She softened.
“Sorry.”
He continued.
“Fourth was Helen.”
“She fell down the ravine.”
“Fifth, Rose.”
“Winter sickness.”
“Sixth, Mary.”
“Childbirth.”
“Seventh, Abigail.”
“Avalanche.”
Penny frowned.
“Avalanche?”
“She went toward the lower meadow during a storm.”
“Why?”
“I never knew.”
Declan looked toward the glass.
“Every time I thought perhaps the last death was chance.”
“Then another.”
His voice lowered.
“After Abigail, I stopped pretending.”
“What are you pretending?”
“That I should ever bring another woman there.”
Penny watched him.
He believed it.
Truly.
She asked:
“Were they sick before dying?”
He looked toward her.
“What?”
“Symptoms.”
“Before the stated cause.”
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
Declan frowned.
“Agnes had headaches.”
“How long?”
“Weeks.”
Penny’s attention sharpened.
“Margaret?”
“Weak.”
“Dizzy.”
“She complained her stomach hurt.”
“Louise?”
Declan’s eyes narrowed.
“She had headaches too.”
Penny moved closer.
“Helen?”
“Confused.”
“The day before she fell, she asked where her mother was.”
“Her mother had been dead ten years.”
Penny’s pulse changed.
“Rose?”
“Could barely stand near the end.”
“Mary?”
“She was pregnant.”
“I assumed weakness was normal.”
“Abigail?”
Declan stared.
“Headaches.”
Silence.
Penny asked:
“Did any have discoloration around the mouth?”
He looked confused.
“What?”
“Gums.”
“Gray.”
“Blue.”
“Dark line.”
Declan’s face went white.
“Agnes.”
Penny stopped breathing.
“Margaret too.”
He turned fully toward her.
“How did you know?”
Penny did not answer immediately.
Lead.
Possibly arsenic.
Maybe another heavy metal.
Mining territory.
Old processing mills.
Mountain wells.
Declan saw the calculation in her eyes.
“What?”
Penny spoke carefully.
“Seven deaths with different official causes can still have a shared contributing condition.”
He frowned.
“Speak plain.”
“I don't think you're cursed.”
Declan laughed once.
Bitter.
“You've known me four days.”
“I've known anatomy longer.”
His eyes hardened.
“Don't.”
Penny stopped.
“Don't give me hope because you enjoy solving puzzles.”
That hurt.
Because part of her did enjoy the puzzle.
She had to admit it.
Penny said:
“You’re right.”
Declan looked surprised.
“I am interested.”
“But that does not make the pattern imaginary.”
He looked away.
She continued:
“If I'm wrong, I'll tell you.”
“If I’m right, seven women may have died without anyone asking the right question.”
Declan whispered:
“And if you're wrong?”