A Murder in Time(121)

The kitchen was its normal iron-melting temperature, but Kendra felt ice-cold as she and Alec stood in front of more than a dozen servants. Her head was throbbing. The general cacophony of the kitchens didn’t help, as the remaining staff scurried back and forth in a mad dash to prepare the evening’s dinner.

Cook was among the servants, her arms around Molly, who was pressing her face into her apron to stifle her gut-wrenching sobs. “Hush now,” she whispered, but her anxious gaze was fixed on Kendra. “Mayhap the lass ran off, like Jenny.”

“Has Rose ever run off before? Disappeared for a while before?”

“Nay. Nay!” Molly lifted swollen eyes to Kendra. “The monster’s got ’er!”

“W’ot we goin’ ter do?” Another maid began to weep.

Kendra’s head throbbed harder. Everyone was staring at her like she had the power to save Rose. And all she could do was offer them basic police procedure.

She drew in a breath, tried to steady her heartbeat and stave off the horror. “Okay, we need to establish a time line.” She lifted the pad of paper and pencil she’d procured from the Duke’s study. “When was the last time you saw Rose?”

That unleashed a flood of comments. “One at a time,” she ordered, and pointed the pencil at a maid named Tess. “You. When did you see Rose last?”

“Oi saw ’er this morning, ’elpin’ with the polishing upstairs.”

“What time?”

“After nine. Mebbe ’alf past.”

A freckle-faced maid added, “Oi saw ’er around ten. She was fetchin’ vegetables from the garden.”

“She was back in the kitchens after that. Oi know, cause Oi saw ’er with the ’ermit.”

“The hermit? Thomas was here?”

“Aye. ’E came fer some bread an’ cheese.”

“What time was that?”

The girl—Mildred, Kendra remembered—frowned. “’Twas before ’er Ladyship’s nuncheon. Eleven, Oi think. Mebbe ’alf past.”

“S-she was s-supposed ter ’elp me with the l-linens upstairs.” Molly wiped at the tears running down her face. “But she never came up. Oi was angry at ’er. Oi thought mebbe she’d snuck off.”

Kendra heard the guilt in the tweeny’s voice, but there was nothing she could do about it now. “What time was this, Molly?”

“Oi dunno. One. Mebbe a little later. Oi don’t remember!”

“It’s all right. You’re doing fine.”

“’Ow is this gonna ’elp us find the lass?” demanded one of the footmen. “We don’t need to know where she was this mornin’—we need to know where she is now!”

Alec stepped forward. “We are organizing a search party of the grounds, outbuildings, woods.” His voice was firm as he looked at the servants. “Let’s not jump to false conclusions. The girl may have fallen and hurt herself. There may be a rational explanation as to why she is now missing that has nothing to do with the other unpleasantness.”

“’Oi’d like ter volunteer, sir,” a chubby-faced footman offered.

“Aye. Me, too—”

Several other footmen crowded around, offering their help.

“Que faites-vous? Au boulot!” Monsieur Anton’s voice rose above the chorus of volunteers. The little man pushed his way through the knot of footmen. He held a bunch of carrots that he’d brought in from the garden himself. Now he shook them beneath several footmen’s noses, spraying dirt. “Vite! Vite!”

Cook surged forward until she was toe-to-toe with the Frenchman. “Go tend ter ye ducks yerself, ye blasted Frenchie! Can’t ye see we’re busy here?!”

“Comment osez-vous?! J’essaie de créer mon chef-d’oeuvre—”

“Why don’t ye go back ter yer froggy—”

“Je ne peux travailler avec si peu d’égard! Je suis un artiste! Je—”

Kendra’s head was ready to explode. “?a suffit ! Taisez-vous!” she shouted. “Cher Dieu, une femme est disparue! Elle peut être morte! Ayez un peu de compassion!”

Monsieur Anton swung around, gaping at her. “Vous parlez très bien fran?ais!”

She was aware everyone was staring at her with the same shocked expression. She massaged her aching temples. “Goddamnit. I don’t have time for this.”

Alec put his hand on her shoulder. Kendra wasn’t sure if it was meant to comfort or restrain.

It was obvious that Monsieur Anton hadn’t recognized Alec until that moment. His dark eyes rounded and he blanched. “Pardonnez-moi, Monseigneur! Je ne vous ai pas vu!”

“Je comprends, Monsieur Anton. Ne vous inquiétez pas.” In fluent French, Alec dismissed the apology and turned back to the footmen, ordering them to gather the volunteers and meet him in the stable yard.

Alec glanced at Kendra. “You continue to surprise, Miss Donovan.”

Kendra said nothing. Alec shook his head, then followed the departing footmen out the back door. Several maids surged forward.

“W’ot can we do ter ’elp, miss?” one of them asked Kendra.

“Miss Donovan!” Mrs. Danbury’s voice sliced across the noise of the kitchen. “Please come here.”