Page 28 of A Murder, a Marquess, and Miss Mifford
The housekeeper gave Emily and Mary a wary glance--as though she feared they might accuse her of having carried out the heinous act.
"Well, we're more interested in knowing if you think that there's anything of note that we might need to know about Ethel, Lady Hardthistle's maid," Emily clarified, keen to put the woman at ease.
Her plan worked, for Mrs Gordon's rigid posture relaxed at once, and she clucked with disapproval.
"Strange, whisp of a lass," Mrs Gordon answered, in a broad Scottish brogue, "Acted so pious all night, haranguing the maids for special teas for her mistress, as well as blankets and shawls...then, the minute the firework display was announced she disappeared into the garden to..."
Mrs Gordon trailed off, her cheeks flushing pink.
"To do what?" Emily pressed, trying to hold her impatience in check.
"I took some time away from my duties, to enjoy the firework display for a moment," Mrs Gordon began, with a careful look to her mistress, who smiled with encouragement for her to continue.
"I was standing at the window of my bedchamber, on the third floor," Mrs Gordon elaborated, "So I had a bird's eye view of the gardens, and who did I see in the darkness sharing a passionate embrace with a gentleman? Only the high-and-mighty Miss Ethel Willard, that's who!"
"Goodness!"
Mary was the first to react to this morsel of gossip; her blue eyes were alight with excitement and she bounced up and down in her seat.
"Did you happen to see who the gentleman was?" Mary pressed, to which the housekeeper shook her head regretfully.
"It was too dark," she commented, "I could only guess it was an older gentleman; portly and stout, so he was."
That wasn't very helpful, Emily thought, from what she could tell, most gentlemen over forty would match Mrs Gordon's description.
"They were quite far away, too," Mrs Gordon defended herself, though no one had chastised her, "I only knew it was Ethel because she'd spent half the night following me about, complaining. They weren't the only kissing couple in the garden, for that matter; such scandalous goings-on amongst the aristocracy!"
"I never knew the English could be so interesting," Lady Albermay drawled, with a slight twinkle in her eye.
"We don't get any of that carry on in Scotland, I can assure you, my lady," Mrs Gordon answered at once, keen to prevent her fellow countrymen from being tarred with the same brush.
"If you were at the window for the firework display, how was it that you did not see the murder taking place?" Emily wondered aloud.
Mrs Gordon clucked in annoyance, and rolled her eyes before she answered.
"One of the chamber maids broke the crystal punch-bowl holding the ratafia, and I was summoned to the rescue. The whole house would fall apart, if it were not for me."
"Indeed it would, Mrs Gordon," Lady Albermay agreed, causing the Scots woman to blush again.
"Did you happen to see Sir Cadogan, at all?" Emily continued, not wishing to drift from the topic at hand.
"I'm not familiar with Sir Cadogan, I'm afraid. We had nearly two hundred souls to feed that night; I can't be expected to know each person who waltzed through the door. Will that be all?" she finished, brushing down the apron of her skirts, "The butcher will arrive soon, and if I'm not there to supervise, cook will have hidden all the best cuts for himself."
"That will be all," Emily answered, offering her a grateful smile, "Thank you so much for your help, Mrs Gordon. It has been most illuminating."
The housekeeper took herself away, and as the door closed behind her, Lady Albermay turned to her two guests with excitement.
"Why," she exclaimed, "If Ethel was carrying out an affair, perhaps she convinced her lover to murder Lady Hardthistle? The hope of marrying into a fortune could induce any man to murder."
"It could," Emily agreed, thoughtfully.
Lord Chambers had been correct to suspect Ethel, after all. Emily owed him something of an apology, for she had berated him sternly for trying to focus their attention away from Sir Cadogan. While the squire was in no way removed from the list, he was now not the only one left upon it.
If only they knew who it was whom Ethel had taken up with.
"If only we knew who the gentleman was," Mary said aloud, echoing Emily's very thought.
"I expect Ethel is in Faversham, on her newly inherited estate," Emily answered, with a sigh. As a single young lady, she could not very well trek down to Kent and hide in the bushes outside Ethel's new home, in the hopes of discovering who this mysterious beau was.
