Murphy's Law (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #1)

"Which room is it?"

"First floor, at the far end of the hall, past the master's study. Go on, run. She hates to be kept waiting."

I ran up the back stairs, past the master's study and tapped on the far door before entering. An exquisitely lovely young woman, with blond curls piled on a doll-like face, was reclining on a pink silk chaise lounge before the fire. I couldn't have been more surprised. The alderman was a middle-aged man. His whiskers were already graying at the sides. If this was his wife, then she was a good twenty years younger, and very lovely. She was reading a letter and didn't look up as I came in.

I waited a few moments and then cleared my throat. "You rang, madam?" I asked.

She glanced up, then went back to the letter. "When I am ready to talk to you, I will," she said, her voice matching the coldness of her expression. Then she looked up again. "You're new."

"Yes, madam." I hoped my own expression looked suitably chastened.

"And your name is?"

"Molly, madam."

"In which case, Molly, the first thing you should learn is that servants are here to wait on their masters. When I am ready to give you an order, I will do so. Is that clear?"

"Yes, madam, only I thought that perhaps you hadn't heard me come in. I just wanted you to know I was there."

Her delicate cheeks flushed. "And you do not answer back. Servants in this house speak when they are spoken to."

I hung my head, not sure whether saying I was sorry might constitute speaking out of turn again, and tried to look like a mortified parlor maid.

"It's all right. I'll overlook it this once, seeing that you're new and haven't had a chance to be properly instructed yet." She gave me an enchanting smile. "Please tell cook that the dressmaker will be arriving at four for a final fitting for tonight's dress. We will have tea and suitable cakes in my dressing room at four fifteen."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I hope you'll be happy with us, Molly. You may bring the tray up to my dressing room

at four fifteen. Make sure you don't spill anything."

I was getting good at curtsys. Humility was going to take a little longer.

Mrs. O'Leary sniffed when I passed on the instructions. "Tea and cakes. As if I haven't got enough to do with cooking seven courses for sixteen. If she doesn't watch what she eats she'll lose that lovely figure and then the master will lose interest. It wasn't for her brains he married her."

"Have they been married long?"

She leaned toward me confidentially. "Only a year. His former wife died suddenly and he married this flibbertigibbet before the poor woman was cold in her grave. She was one of the original Floradora Six."

I had heard enough about the Plumbridge Nine, but the Floradora Six? She saw the surprised look on my face. "You know, the Broadway show, "Floradora." They say all the girls in that original sextet married millionaires. We're in the wrong job, girl. But then I never did have Mrs. McCormack's figure, even when I was young." She chuckled, ran her hands over her ample stomach, and went to check something in the oven.

I had even more to think about. If the alderman was the monster I thought him to be, then maybe his wife's sudden death was no accident, either.

At four fifteen on the dot I carried the mistress's tray upstairs to her dressing room and I made sure I knocked. Loudly. Her personal maid took the tray from me at the door. "Zay are busy and do not wish to be interrupted," she said in a very French accent. Even so I managed to catch a glimpse of the most gorgeous burgundy velvet gown that clung to her figure like a second skin. As the door was closed behind me I heard her say, "And I think the rubies tonight, don't you, Francine?"

Back in the kitchen, tea had been laid on the table for us. Loaves of bread, slabs of butter, pots of jam and honey, and two different cakes. Was it only yesterday that I had wondered whether I would die of starvation? Now I was worried about whether the tight waist of my uniform dress would stand yet another meal.

Mr. Holmes and Mrs. Brennan joined us

for tea.

"Final instructions, everybody," Mr.