* * *
Ivy was tired of waiting for the maid. All she wanted was to soak in a nice warm tub, and then dress for dinner. But first she needed her clothes. As she opened her bedroom door and started down the hallway, she heard Gertrude’s muffled exclamation, followed by a muted thump.
From the top of the stairs, she saw the limp form of the old woman sprawled facedown below her. In an instant she was at her side.
“Aunt Tru.” She rolled the heavy form over and felt for a pulse at her throat. Relieved to find her alive, she began loosening the buttons at her neck.
“Chester. Chester.” Frantically kneeling over the prone figure, she vigorously rubbed the cold hands.
Relief flooded through Ivy at the sight of Caine at the top of the stairs. As he rushed to them, she called “Hurry, Caine. I don’t know what’s happened.”
The front door opened. The butler ran to them, then, seeing Miss St. Martin’s unconscious form, he hurried to the phone. “I’ll call her doctor.”
“Chester, is she taking any medication?” Caine touched a hand to Trudy’s forehead.
“Not that I know of,” the butler called as he dialed the number.
White Ivy and Caine rubbed her hands, a little color began returning to Trudy’s ashen face. Her lids fluttered open and she stared wordlessly from one to the other.
“Thank goodness. Aunt Tru, what happened?”
The old woman stared at Ivy for long moments, then turned to Caine. She could read the concern in their eyes. Looking away, she whispered, “I must have exercised too vigorously. It was nothing. I just fainted.”
“People don’t faint for no reason,” Caine protested.
“I’m old, Caine,” she snapped, trying to sit up.
“Sometimes I think you’re younger than I am. Now lie still. Chester’s calling the doctor.”
“No. I won’t have it. Chester,” she commanded, “hang up that phone this instant.”
Confused, the butler glanced at Caine.
“I want the doctor to look at her,” Caine ordered. Chester began to speak into the phone.
“You hang that up, do you hear? And help me to my bed.”
“You’re not going anywhere until the doctor has a look at you.”
Aunt Trudy’s voice grew stronger. Her face was pink with rage. “I will not be seen lying on the floor. I insist that you take me to my room.”
As Caine lifted her, she turned to Ivy. “And you can retrieve my mail and bring it to me.”
Ivy nodded.
While Caine mounted the stairs with his burden, Ivy bent to her task. The letters had scattered all over the foyer floor. One envelope, she noted, had been torn open. Searching for its contents, she spied a paper tucked into a corner under the stairs. She picked it up, straightened, then placed it on top of the other letters. Quickly scooping up the rest of the mail, she hurried to catch up with Caine.
In the elegant master bedroom, Caine lowered his aunt to her bed.
“I don’t want you to get up until the doctor has had a chance to examine you. I’d rather not have you fall again.”
Gertrude’s temper flared. “I won’t be treated like some weak old woman.”
In his concern for her, his voice hardened. “Downstairs, you wanted to blame this on being old. Now you’re resisting it. Make up your mind, Trudy.”
Overhearing him, Ivy resented the way he was browbeating his aunt. “Caine.”
He turned at the sound of Ivy’s voice.
“Here’s your aunt’s mail. Where would you like me to put it?”
Distractedly running a hand through his hair, he muttered, “I don’t care. Anywhere.”
“I want it,” his aunt commanded.
Something in her tone caught his attention. He took the mail from Ivy’s hands and began to hand it to Gertrude. His gaze fell on the opened letter on the top of the pile. Turning away, he scanned the strange message. His puzzled look slowly gave way to an angry frown.
He glanced at his aunt. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave this bed.”
With his hand firmly gripping Ivy’s arm, he hauled her roughly out of the room. In the hallway, he brandished the letter. “Where the hell did you get this?”
She yanked her arm away and rubbed it gingerly. “Do you enjoy bruising me?” With a glance at the letter, she said, “I picked it up near the stairs. The envelope was opened. Evidently Aunt Tru was reading it on her way upstairs. Why? What’s wrong?”
He regarded her suspiciously. “You don’t know what’s in here?”
She shook her head, and he turned back toward the bedroom.
“Well, aren’t you going to let me read it?”
He paused a moment, then turned around to study her questioning look.
“No. If you’re telling the truth, I think it’s better that you don’t know.”
“If I’m...” Her voice rose. “You’re calling me a liar?”
“Look, Ivy. Stay out of this.”
“I’m already in it. I was the one who found your aunt. Remember?”
“Yes. And the one who found this letter.” His tone grew ominous. “Very convenient.”
She followed on his heels as he stormed into his aunt’s bedroom, bewildered by his next words.
“Is this someone’s idea of a joke?”
For long moments Gertrude stared at the letter in her nephew’s hand. Then she did something completely out of character. She rolled to her side and began to cry.
Stunned, Ivy and Caine could only stare at this unbelievable scene. In all the years they had known this iron-willed woman, they’d never seen her cry.
With a strangled sound, Ivy snatched the letter from Caine’s hand and read it quickly. A feeling of revulsion swept over her.
“Why would someone do this to her?”
Caine was watching her reaction closely. Glancing at the sobbing woman, he shrugged. “I don’t know. But I intend to get to the bottom of this.” He took the letter from Ivy’s hand and folded it before shoving it in his pocket.
“But why—”
“I said stay out of this, Ivy. It isn’t your concern.”
She clamped her mouth shut. Dropping to the side of the bed, she touched the old woman’s shoulder and watched helplessly as she cried out her fears.