Page 37 of Never a Duchess
“She was embarrassed to have disturbed his lordship. She seemed nervous and jittery, and was quite eager to leave. I found it odd considering she performs in front of an audience.”
Interesting. “How long was she here?”
“Half an hour, Your Grace.”
“And do ye recall anything else that might be seen as suspicious behaviour that night?”Other than a duke sneaking up the servants’ staircase, he added silently.
Hastings’ pale cheeks flushed. “Your Grace, if I might be so bold, half thetonare conducting clandestine affairs. There would be too many to mention.”
Callan pictured the bare-arsed Lord Forrester servicing his mistress in the dark corridor. “Did ye see anything out of the ordinary?”
“Perhaps if I mention a few names, you might tell me if they were on the guest list?” Miss Ware interjected. “Mrs Gregory. Lady Sheridan. Sir Gerald Hudspith. Major Rowlands.”
Again, it took an age for Hastings to search the dark, dusty recesses of his memory. “From my recollection, all those named were in attendance. There was an argument between Major Rowlands and one of the servants, Anne. She was reprimanded for her rudeness, but Lady Kinver refused to dismiss the girl.”
“Might we speak to Anne next?”
“She packed her meagre belongings and left that night, miss.”
Miss Ware gasped. “What is her surname?”
“Grimes, miss. She came from the Servants’ Registry on Goswell Street and had been with us for two weeks. I believe she worked in the major’s household for a time.”
“What was the argument about?” Suspecting the major had lecherous intentions, Callan presumed to know the answer.
“The girl refused to say. Lady Kinver said she would address the matter on her return from the Cotswolds, but Anne was gone before the cockcrow.”
How odd!
Perhaps she was running from Major Rowlands.
Or was Anne the woman abducted from the garden?
“I’m inclined to believe the girl is a thief, and that was the cause of the argument.” Hastings sounded somewhat annoyed with himself for hiring a criminal. “We’ve been unable to locate the porcelain figurine presented as a wedding gift.”
Miss Ware looked at Callan and frowned. “Madame Delafont might have had another reason to call that night. Perhaps she took the figurine with her when she left.”
“Aye, but the Kinvers would know it was missing,” Callan grumbled. They were supposed to find clues, not add to the list of unanswered questions. He turned his attention to the butler. “Was anything else taken, money, jewels?”
“Not that we can tell.”
They sat silently debating the information before Miss Ware said, “Who did you wish to question next, Your Grace?”
“Tompkins. I believe that’s the name of the footman in charge of the men’s retiring room that evening.”
The servant entered the second Hastings left, giving Callan no time to play the lustful rake with Miss Ware.
Standing six feet tall and with handsome looks, Tompkins probably had many a wife and widow offering to pay for his services. They asked him the same questions about Madame Delafont and Anne Grimes, though he merely corroborated Hastings’ story.
“Did you hear any retiring room gossip?” Miss Ware asked.
“Nothing suitable for a lady’s ears, miss.” Tompkins’ gaze slipped over Miss Ware’s body when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Get yer beady eyes off her, Callan growled silently.
“I’m not easily embarrassed,” she said, though Callan had lost count of the times she had blushed in his company.
Tompkins looked at Callan. “Perhaps I might tell His Grace.”
