and thirsty. A bit of tea would do her good.
Clemmie left without saying a word, but she was aware that when Luchon left, Oliver would be alone, and she didn’t trust that he would be safe. Because of this, she would return to Oliver as soon as Luchon was finished with his questions. And then they should probably not be without each other while they were staying there.
Leaving the men behind, she walked to the lobby, where the doctor was just arriving to attend to Mr. Carter, who’d been taken upstairs to his room.
The countess and her party were there too, lingering. Miss Juno saw her and smiled as she came over. “I understand they found your husband and Mr. Carter, which is the best news. Did they say who did this?”
“No, Oliver said it was a thin man. He never saw his face.”
“So not the ghosts, then? Miss Marnier insists it’s the ghosts doing all this.”
“On that account, I don’t know, but I know it’s a man who’s abducting people from this hotel.”
“They didn’t find Mister Hubert,” Miss Juno said. “We must still find him. If not with the others, then where was he taken?”
“I don’t know,” Clemmie said. “There was no trace of him in the cave.”
“So yet more mystery,” Miss Juno said. “Poor Mr. Hubert. And poor Mr. Carter. I hope the doctor is able to help him. It seemed he was badly. How is your husband?”
“Weak from lack of food,” Clemmie said. “The constable is interviewing him now.”
“Have you eaten? You must be hungry?” Miss Marnier said. “Why don’t you join us for a late lunch? It’s all been too much up in the air to eat today.”
The countess’ party hadn’t been there as they’d eaten breakfast early that morning.
“That is very kind, but I need to tend to Oliver.”
“Of course,” Miss Marnier said, and then she and Miss Juno bid goodbye and walked toward the dining room. Clemmie took a seat in the lobby and waited. It was quiet for once. Everyone was off tending to something, so this was the first moment Clemmie had been alone since leaving her room that day. What an eventful day. It was only early, but it felt as though it had been several days long.
And Oliver had been found. He was alive and well. The relief was deep. Her husband was still her husband.
Mr. Weber appeared, looking harried.
“Oh, Mr. Weber,” she called. “Did you manage to send that telegram yet?”
“No, I’m sorry. With the search party, there was no one to take it to Bern.”
“Well, in that we found Mr. Rowland, I don’t think it is necessary to send it now. It will only distress his parents. It seems like such a long time, but it was only a few days he was gone.”
“As you wish, Madame,” he said.
“How is Mr. Carter?”
“The doctor is tending to him. The injury is to his head. It seems he was hit harder, or took the blow worse than either you or your husband.”
A man walked into the door and Mr. Weber looked over. “Please excuse me,” he said with a smile, before going to attend the man. It seemed he knew him. They whispered quietly between themselves. “I will get the constable,” Mr. Weber finally said and walked off without another word, leaving the man standing uncomfortably with his hat in his hands. He looked like a man who lived here, rather than one who traveled through.
After a few moments, Clemmie followed, wondering what was going on. Also, if the constable was being taken away, Oliver would be left on his own, and she’d decided they were better off in each other’s company from now on.
Talking reached her as she walked down the hall towards the bathing room. The door was open and the constable was stepping out to joined Mr. Weber.
“Where did you say he was found?” Mr. Luchon asked.
“On the road south,” Mr. Weber said. “Some twelve miles south of the village.”
“I see,” Mr. Luchon responded, completely ignoring her as he walked past. Clemmie continued to the bathroom, seeing Oliver standing with his dressing gown on. He looked weak, but he was standing.
“You need new clothes,” Clemmie realized. “I’ll go get some.” His filthy clothes were in a pile in the corner. They couldn’t be recovered.
“I feel brave enough to dash to our room in this dressing gown. It’s large enough to protect my modesty.”
Modesty wasn’t Oliver’s strongest driver. In fact, he liked to shock people a little with his jokes. Clemmie smiled. She was so utterly glad he was still alive. “Come on, then,” she said, waiting for him to join her. The walk back to their room was slow, the stairs particularly so. “What was that all about?”
“Some man, a footman, fell off a carriage and got trampled. Or runover. Anyway, there was an accident and a man has died.”
“That’s terrible. I’ve had enough of people dying or disappearing. I wish things would be boringly normal for a while. I suppose Mr. Luchon will be called away to deal with it.”
“It seems the carriage set off from here,” Oliver said.
“From here? But no one has been allowed
