Page 45 of Grave Expectations
"Stop it, you lump o' lard." Gus grinned, however, and allowed Seth to inspect the wound at his shoulder.
Cook chuckled and retrieved two bowls from the cupboard. I sidled closer to the stove and its delicious heat. "Is Lincoln here?"
"He's out looking for you." Seth shook his head and sighed. "He's been in and out most of the day, hoping you'd show up again here. I'm sure he'll walk in that door soon."
A set of footsteps echoed along the corridor, but it was only Doyle. "Miss Holloway, Mr. Gus! I'm so glad to see you both again."
"Thank you, Doyle. Are you all right?"
He nodded. "Cook and I were drugged with some awful tea, but there appear to be no lingering effects."
Cook handed me a bowl. "Aside from going deaf when Fitzroy shouted at us, wanting to know what happened and getting mad when we couldn't give answers."
I drew in a deep breath as he ladled broth into my bowl. "Where is he looking?"
"That's the problem, he didn't know where to start," Seth said. "The Mrs. Webb employed by the Powell's is not the same as the housekeeper we knew as Mrs. Webb. No surprise there."
"She tricked us."
"Don't take it to heart." He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. "So who was she really, and why did she take you?"
"And how did you get away?" Doyle chimed in.
Gus and I briefly filled them in on some of the particulars, leaving out all the supernatural elements so as not to overwhelm Doyle. Cook swore several times, as did Seth, to a lesser extent, but Doyle was the perfect butler and merely made sour faces and horrified little gasps.
"Diabolical," he muttered.
"It is," I said. "And if this sort of thing concerns you, Doyle, then I'm afraid we'll have to let you go. Dangerous incidents happen with alarming frequency around here."
"Thank you for your frankness. I'll keep that in mind." It was not, I noticed, an answer one way or another.
I hadn't forgotten that he was under suspicion either. Mrs. Drinkwater had been helped by someone who knew we needed a housekeeper. Doyle might seem innocent and concerned, but I hadn't ruled him out.
Lincoln still hadn't returned by the time I finished my soup, so after overseeing the cleaning and dressing of Gus's wound, I retired to my rooms to freshen up. A knock at my door several minutes later sent my heart tripping over itself.
It was only Seth. "Don't look so disappointed," he said. "May I come in?"
"Do you want to know what really happened, now that we're alone?"
"Gus already told me."
"You've grown quite serious," I said. "What's wrong?"
"The committee came shortly after we discovered your disappearance."
I screwed up my nose. "Why?"
"Fitzroy sent messages to each of them demanding to know every last detail about the two supernatural deaths."
"He assumed my abduction was related to the murders?"
"He did. And in his correspondence, he mentioned your abduction, and demanded they come to Lichfield immediately for questioning."
"Were they helpful?"
"They gave no further information, and then proceeded to tell him that they were right and he was wrong, and you should be sent away."
I sat down on an armchair near the fire with a resigned sigh. "I expect that didn't go down too well."
