Page 14 of One Last Whisper

“What about the young man she was with last night?” Matilda insists. “Has anyone talked to him?”

“If anyone talks to him, I’m sure we’ll hear of it,” Theresa says, finally irritable. “But there’s no point in worrying ourselves sick over it. Don’t you two agree to spend the night with the first handsome young man who winks at you. That’s your lesson learned. As for you, Miss Mary, I know you’re new here, so I don’t blame you for worrying, but if his Lordship says he’ll do something, he’ll do it. He’s got more reach than any of us do, and he’ll see to it that the right people look for Sarah and ensure she’s found. Besides, it’s at least slightly possible that she’s left of her own accord.”

“Oh, not Sarah,” Franny insists. “She wouldn’t do that. She’s a good girl.”

“Bit daft,” Matilda adds, “but a good girl nonetheless.”

Their sentiment echoes Theresa’s own from this morning, but the older maid’s face hardens. “I surely thought so,” she says brittlely. Then, louder, “but I’ll hear no more of it. Finish your dinner, then start on the dishes. We’ll have the same work to do as always, no matter what’s happened to Sarah.”

The other two share a frightened look, but they speak no further. For my part, I recall Oliver’s testimony from earlier. His words and Theresa’s behavior now increases my suspicion. This is not the first time a disappearance has happened in this house.

And, I fear, it won’t be the last.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I spend the night awake, not because I fear my nightmares, although I am grateful to avoid them, even at the cost of my rest. I lay awake because I wonder how I might investigate my suspicions. It’s clear that Theresa suspects foul play as well, and working for this family for fifteen years, she must surely have heard the same cries Oliver has.

I should have asked her about this yesterday, but I don’t, and I don’t plan to ask her today. I don’t think she’ll tell me. Her worry for Sarah was touching, but by the evening, it’s clear that she won’t look any further for the missing maid. Unlike me, she has the ability to avoid entangling herself in a mystery she isn’t equipped to solve.

I still don’t have that ability.

But who do I ask? I don’t dare bother his Lordship. Cordelia might talk to me, but I don’t want to add to her stress.

I am at my wit's end. Fortunately, I have a friend who makes a career out of solving mysteries. That career is on hold while he establishes himself in Boston, but Sean O'Connell is first brought to my attention as a private investigator, and he has proven to be a very effective one.

I go to the bathroom and dial his number, hoping that if I speak softly behind closed doors, the sound won’t carry out of my room. He answers quickly.

“Mary? My God, how late is it over there?”

“So late that it’s early,” I reply. “Listen, I need your help.”

He is silent for a moment. Then he sighs. “Again, Mary?”

“Sean, I’m in no mood for your judgment,” I snap. “You haven’t had to hear a child complain of ghosts or watch an entire staff of servants quaking with fear for their missing maid.”

“So it’s a maid missing this time,” Sean replies. “Have you checked his Lordship’s bedroom?”

“This is no time for crass jokes. Sean, please. I’m serious.”

“So am I. You forget I lived in Britain for forty-two years. Trust me, there’s not a Lord or Lady in that House who hasn’t bedded every pretty maidservant they’ve ever had. Or ugly maidservant. Or manservant. It’s become a running joke in that country.”

“Well, it’s not a joke, and I fear that something worse than sex has happened to her.”

“And once again, it has to be you who finds out what.”

I rub my temples. “Are we really going to have this argument again?”

He sighs heavily. “No, we won’t. God knows I love wasting my time with you, but I’m a bit sore from the last time we wasted time.”

“Oh, go soak your head. Listen, I need you to look into Lord Blackwood’s history. Look into the history of the manor as well. Find out how many women have disappeared here.”

“A thousand-year-old castle in Northumberland? It might be easier to find out how many women have lived there who haven’t disappeared.”

“Sean—”

“All right, all right. You know I’m going to do it. Don’t get bloody pissy with me.” He sighs. “Tell me about this latest poor soul.”

“Her name was Sarah. I don’t know her last name. She went missing last night after taking the evening off to go on a date.”

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