Page 28 of Nature of the Crime
The table went utterly quiet as Cassie and Thornton held each other in an unblinking glare. Audrey swallowed her last sip of tea and then set her cup in its saucer.
“We are all put out by this business, I’m sure, but I do thank you for coming all this way, Grant,” she said, then pushing back her chair, touched Cassie’s shoulder. “I’d appreciate your company tonight, now that we’ve learned these rooms are not invulnerable.”
Mrs. Plimpton and Becky had been aghast when they’d learned Audrey’s room had been burgled and an item had been taken, only to then be placed on the baron’s body. Both women swore they’d heard and seen nothing. Mrs. Plimpton had been in the kitchen most of the morning, while Becky had left for the market shortly after Audrey and the others set out for St. James’s Church. “I’ll keep the doors bolted from now on, even when we’re all here,” the innkeeper had promised.
But with the house full to the brim with those Audrey knew and trusted, she wasn’t at all fearful about being intruded upon during the night. She only wanted to draw her sister-in-law away from what was shaping into a petty squabble with Hugh’s friend.
Thornton got to his feet. “I am sure the chaise longue in Mrs. Plimpton’s sitting room will do just as well as your bed.” With a fixed stare on Cassie, hot with temper, the mention of her bed somehow managed to ring with innuendo. It was a testament to Michael’s current distraction that he failed to hear it.
Her cheeks pink, Cassie set aside her napkin and stood with overly stiff posture. “No need to be a martyr, my lord. You are welcome to it.”
“How charitable of you.”
Hugh cleared his throat, stood, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Good then, that’s settled. Let’s have a drink. Ladies, if you’ll excuse us.” He flashed Audrey a quick glance before he all but grabbed Thornton’s ear and led him from the dining room.
Cassie groaned the moment they’d gone. “That man is insufferable!”
Audrey bit her tongue. Speaking her mind would not help the situation, especially since she thought Cassie was giving Thornton a difficult time for a poor reason—to deflect her own embarrassment.
“Why don’t you have Ruth gather your belongings and have them moved to my room,” she said instead. “I’m going to bathe, then I’ll join you.”
Becky had started preparing the inn’s sole bath before supper, and Audrey was looking forward to sinking into the hot, fragrant water. The bath was on the ground floor, just off the kitchen, inside what might have once been a pantry. A tub, chair, and small table nearly filled the small, windowless room. The steam from the bath thickened the air with a fine mist, and as Greer helped her to undress, Audrey considered how to ask her maid about Philip’s valet. She soaked a few moments, allowing the hot water to relax her taut, shivering muscles.
But there was no graceful or natural way to begin.
“Greer, I wonder if you might have heard from Grayson, the late duke’s valet.”
Her maid slowed her hand as she lathered a bar of scented Pears soap in a wet cloth. “No, Your Grace. Not since he left the household.”
The light floral scent filled Audrey’s nose as Greer handed her the soapy cloth.
“Did you see his letter? The one he sent to Mrs. Anders?”
Again, Greer shook her head. Though, Audrey thought she might have been avoiding her eyes as she stooped to gather the discarded clothing.
“Do you know anything about his family? Are they in London?” Audrey pressed, sorely lacking in subtlety. But after the events of the day, and the exhaustion that had descendedalmost as soon as she lowered herself into the bath, she couldn’t be bothered to try.
Greer went through the items, needlessly shaking them out one by one and folding them, still giving Audrey her back. “If I recall, they reside in Folkestone.”
After nearly five years of daily interaction with Greer, she’d come to know her maid’s particular habits. For instance, a tucked chin and a steady look meant that she disagreed with something Audrey had either did or said. Not that she would ever voice it. Or, when giving a choice between two gowns for a soiree or some other event, Greer would always hold the one she wished her mistress to choose in her left hand. It had taken nearly two years before Audrey clapped on to that one.
But this was the first time her maid had worked so hard to keep her back to her, to avoid meeting her eyes. It wasn’t to give Audrey privacy as she bathed, either. Greer would often draw a stool next to the tub and remove her pins and combs to prepare her hair for a wash.
“Folkestone isn’t far from here,” Audrey said as she scrubbed her arms and shoulders. “A few hours ride south, along the coast.”
Greer didn’t reply, and Audrey had the sense that she had not even heard her. Peppering her with questions would likely only cause her to make some excuse to leave. So, she kept her lips sealed and waited. It was a lesson in fortitude, and she was rewarded for it.
“Your Grace,” Greer said softly, slowly facing her. But her eyes stayed on the carpet. She didn’t continue.
Audrey hooked her elbow on the edge of the tub. “Out with it, Greer.”
Her maid lowered herself to the wooden chair, hands clasped in her lap. “I know.”
Audrey waited for her to go on. To explain what it was that she knew. When at last, Greer looked up and met Audrey’s bated gaze, understanding crashed into her. She stared at her maid in horror.
“I am the only other person who does,” Greer rushed to add, having seen her flaring panic. “Grayson confided in me before leaving with the duke for France. He said you knew the truth of the matter, and that I was to protect you. Protect the story.”
The steamy air in the closed-up room filled Audrey’s mouth and throat as she tried to draw in deeper breaths. Her body went numb. She gripped the edge of the tub, her mind ablaze. Greer knew the truth. She’d always known.
