Page 28 of The Tempting of Thomas Carrick
Niniver shrugged lightly. “She might have been, but Joy wasn’t an apprentice—not for as far back as I can recall.”
Chewing, Thomas nodded. He swallowed, then said, “Joy was a recognized healer from long before Mrs. Edge left.” He frowned as if trying to bring something into focus, but then shook his head. “When Norris was born and things didn’t go well with my aunt, I remember Joy being called in to spell Mrs. Edge, so she’s been—she was—a recognized healer at least from that time.”
So for twenty years at least. “And she was from a local family?” Lucilla asked.
Niniver answered. “The Burnses have been on the estate, a part of the clan, for generations, but only the two of them—Faith and Joy—were left.” Niniver’s expression sobered. “And now they’re all gone.”
Lucilla focused on Thomas. Accepting his implied assessment that neither Niniver nor Norris was involved in any way with whatever was going on, she stated, “The one thing I cannot readily accept is that Joy Burns was a competent and experienced healer, one who grew up and lived all her life on the estate, yet our only explanation for her death—at least to this point—is that she mistook some fungus or herb and ate something that killed her.”
Thomas grimaced. “I agree that’s not a very likely thesis.” He met Lucilla’s emerald eyes. “But until we uncover a more plausible option, that’s the only possibility we have.”
Which proves we need to investigate further.
He could all but hear the words, even though neither he nor Lucilla gave voice to them. Her determination to get to the bottom of who had killed Joy Burns, how, and why was all but palpable. She wasn’t going to let the matter rest; aside from all else, Joy Burns had been a peer of sorts.
The plundered platters were replaced with a bowl of trifle.
While they consumed servings of the sweet treat, Thomas examined his motives and Lucilla’s. Despite not wanting her to involve herself in learning what was behind the recent deaths, he felt forced to acknowledge that, were he in her shoes, he would do…exactly what he knew she intended to.
He also could not argue that, when it came to investigating the mysterious death by poison of a healer, she was better qualified than he.
By the end of the meal, when they rose from the table, he’d achieved a degree of acceptance. Following her out of the dining room, he asked, “What are you planning on doing next?”
She glanced at him, briefly searched his eyes as if registering his resignation. “I’m going to speak with the housekeeper and the cook.” They’d reached the front hall; she halted and looked around.
“I’ll take you and introduce you.” Niniver had followed them from the dining room. “If you’d like.”
Seeing the shy diffidence in his cousin’s fair features, Thomas—reluctantly—kept his lips shut.
“Thank you.” Lucilla smiled at Niniver.
Norris, who had trailed them from the dining room, stepped past them, strode for the main stairs, and went quickly up.
Lucilla pointed in the same direction. “That way?”
Niniver nodded, and the two women walked toward the stair hall and the corridor to the kitchens that ran off that.
“Do you know Alice Watts, Joy’s apprentice?” Lucilla asked.
“Not really,” Niniver returned. “We…have never been encouraged to associate with the staff.” She hesitated, then added, “Or, in my case at least, with the wider clan.”
Thomas stood looking after the pair as their voices faded. Niniver’s words rang in his mind, sparking memories. Reminding him of why Norris in particular showed no interest whatsoever in the clan, in the people or the estate. Returning to the household after a full two years’ absence, he was seeing it anew, through clearer eyes.
Faintly frowning, he considered, then trailed after the two ladies as far as the bottom of the stairs. There, he paused. Lucilla would be safe with the housekeeper and cook in the kitchen, which left him free to pursue his own line of investigation.
As she and Niniver passed out of his sight, he turned and climbed the stairs.
CHAPTER 5
[Lucilla sat at the well-scrubbed deal table in the servants’ hall, a mug of tea cradled between her hands. As she had assumed, the lull after luncheon was the perfect time to interview Mrs. Kennedy and the cook, a surprisingly thin woman named Gwen. Although several maids were clattering and chatting in the scullery, washing and drying the luncheon dishes, all the rest of the staff were out and about their duties elsewhere; the servants’ hall, off the kitchen, was warm, comfortable, and relatively private—the right sort of place to encourage confidences.
Niniver had introduced Lucilla to the two women and had added a request that they freely answer whatever questions Lucilla posed. For a moment, Niniver had hesitated, dithering, but then had retreated. For which Lucilla was grateful; both Mrs. Kennedy and Gwen had relaxed and had proved amenable to sitting with her and telling her all they knew of the Burns family, and of Faith and Joy.
Both women knew who Lucilla was; they saw nothing odd in her sitting with them and sharing a pot of tea. They sat opposite her, mugs in their hands, their thoughts revolving about the dead women.
“I still can’t believe it.” Mrs. Kennedy’s eyes were red-rimmed. “Both gone—just like that. On the same night. And them the last two of the Burnses.”
Gwen snorted softly. “Can’t believe it is right.” She looked at Lucilla. “Well, you’re a powerful healer, too, so you’d know. However could Joy have picked the wrong sort of thing and eaten something that poisoned her?”
