Morland inclined his head. “Thank you, sir.”
Kendra held her breath as the Duke’s gaze came to rest on her. “You shall, of course, join us, Miss Donovan.”
Relief loosened the knots in her stomach. “Thank you, sir.” She hesitated. “Well, I . . . should get back to my duties.”
“Until half past five then.” Aldridge smiled.
Although she could feel their eyes drilling holes into her shoulder blades as she crossed the hall, Kendra resisted looking back, slipping through one of the doors that, she hoped, would take her back to the kitchens.
Alec waited until she was gone before raising a brow at his uncle. “And what duties are those? Last evening she said she was a lady’s maid. Today, she clearly is not.”
Aldridge smiled. “Last evening you thought she was a thief.”
Morland seemed bemused by their conversation. “The woman is a thief?”
“Most certainly not.”
Alec’s mouth tightened. “You cannot be certain, Duke. I also said she was a liar, most certainly a liar. Do you believe her about the girl?”
The Duke’s smile faded, and his gaze moved to the trophies decorating the wall. The girl’s hair had been cut. Someone had bitten her, for heaven’s sake.
“I don’t know what to believe, my boy, but, for now, we should keep an open mind.”
Kendra had never felt more like a freak than she did as she made her way back to the kitchens. She knew she was under surveillance, recognized the furtive looks cast in her direction. A few servants even stopped their work to openly stare as she passed.
A headache began brewing at the base of her skull. It didn’t help that the kitchens were now boiling hot and even noisier than before, or that here, too, people paused in their work and stared until Monsieur Anton, noticing, began to yell at them in French.
“Oh, miss!” Rose ran toward her, and grabbed both her hands. “Wot ’appened? We ’eard there was a murder!”
Another maid came forward. “Aye—and the fiend is on the loose!” That declaration caused several gasps of fright to ripple through the crowd of young maids gathering around Kendra.
“We’ll be murdered in our beds, we will!”
“Nonsense.” Cook came over to disperse the knot of young maids. “Everyone back ter work. Now! Dora, those chestnuts won’t blanch themselves!”
“But Cook—”
“Go on with ye!” She made a shooing gesture and then turned back to eye Kendra. “Well, miss, ye’ve caused quite a stir. Word’s goin’ ’round on how ye had all these things to say about the dead lass. On how she’d been murdered. Ye’re not touched, are ye?”
“Touched? Oh. Crazy. I’ve been wondering that myself lately.” She attempted a smile that fell short of its mark, and disappeared altogether when Mrs. Danbury’s voice came from behind her.
“Miss Donovan. A word, please.”
She turned in time to see the black flutter of the housekeeper’s skirt disappear around the corner. Some of her dismay must have shown on her face, because Cook patted her shoulder sympathetically. “Best go on, Kendra. Mrs. Danbury’s a good woman, but ye’ve been a bit of a surprise to her. An’ she don’t like surprises.”
“I’ve discovered I’m not too keen on them myself.” Anxiety made her stomach churn as she walked the now familiar path to the housekeeper’s office.
“Sit down, Miss Donovan.”
“I’m sorry—” she began, hoping to stave off another lecture, but the housekeeper whipped up a hand for silence.
“Don’t, Miss Donovan . . . don’t. Your apology strikes me as false, since you are well aware that your behavior is highly irregular. In point of fact, it is outrageous.” She seemed to be warming to her topic. The gray eyes, which often seemed like chips of ice, flashed with heat. “I have never been so . . . so mortified. Mr. Kimble may be responsible for distributing your wages, but you are under my authority. Your conduct reflects upon me.”
Kendra pressed her clammy palms together. This scene was familiar. Too familiar. How often in her childhood had she stood in her father’s study much this same way, while he criticized that some test or performance hadn’t been up to par?
We expected better of you, Kendra . . .
Are you deliberately trying to embarrass your mother and me?
“Lady Atwood is furious with this situation,” Mrs. Danbury continued. “Her house parties are renowned by the ton, Miss Donovan. Renowned. To find that girl, to say she was killed—”
“She was killed.” Kendra clenched her hands. “And I didn’t find her. I didn’t kill her.”