Page 43 of On Edge

Before I came to Grayfleet, I had been writing things down, and it helped. But I lost my things when my suitcase went swimming in the lake, including my new diary.

Mentally, I addget notebookto my list of things to do, and then head for breakfast.

But when I get to the dark dining room, there’s nothing laid out. The storm clouds outside are thick and heavy, making it feel like nighttime even though it’s close to 9 a.m. I’m a bit too early, so I go straight to the kitchen to look for food, or at least a cup of tea.

But voices, low and sharp, stop me outside the door. I peer inside, catching a glimpse of two people talking in hushed tones through the gap—Mrs. Oakley and a man.

As I shuffle closer to listen, the sweet smell of baking coming from it reminds me too much of home, and the warmth from the aga brings life to my frozen fingers and toes.

All I want to do is go inside, stand by the oven, and devour buttered toast with jam.

I shove the urge away.

“I don’t know what he’s thinking, keeping her here,” grates the man. “He can’t go through with this sham marriage.”

I can’t quite see his face because he’s turned away and has a cap on, but he sounds like Mr. Mundel.

“He does whatever he wants, you know that. Always has,” Mrs. Oakley replies. “And letting her stay is better than Master Troy losing his home again, don’t you think?”

That stops me. Does she mean Grayfleet? He only bought this place a year and a half ago. When did he lose it? And why?

“He should have tied her to that damn boat and sent her back where she came from,” he says.

“Like he should have done with you when you followed him from prison, begging for a job?”

My stomach twists at that. Severinwasin prison? I feel like I knew that.

Mundel snorts. “That was a long time ago. I don’t hear you complaining. Just make sure you keep her out of the way when that reporter Ragg gets here.”

Ragg.Where have I heard that name before?

“I don’t know why I should. Not when you’re speaking to me like that, Elias.”

Mundel chuckles and says something I can’t hear that makes Mrs. Oakley giggle like a schoolgirl.

Okay, now I’m uncomfortable.

“At least, he seems to be in a good mood today,” she sighs.

“The Harper Black deal is on, that’s why.”

“Well, you know him bett?—”

A floorboard squeaks. Mrs Oakley looks over and spots me. She seems surprised, but recovers quickly with a charming smile. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Can I help you, dear?”

“Sorry, Mrs. Oak—I mean, Kathy, I just wanted to see if I could grab a cup of tea or….” I catch the back of Mr. Mundel as he spears me with a dark look and then heads out the back door.

“Tea? Of course.” Her eyes soften as she takes in what I’m wearing. “It fits then?”

“Yes, er, thank you.”

She inclines her head as though it’s nothing. “There’s a host of coats and knits in the boot room, so help yourself. Now. Shall I make you something to eat? What would you like? Pancakes?”

I blink at Kathy. She said the magic word. I can’t say no to pancakes.“Pancakes would be lovely.”

“Oh, before I forget. These arrived for you.” She reaches into her apron and hands me a padded envelope.