A clock chimed somewhere far below her. If it was right, the hour was three in the morning. She retraced their path of earlier in the evening to the foyer, then tried to guess the location of the kitchens. At the end of the corridor on the main floor, there was a smaller door tucked into the corner. It looked as if it led to the servants’ quarters, as it was too plain and small to lead anywhere else.
Daphne opened the door with care and discovered another staircase. This one was less ornate, a very functional staircase that led both up and down.
The servants’ stairs. The kitchen would be down.
She held her candle high and hurried down the stairs. She could smell roast meat then, soap, herbs, and baking. Her nose led her to the darkened kitchen, which was clean and empty. Banked coals glowed on the hearth and a dog was curled up, sleeping there. Its tail thumped at the sight of her but it didn’t abandon its cozy spot.
On one long table, there was a basket with a cloth over it. That was just as Cook left extra baking at home. Daphne lifted the cloth and smiled at the sight of the scones.
Triumph! There were a dozen. She would eat just one. She wouldn’t leave a mess.
Daphne reached in just as someone spoke.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?”
The words were uttered softly, but Daphne was still surprised. She jumped, dropped both candle and scone, then spun to face the person who spoke. The candle extinguished itself, then fell out of the holder and rolled. “I am Daphne Goodenham,” she confessed, a little breathless. “I was hungry.”
A young girl stepped out of the shadows. She was a few years older than Daphne and clearly a maid. “Didn’t you ring for your maid?”
“Jenny is sick. I couldn’t think to trouble her at this hour.”
Her companion seemed to be surprised.
Or suspicious.
“I often go to the kitchen at home. I didn’t think it would be any trouble here.”
“It’s not.” The maid nodded toward the basket. “There are plenty left from today, and they’ll be making new ones in a few hours.” She picked up the candle then set it into the holder again. Daphne used the flint to light it again, and had a better look at her companion. She had curly brown hair and looked to be just as wide awake as Daphne.
She was glad to not be alone.
“I’m Mary,” the maid said with a quick smile and a curtsey.
“How pleasant to meet you,” Daphne said, thinking it would be rude to eat in front of the other woman. Maybe she’d take the scone back to her room.
“You might as well eat here. I won’t tell, and there won’t be crumbs in your room, then.”
“Thank you.”
“Let me get the butter.” Mary also poured Daphne a glass of milk. She then stood on the other side of the heavy table.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Daphne chided, making a gesture of invitation. “You need not stand as if we are at dinner.”
Mary smiled and bobbed a curtsey, then took a seat. Daphne pushed the basket of scones toward her and the girl glanced over her shoulder as if fearful of being caught.
“Tell them I had two,” Daphne said and Mary took one. The girl ate quietly and Daphne chose to take advantage of the opportunity to learn more. “Can you tell me who has come for the wedding?”
“Certainly. The castle is full of guests and so is Hollybrook Park.” Mary ticked off on her fingers. “There’s....”
In the long list, she made no mention of the Duke of Inverfyre, much to Daphne’s disappointment. Daphne smiled. “What a large and merry wedding it will be, with so many guests come to wish them well.”
“And there are more in the village, too.”
“Truly? Is there a tavern there, then?”
“Two of them. The Mermaid’s Kiss is where the gentry will stay, to be sure. The Crown and Anchor is more for sailors.”
Daphne finished her scone, thinking furiously. She was sure the duke had mentioned the Mermaid’s Kiss. Could she find a way to see him again? “I’m curious about Bocka Morrow. We didn’t have time to visit during Samhain. Isn’t there an apothecary’s shop I might visit?”