Page 33 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
Frantic now, feeling the body pressing along one side of her, Alicia did the only thing she could. She kicked out at her feet at the descending weight and rolled out the other side of the bed, landing with a thump on the floor, still tangled in the blanket, with both pillows next to her. Startled from the sudden fall, terrified, she stared up at the face peering down at her from the bed, the one hand reaching down to grab at her.
Owen. The brother of the Duke. The man she was supposed to follow, who was up to no good things at all, according to Elias.
Behind him the door opened and shut quickly, a hum cut off in confusion coupled with a very female shriek. “My Lord!” followed by a stream of words voiced with all the contempt that could be packed into a handful of syllables ending on a betrayed sob. “Alicia! You dare act the doxy with my love?”
Which made it the third time that day where Alicia’s morality had been called into question.
Chapter 24
“Your Grace, if I might have a minute.”
It took Jacob a moment to place the giant of a woman in a white mobcap who hovered at his elbow. He had been introduced on that first day, but the name escaped him now, though he remembered clearly the introduction. One did not forget a figure such as hers. She was as imposing, if not more, so than some of his finest fighters.
His imagination put a broadsword in her hand. No…a battle axe. Something fine and heavy to fight off invaders, only her rule lay within the kitchens, unless he missed his guess. Now what was her name? Something to do with a flower. “Mistress…Daffodil. Yes, of course. I was just finishing.”
Despite the house party still in full force, Jacob had taken his midday meal in the study again. Truth be told, he had been somewhat hopeful that the beguiling maid might find him here, with a report regarding the movements of his brother, as he’d requested. Of course, he’d only just asked her to perform the task, but he was accustomed to people jumping to when he spoke and getting done what he needed in a timely manner.
The woman’s face tightened, a hard look coming into her eyes. “Marigold, Your Grace.”
Jacob blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“My name, Your Grace. I am Mistress Marigold.”
Jacob stared at her, somewhat disconcerted. He could not remember the last time someone had the audacity to correct him. Had her expression not been so serious he might have laughed. “Yes. Of course. Mistress Marigold. What can I do for you?”
Mistress Marigold drew herself up. Jacob had to crane his neck just to see her face. “Your Grace, you may or may not be aware of my position within this household. I manage much of the staff below stairs, and keep a keen eye on the rest.”
“Er…right. Of course.” Jacob folded his napkin and placed it upon the tray that had been used to bring him his meal. “And a fine job you are doing of it! I have quite enjoyed my repast these past days.”
She gave him a look that took in the tray and his solitary placement for the noon meal, one eyebrow raising just enough to for him to feel the sudden urge to promise to eat henceforth in the dining room, if it would please her. Another disconcerting experience, as he could also not remember the last time he had been so thoroughly chastised by a single look.
She cleared her throat. “Normally, I would not bring so small a matter to your attention, but I was informed that you desired to be consulted in matters of the hiring and firing of staff. To that end, I would inform you that I am letting go a maid I have found to be lax in her duties.”
He blinked. “Exactly so—” he murmured, relaxing a little. “I trust your discretion in the matter. If that is all, you have done your duty. You might inform the staff that I found today’s meal to be exquisite, and that I will, in fact, be dining at table with the rest of my party tonight.” With that he bent his head over the open book in front of him, where he’d been examining the previous year’s numbers regarding cheeses and making notes on a piece of foolscap.
Mistress Marigold made no move to leave. “I have perhaps not been clear. There are certain circumstances in the matter of which you need to be made aware. This is quite unknown territory for me, as we have never had an incident of this kind within Ravencliff. I would have had the maid herself here to stand and face charges from you, but I feared she might somehow draw you in by her very appearance.”
“Her appearance? I fail to understand what you mean,” he said, laying aside his quill and sitting back to look up at woman with quite an astonished expression.
“Your Grace, she has a rather sympathetic mien, one that quite leaves you off guard. I would inform you that I have found this girl within this very chamber, indulging in the most suspicious of acts. Not only that, I have every reason to believe she was not alone in this room, for I found the window over yonder unlocked, and your belongings disturbed.”
Jacob sat up straight at that, feeling a cold twist in the pit of his stomach as he became suspicious just which maid this Mistress Tulip was talking about. “Which belongings?” he asked uneasily, casting his eyes over the room, trying to determine which items had been disturbed.
The woman reached into the folds of her apron and withdrew a long object which she placed upon his desk. “I found this on the floor near the window. I am afraid the lens is cracked.” Her broad face was resolute, her face pale as she spoke. “As I am responsible for the hiring of the girl, I will take it upon myself to have the lens repaired at my own expense. I will send the glass to Dublin myself this afternoon.”
“Nonsense. I should not have left it out so carelessly. It is little more than a memento of the sea with no real value,” he said, though in truth the damage pained him, for his first Captain had given him the spyglass in praise of an action aboard ship that had required a great deal of courage and no small measure of cunning. “What else?”
She shrugged, spreading her hands in silent question. “Truly, I do not know. She was behind the desk when I came in, seated upon the floor. I myself performed a thorough examination of the area once she had left, but could not see anything amiss.”
Jacob glanced around uneasily. Nothing seemed out of order. “What an odd place to be seated…” he murmured, as he bent to open and close each drawer of the desk. So far as he could tell, the contents were undisturbed.
“I was thinking perhaps the books on the bottom shelf,” she prompted him, with a nod in that general direction. “I had a maid come in who has cleaned this room regularly and she agrees that they do not seem to be in order any longer, though of course we have no way of knowing if you had perhaps rearranged them to your convenience.”
He turned to look, noting the row of leather spines turned outward. “There do not seem to be any missing,” he said, bending to draw one such volume out to look at it. It appeared to be a ledger from previous years, this particular row dating back to when his father first took over the estate.
“We had noted that as well,” Mistress Chrysanthemum said primly.
It had to be Alicia. There were few enough maids who knew their letters, much less had the ability to read. What the devil had she been looking for? “Where is the girl now?” he asked, imagining her already trudging back to the village in disgrace.
