Mortal Arts (A Lady Darby Mystery)

“Thank you,” I said and followed the direction of her pointing finger.

 

As I drew closer, I could hear the maids as well, giggling about something. Hesitant to give them as much of a scare as I’d given the kitchen maids, I reached up and rapped on the open door. The laughter straggled to a stop as I peered around the corner into the chamber. The maids stiffened in surprise as they realized who I was.

 

“M’lady,” Lucy gasped and rushed forward, smelling like starch. “Were ye callin’ me? I dinna hear ye ring.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“Oh, was I s’posed to be waitin’ for ye in your rooms?”

 

“No, Lucy.” I grabbed hold of the frazzled girl’s shoulders. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

 

Her face was still crinkled in worry. “Then why are ye doon here lookin’ for me?”

 

I shook my head impatiently. “I’ll explain later. I need to know everything you learned from Donovan. Was there anything he told you about himself?”

 

Her eyebrows lifted toward her hairline.

 

“Lucy, it’s important,” I added when she didn’t speak right away. “He must have told you something.”

 

“Well,” she finally murmured. I didn’t know if her dithering was due to a misguided loyalty she still felt for Donovan or because of my frantic demeanor. “He told me where he worked afore, but ye already ken that. And that he grew up in a small village near Kirkcudbright.”

 

“Twynholm,” the maid across the room stitching the hem of a gown muttered, making us all glance over at her. Her cheeks reddened as if she hadn’t meant for us to hear her. “Me mam came from the area,” she explained. From her broad Cumbrian accent, I pegged her as either Laura or Miss Remmington’s maid, likely Miss Remmington’s.

 

I turned back to Lucy, who was studying the other maid in unhappy suspicion, and released her shoulders.

 

“What about the people here? The Dalmays or the other servants. Did he talk about them?”

 

“Sometimes,” she answered guardedly, flicking another glance at the other maids.

 

“Did he talk about Lord Dalmay?”

 

“Nay.” Then she ventured to ask a question of her own. “Did that constable really come and try to arrest his lordship?”

 

I could see the other maids were interested in this answer as well, for they leaned forward. “He tried,” I replied, unwilling to gossip about William. “What about Miss Wallace or anyone from Cramond? Did he mention any of them?”

 

Her eyes widened. “Nay.”

 

I swallowed a sigh of frustration. What on earth had she and Donovan talked about? Surely they hadn’t discussed me the entire time. “Did you notice anything suspicious? Was there any topic he seemed to avoid?”

 

“Why are ye askin’ me this?” Her gaze searched mine for what I wasn’t saying. “Has he done somethin’ wrong?”

 

I hesitated to disclose such a detail, but I decided it would be best to destroy any romantic notions she still held about the man while I still had a chance of extracting useful information from her. “We found proof that he’s been harming Lord Dalmay.”

 

Lucy pressed her hands over her mouth.

 

“And we suspect he might be involved in Miss Wallace’s death.”

 

“How?” she stammered.

 

“I’m not going to reveal that to you. But I need to know about his suspicious behavior.”

 

Her eyes grew bright and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I dinna see anythin’ suspicious.”

 

“I did,” the same maid who had spoken up earlier announced. A slightly older maid seated in a chair nearby, polishing a brooch, hissed her name, but she lifted her chin and ignored her. “I saw somethin’ suspicious.”

 

“And you are?”

 

She quickly bobbed a curtsy. “Irene, m’lady. I’m Miss Remmington’s maid,” she told me, confirming what I had guessed.

 

“What did you see?”

 

“I saw Donovan sneak oot o’ the house one evenin’ and take the trail doon to’ard the ole castle, and I followed ’im.” She flushed, as if realizing what such an admission might say about her, and lifted her nose farther in the air to add, “I caught him flirtin’ wi’ Nelly, one o’ the kitchen maids, early in the day, an’ I thought it’d be jus’ loike her to meet ’im in a place loike that. But when I got to the castle, he weren’t wi’ Nelly, but talkin’ to some bloke.”

 

My heart began to beat faster. “What did the man he was speaking to look like?”

 

“Tall, brawny. I didn’t get a good look at ’im.”

 

“Did you ever ask him about it?”

 

“Didn’t have to. He caught me watchin’ and threatened to tell Lord Keswick and have me sacked.”

 

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