“I heard how you’ve given the poor man a very hard time,”
Faith said.
Amy shook her head in wonder. “I know. I remember it. You’d think that if I…or my body, I guess, came here months ago, I would only remember the past I had here in this time. But I seem to have been cut in half ever since I first saw Tristan.”
“You mean, since your first dream,” Zoë said.
“A dream that was only a few days ago, but I seem to have been purchased by Tristan a year ago.”
“Fourteen months,” Zoë said.
Faith and Amy looked at her.
“He told me,” Zoë said.
“You two certainly seem to have had a long, intimate talk today,” Amy said, her eyes blazing. “You talked about his wife and about me.”
“I did no such—”
“Are you two going to get into a catfight?” Faith asked. “If you are, I’m going to leave.” She looked from one to the other, and when they were calm, she spoke again. “I think we need to figure out what we’re to do here. Do you both agree?”
“Yes,” Amy said. “But we know that. We’re here to keep Tristan from being killed. That’s the number one task, the only task, as far as I know.”
“All right,” Faith said. “Amy, what have you found out about who wants to kill him?”
She put down her fork. “No one. I’ve thought about it until my brain seems to have turned inside out.”
“Did you think about it while you were yelling at boys about blood on the floor?” Zoë asked, an eyebrow raised.
“For your information, yes. I’ve been running that kitchen for so long that I could do it in my sleep.”
“Then why were you so fierce about getting rid of me today?” Zoë asked.
“Tomorrow you can stay with me all day,” Amy said sweetly. “I’ll let you peel potatoes. How does that sound?”
Zoë mumbled something.
“What was that?” Amy asked.
Zoë narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to go out with Russell tomorrow. We’re going to do some drawing.”
“Oh,” Amy said. “So maybe you liked that I sent you away from the kitchen. Maybe you liked that I got past your stubborn bullheadedness to meet a man you had decided you wanted nothing to do with before you even met him.”
Zoë started to speak, but Faith looked at her. “I think you should give up. You’re not going to win. And, besides, I don’t think you want to win, do you?”
Zoë sighed. “Okay, let’s go back to his lordship. You sure do like pretty boys, don’t you?” she said to Amy, who immediately started to say something angry in return.
“So help me,” Faith said, “if you two don’t stop this—” She left her threat open.
“There’s no one who wants to harm Tristan,” Amy said.
“But there is,” Faith said softly. “You and I know that someone kills him while he’s sleeping. It may seem that everyone likes him, but at least one person doesn’t. Who would benefit by his death?”
“His uncle and his sister would inherit the estates,” Amy said.
“I can vouch that the sister is a lovely little thing,” Faith said. “She adores her brother.”
“Maybe she’s in love with someone and her autocratic brother won’t let her marry him,” Zoë said.