A Murder in Time(125)

“The lass seems ter have vanished.”

The lass. The girl. The maid.

“She has a name,” Kendra snapped, turning on the Bow Street Runner. Her anger was irrational, she knew, but it filled her like helium expanding a balloon. “She has an identity. She’s not Jane Doe. Rose. Her name is Rose. She wants to be a lady’s maid someday. She . . . she . . .” Her breath hitched. Appalled, Kendra could feel hot tears surge into her throat. She pressed her face into her hands, as taken by surprise by the unexpected emotion as the men staring at her.

Alec made a low sound, and moved forward. Kendra stiffened for just a second when he took her into his arms, but didn’t move away, trembling so hard she might shatter.

“We know,” he murmured. “We shall find her, I promise you.”

But will she be alive? Kendra wanted to ask. But she doubted if she’d be able to formulate a sentence at the moment, and that shook her even more. She wasn’t the kind of person who lost control like this.

That reminder had her straightening, pulling away, already ashamed at her weakness—though she missed Alec’s warmth. Without it, her body temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.

“I still need to interview Thomas. He’s the last person to have seen Rose . . .” Alive. The word was on the tip of her tongue. “Before she disappeared,” she said.

“Thomas ain’t around,” Sam told her. “He’s helping with the search. He said that the lass . . . that Rose gave him some bread and cheese when he came ter the kitchen earlier.”

“You spoke to him?”

“Aye. He didn’t see anything.”

“I still want to interview him.”

“Not tonight,” Aldridge said firmly. “I have no intention of letting you freeze to death out here in the stable yard, Miss Donovan.”

“Mr. Kelly and I will continue the search,” Alec said.

Aldridge nodded, “Very good. Come along, Miss Donovan. We must find Rebecca.”

As Alec and Sam melted back into the crowd, Aldridge took Kendra’s elbow, escorting her down the path that led to the kitchens.

For once Kendra appreciated the room’s sweltering temperature. She could feel her frozen muscles and tendons warming, loosening. The room was ablaze with light. Every candle, from the wall sconces to the chandeliers, was burning, and there was a strong scent of tea and coffee and baking bread in the air. The dinner had been served, Kendra realized, and at this hour, the staff would normally be in the process of cleaning up. But tonight, the dirty dishes and platters had been left stacked on the counters, pushed out of the way. Like the stable yard, the kitchens were teeming with activity. An informal assembly line had been formed, where the women made sandwiches and served hot beverages to the men who’d recently returned from the search.

Kendra wondered where Lady Atwood had taken her guests. Probably to one of the drawing rooms, laughing and drinking, oblivious to the fact that a young girl, a girl responsible for keeping their rooms clean, who helped prepare the food they ate, was at this moment suffering at the hands of a madman.

The thought made her angry, but she forced herself to put it aside. Anger was a distraction she couldn’t afford.

“Lady Rebecca!” Aldridge exclaimed. Surprised, Kendra glanced at one of the workstations where Rebecca, wearing an apron, was slicing slabs of ham off the bone.

“Duke.” Rebecca handed the knife to the maid standing next to her, and came around the counter, wiping her hands on the apron. Her gaze was anxious. “Have you learned anything new?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could not attend dinner and listen to everyone prattle on about their nonsensical lives! And I would go mad if I sat alone and waited for you. At least here, I could be of assistance. Have you learned anything?”

“No,” Kendra answered.

The cornflower blue eyes were earnest as she reached over and placed a warm hand on Kendra’s arm. “We must not give up hope, Miss Donovan.”

Kendra wondered how often she’d hear that.

“Let’s go to the study.” Aldridge turned to the butler, who was hovering nearby. “Harding, please send up pots of tea and coffee.”

“At once, sir.”

Aldridge hesitated, then turned to address the room, which fell silent. “We are doing everything in our power to find Rose. If anyone should remember anything, any detail, regardless of how small, do not hesitate to tell me or Miss Donovan. Is that understood?”

There was a general murmuring of agreement. Rebecca took off the apron, and they moved out into the hallway. Kendra thought she heard the faint strains of the pianoforte, the soft tinkle of laughter.

In the study, embers glowed demonic red in the fireplace grate, the only light in the dark room. Normally, a footman would’ve been on hand to light the sconces and candles, and get the fire going again. But all available footmen had volunteered for the search.

Aldridge dropped down to one knee to put more logs into the grate and coax the fire back to life. Rebecca and Kendra took over the task of lighting candles. Afterward, Aldridge poured three glasses of brandy. “The tea and coffee will allow us a clear head, but this ought to take the chill away.”

Rebecca accepted a glass and sat down. “Tell me what transpired on your calls.”

As the Duke shared their journey, Kendra peeled off her spencer. She picked up a piece of slate. On the board, she began to create a time line.