A Murder in Time(32)

“What’s this room?”

Rose glanced back, frowning. “’Tis the linen room. Don’t you ’ave that in America, either?”

“Not where I live,” Kendra answered truthfully.

A moment later they entered the room that yesterday had been ground zero for Stark Productions. Today, it was exactly what it once had been: a dining room. There was still no fire in the enormous fireplace. The long sweep of table was covered by a crisp white tablecloth, which probably had been in the linen room only minutes before. Two maids, dressed in a similar style as Rose, were in the process of setting the table.

“And Oi ’eard, as bold as brass she was, calling ’is Grace Duke,” one of the maids was saying.

“Go on!” The other girl sounded deliciously horrified.

“’Tis true! And she ’as hair as short as a boy’s—” She broke off suddenly as she spotted Kendra and Rose in the doorway. A fiery blush swept up her cheeks. “Oh, Oi didn’t see yer there, Rose.” Her eyes met Kendra’s, and then flitted guiltily away.

“Good morning, Tess, Mildred,” Rose greeted easily. “This ’ere’s Kendra Donovan. She’s a lady’s maid ’ired for the party.”

“Mrs. Danbury’s looking for ’er.”

“Thank you, Tess.” Rose cast Kendra an apologetic look once they were out in the hall. “Never you mind them. Tess is an ’orrid gossip.”

Kendra suspected it wouldn’t only be Tess gossiping about her, but kept quiet as they walked down the hall to a short flight of steps. After descending, Rose stopped to knock at the first door on the right. Mrs. Danbury’s crisp voice invited them inside.

Again Kendra was reminded of her former college instructor. Dressed in similar attire to that which she’d worn the night before—white cap and black gown—Mrs. Danbury sat behind a large oak desk, its surface polished and everything on it arranged in such a precise way that it made more of a statement about the housekeeper than anything else in the small, tidy office. They stood waiting while she ignored them as she carefully dipped a quill pen into an inkstand, scribbling on a thick sheet of paper. Silence pooled in the room, broken only by the scratching of nib against parchment paper, and the slow, steady tick of the pendulum clock in the corner of the room.

Kendra found herself holding her breath. Mrs. Danbury finally laid the pen down in a wood stand. Still she didn’t look at them. Rather, she picked up a small glass vial, tipping it and lightly sprinkling the parchment with sand, before blowing the grains away.

Ritual done, she lifted the sheet of paper to Rose. “Please give this to Monsieur Anton, Rose. We have a change in the dinner menu.”

Rose went pale. “Ooh, ’e’s not gonna like that one bit, ma’am.”

“No, he’s not,” Mrs. Danbury conceded. “The chef is temperamental and difficult. One must expect such a disposition from the French, Rose. Nevertheless, Lady Atwood herself made these particular changes. Monsieur Anton must accommodate the countess’ wishes, regardless of his own personal desires.”

Rose did not look any happier with that announcement, but appeared resigned. “Aye, ma’am.”

Mrs. Danbury nodded. “Thank you, Rose. You may go—close the door behind you.”

Rose exchanged one quick look with Kendra before bobbing a curtsy, and, list in hand, leaving the room. Mrs. Danbury waited until the door snicked shut before turning those cool, appraising gray eyes on Kendra.

“Well, Miss Donovan . . . you’ve certainly put me in an awkward position. His Grace is under the impression that you are at Aldridge Castle as a lady’s maid. Of course, we have several lady’s maids currently under our roof, but most arrived with a Lady. Did you arrive with a Lady, Miss Donovan?”

Even though her heart had begun thudding, Kendra looked the woman in the eye and managed to say calmly enough, “No . . . ma’am.”

“I could attribute your presence here as being part of the temporary help,” she went on. “As you may know, several lady’s maids were hired to accommodate our guests who were not fortunate enough to bring their own. However, as I was the one who hired the temporary lady’s maids, this leaves me baffled, Miss Donovan. I do not know you. I did not hire you. If you did not arrive with a Lady, and I did not hire you to be a lady’s maid, how did you come to Aldridge Castle? It fairly boggles the mind.”

“You can say that again.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t have an answer for you, Mrs. Danbury.”

“Indeed.” The housekeeper’s lips tightened. “And yet you had an answer for His Grace last night. You insisted that you were hired as a lady’s maid.”

“I was hired as a lady’s maid.”

The expression in Mrs. Danbury’s gray eyes turned even more glacial. “That is not possible, Miss Donovan. As I have stated, Mr. Kimble gave me the responsibility to hire the temporary female staff. And I did not hire any Americans. I did not hire you.”

“I was hired by another woman.”

“No other woman has that authority! What is her name—this woman who hired you?”

Kendra thought of the woman from Stark Productions. “Mrs. Peters.”

“There is no Mrs. Peters at Aldridge Castle.”