Only one person was left to interview, which was Harriet Morgan. But for now, there were only a couple hours until dinner and Nicu stood in front of the last room he needed to examine.
Everything was going according to plan. Esma was giving Harriet and the girls a tour of the castle, giving Nicu time to investigate.
St. George strode next to him with a raised brow. "I'm highly curious as to what you think you'll find. So far, we've looked in every room and have come up empty-handed. They came here with nothing."
"I'm not looking for things. I'm looking for habits and anything to get a glimpse into these girls. So far," Nicu emphasized opening the door to Harriet Morgan's room. "I have learned that Helen Fletcher loves flowers and excels at making arrangements with them. Anne Darlington is a romantic and reads novels way into dawn. Felicity loves the quiet and looking out at nature. Lastly, Rosa Beaumont—"
"Is the most fascinating creature I have ever beheld." St. George interjected smoothly.
Nicu rolled his eyes, picking up some letters Harriet must've been writing at a little desk across from the bed. "Is an energetic girl trying hard at being a lady, practicing her dancing way into the night."
"You got all that from their rooms?" St. George questioned.
Nicu nodded, putting the correspondence back down. "A vase of flowers sat on the table in Miss Fletcher's room that were freshly pulled from the garden which the girls had been at most of the day. Miss Darlington snuck a book from the library and hid it under her pillow and the candle by her bed was almost nonexistent, showing that she had it lit throughout the night. The window in Miss Wards room had been opened on many occasions causing fresh scratches on the wood and she had sat there staring out into the forest. And in Miss Beaumont's room the rug had been lifted in certain areas and furniture pushed aside indicating she was using the room to practice her dancing."
St. George's brows furrowed in utter disbelief. "How are you certain about all those things."
Nicu was quick to explain while plucking up a paper made boat. "A lot of ways people deal with their anxiety is by doing things that can keep their minds off the experience they went through. Most of the time they distract themselves with their favorite hobbies."
"And of course, that makes sense." St. George said exasperatedly. "You are one of a kind. Now what have you found here?"
The little paper boat sat on Nicu's palm as he examined all the intricate folding that shaped its form. "A very intriguing woman."
The boat flew to St. George, and he caught it, making sure not to crush it. "Are you certain she's the one?"
"I'm not, but something is off. My intuition is never wrong."
Appearing out of nowhere, Kappi jumped on Nicu's shoulder snickering at St. George who looked at the animal with pursed lips. "What is he doing here?"
"He seems rather taken with Miss Morgan," Nicu stated. He wanted time alone in the woman's room and turned to St. George. "Go inform Alastair of everything we discussed and hypothesized."
A blank expression from St. George followed the command. "You are aware that I am a viscount."
Nicu's brows furrowed. "And Alastair is a Marquess. What is your point?"
A deep sigh emerged from St. George's mouth. "Fine, for now I will do as you say, but don't get used to it."
Ignoring St. George's comment, Nicu took the boat from his friend's hand by the tip. "Oh and do ice that eye of yours. It's looking puffy."
A chuckle filled the room and St. George departed, leaving the room quiet with only the sound of the door clicking shut. Nicu listened as St. George's heavy footsteps faded away. Kappi hopped off his perch and made himself comfortable on Harriet's bed.
Nicu had no clue as to why his coon had become so enthralled with the girl. Maybe it was her scent? Nicu remembered how she smelled of the forest, like spring rain when he had carried her. It wasn't an unpleasing aroma, not in the slightest, and it may have reminded Kappi of home.
Nicu set aside his thoughts and began examining the room more thoroughly. He carried the boat with him as he went over to pick up the correspondence again that was to every parent of all the girls from the school.
"Her writing is lovely, but near the middle her hand must've been shaking." Nicu turned, half sitting, half leaning on the desk as if he were having a conversation with his coon. "By how her lettering is slanted and some spots smudged indicates she's left-handed.' His eyes roamed the words and saw the distress in Harriet's writing as she informed parents of their daughters' disappearance.
He set it down and glanced over, noticing a trail of little paper butterflies. "She must make these when she's uneasy."
Nicu placed the boat down, exchanging it for a butterfly. They were slender and perfectly uniformed. The wings had an indent on the sides where she had folded it and the tops were stick straight, whereas the bottom parts of the wings bowed in a gentle motion, making the butterflies seem lifelike. She had placed them in a smooth curved trail along the side of the desk. Nicu followed them one by one until they reached a tiny wood carving of a racoon.
Tilting his head, Nicu picked it up and examined the whittled creature. "I think I may keep you." With that Nicu dropped the carving in the chest pocket of his lose linen shirt.
"What are you doing?"
Nicu turned around, unapologetically staring right at Harriet Morgan. She stood there, hand on the doorknob appearing absolutely bewildered with wide eyes and a distressed brow. This time there was no darkness hiding her and she was indeed pretty.
Her upturned eyes were not smoldering or bewitching, instead they held an angelic countenance and gentleness. Silky lustrous lashes lined what Nicu had originally thought were grey eyes, but now in daylight was the softest green with a hint of silver as if the moon had kissed the grass.
Her dainty face had a sprinkle of pink dusting on her gently rounded cheeks as she realized she was along in a room with a man. That little upturned nose wrinkled in dissatisfaction at seeing Nicu, who was rather indifferent to the predicament.
Slowly, Harriet shuffled in and shut the door, her blue flowered skirt rippling as she did. She appeared so unquestionably wholesome that for a flash of a moment Nicu wanted to prove her distrusting expression right and do something wicked to her.
And that hair, Nicu admired.
It was the thinnest sheet of gold, almost transparent, but still the color shined through like an iridescent and golden hued pearl. His fingers itched to go over and pull out all the pins twisting and stationing such beautiful locks in a horridly strict fashion. Now he understood what his sister meant by letting it breathe.
A harsh squeaking yawn interrupted the heavy atmosphere between the two as Kappi snuggled more into Harriet's bed. Nicu readied himself for her squeal of terror but was immediately surprised to find the little suspecting puff in her brows to vanish and her expression to soften.
"My little savior," she cooed with those bowed rosebud lips. She glided over to Kappi, her poise perfect as she bent down and kissed his little head. "Rest here any time you need."
Never in his life did a woman arouse Nicu's attention quite like this one, and yet she was everything that annoyed him about English women. A mask of perfection and grace with a side of wholesomeness. He never really favored any kind of woman, preferring his life of bachelorhood and solving case after case. But if he did, he assumed it would be one that would match his own eccentricity and fearlessness. An ungovernable woman who masked nothing.
Nicu knew he shouldn't blame this spinster for how London society defined a woman, but she seemed to accept it wholeheartedly.
Harriet turned, giving Nicu her full attention. "I suppose you are trying to find something to make certain of my guilt that you so boldly proclaimed a handful of nights ago."
A smile crawled its way on Nicu's face. "Your assumption is correct madam." He sat, leaning against the desk and pulling a papered butterfly out from behind him. He balanced it on the tops of his knuckles as if it had landed on them. "Origami. Not many people have this skill. It's designed beautifully." His eyes flashed to Harriet's. "You're very talented, Miss Morgan. Tell me, who taught you?"
She took careful steps over to him. Nicu noted the soft flush starting at her neck as she reached behind him to grab another one. He had to applaud her for fighting back her need to run out of the room.
"My father. He would bring me books on it whenever he would visit."
"Ah," Nicu quipped, knowing what visit met. "You're an illegitimate child."
Harriet stiffened a fraction but kept her poise. "Nothing slips past you does it, Detective."
Nicu inclined his head and their eyes locked as he leaned closer, dispelling some space between them. "No, Miss Morgan. I'm afraid not."
Harriet remained stubbornly in check which irked him a little. He needed reactions in order to have a basis on her character, but the woman was irritatingly composed. "If you continue to look the wrong way, Detective Rowe, I'm afraid you will lose this case."
Silence followed and Nicu held up the butterfly to her little upturned nose. "I'm going to keep this if you don't mind and...." Nicu's words died in his throat as he saw the most intriguing beauty mark right above Harriet's right eye that tilted up ever so slightly.
"What is this?" His voice sounded gravely even to his own ears, as if he had caught a cold.
His fingers touched the enchanting spot, causing Harriet to gasp and her hand to fly to his. The moment their skin made contact it was like the energy in the room elevated. Her stunned eyes stared at Nicu with childlike innocence.
His thumb touched her soft skin and slid over it. That's when Nicu acknowledged that this little mark must've been when God kissed his creation for a job well done.
"You're going to be quite the distraction, little gull." Nicu glided his hand down her cheek and along her slender neck to the ruffled collar that hid her lovely throat, playing with delicate frills. "Such a shame for something so pretty to be wrapped up and unenjoyed."
Harriet's face flushed scarlet and he could feel her heartbeat as he brushed his knuckles up the pulse in her neck. "Finally... a reaction from you sweet." He gloated. "A trifle of flirting is all it takes."
Nicu's other hand went to her fingers that held the butterfly and he took it easily from her. Sliding his mouth to that dainty mark, Nicu whispered, "Until dinner, Miss Morgan." Tucking the butterfly into the little alcove of her ear and following the delicate outline with his soft touch, Nicu pinched her earlobe in sweet parting.
And then he left.
Hehehehehehe I really loved editing that scene with Nicu and Harriet! Nicu is just so much fun to write but he does lack social etiquette at times hahahaha!
What do you all think?
Are you wanting more of this story? Because I will be posting another chapter very soon ;)
Love you all!