Page 53 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
“Really? Is that so? Oh, how terrible!” she exclaimed, and Daisy nodded.
“One of the footmen saw him—all dressed in black. There’s a window been forced in the scullery. Nothing’s been stolen, thank goodness,” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s probably just an opportunist. I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often—a tramp or a vagabond of some sort,” she said, and Daisy nodded.
“I’m sure that’s right, Miss Stuart. It’s worrying though, isn’t it? I won’t sleep soundly in my bed tonight,” she said, shaking her head as she set down the tray of tea things.
“Try not to let it upset you,” Lavinia replied.
But despite telling the maid as much, Lavinia herself had felt frightened, and she no longer felt any desire to walk along through the woods to the churchyard to visit Gwendolene’s grave. Instead, having drank her tea, she washed and dressed, before making her way downstairs and finding her mother and Horatia in the dining room.
“A thief in the night, oh… it’s terrible,” Lavinia’s mother was saying, and the dowager shook her head and tutted.
“We’ve had it before—a disgruntled servant we dismissed, and then children from the village. Nothing was taken, and I’ve instructed Hargreaves to secure all the windows on the ground floor of the house,” she said.
“Oh, but it’s the thought of it—of someone being in here. I shan’t sleep soundly tonight—I’ll lock my door from the inside,” Lavinia’s mother said, and the dowager nodded.
“I think we all will. It hasn’t scared you too much, has it, Lavinia?” she asked, and Lavinia shook her head.
“No…” she said, forcing a smile to her face.
“Oh, good. Like I say, it’s just one of those things; things happen in old houses, and out here in the middle of nowhere… well, there’s nothing to worry about,” she said.
Lavinia felt a shiver run through her, recalling the figure dressed in black. She did not think it was a coincidence—a disgruntled servant, children, even. There was a connection to Gwendolene, and Lavinia feared the doctor’s visit to Sarum Lacy House had brought with it the suspicion of whoever was responsible for the murder.
“Is the baron joining us?” Lavinia asked, but the dowager shook her head.
“I doubt it. He was downstairs with Hargreaves. You know what he’s like, he won’t let a matter like this rest. He’s checking all the windows,” she replied, and Lavinia nodded.
She ate a hurried breakfast of toast and marmalade, refusing a second cup of coffee and excusing herself before either her mother or the dowager had helped themselves from the hot tureens.
“Where are you rushing off to, Lavinia?” her mother asked, but Lavinia shook her head.
“Oh… there’s a book I want to look for in the library,” she said, and the dowager looked up at her and smiled.
“I’ll help you, if you like. I’m nearly finished,” she said, but Lavinia was already half-way out of the door.
“No… thank you, it’s quite all right. Archie… His Lordship… promised to help me. I’ll go and find him now,” she replied, and before the baron’s mother could protest, she was gone.
On the stairs down to the kitchen, she met Daisy, and the maid informed her the baron and Mr. Hargreaves were in the scullery.
“That’s where he got in… broken pots everywhere. It must’ve made such a racket, but no one heard anything, or so they say,” she said, tutting as she carried on up the stairs.
The servant’s hall was awash with chatter about the events of the previous evening, as she passed the open door, she heard one of the footmen speculating as to the culprit.
“There was a man at the inn just the other night asking about the house. I didn’t think anything of it, but he was very interested in the domestic arrangements. Said he was looking for a job. It might’ve been him,” he was saying.
Lavinia pondered these words, curious as to whoever had been asking for details of Sarum Lacy House atThe Baron’s Head. But the murderer surely knew the house well—well enough to slip poison into Gwendolene’s dental powder…
“Bars, I want bars putting up at the window—and all the others. We’ve been too complacent over the security of the house,” Archie was saying, when Lavinia came to the door of the scullery.
The window had been smashed, and it was just wide enough for a man of slight build to slip through. The scullery was in disarray—broken pots, smashed glass—and the baron and the butler stood amid the detritus, looking up as Lavinia entered the room.
“I’m sure it can all be arranged, My Lord,” Hargreaves replied.
“See to it, Hargreaves, and be vigilant over locking up. I don’t want a repeat of this tonight,” Archie said, shaking his head, as Lavinia stepped forward.
“A thief in the night?” she said, and Archie nodded.
