Page 30 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford
To his surprise, Cartwright gave a giddy laugh of glee, and he shook his head.
“Lord Albermay insisted that the surgeon tell the viscountess that his health was perfect and that he was expected to live many a year,” the valet chuckled, “I think he did not want his young wife to think that she would soon be free to cavort with one of her many lovers.”
“Really, Mr Cartwright,” Rob scolded the man, “I cannot sit here and listen to you malign Lady Albermay’s character in such a manner.”
The valet scowled in annoyance at this and opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the arrival of Flora, bearing a tray of tea.
“Where shall I set this down, Mr Cartwright?” she asked.
“I don’t think I really feel much like tea now,” the elderly man huffed, casting a pained glance Rob’s way.
“If that is the case, then I shall impose my company on you no longer, Mr Cartwright,” Rob said, rising to a stand, “My thanks for your time.”
Rob offered the man a curt bow and made for the door. As he walked, his arm brushed against the soft lump in his pocket, and he recalled his initial reason for visiting with the curmudgeonly valet. He fished the rag doll from his pocket and turned back toward the seated valet.
“This was found with Lord Albermay’s body,” Rob said, thrusting the doll at the old man, “I wished to return it to you - I assume it is a sentimental object, dear to our late friend.”
To his surprise, Mr Cartwright scowled in disgust at the sight of the worn-looking doll.
“I have never seen that object in my life,” Mr Cartwright sniffed, “You do Lord Albermay a great insult to suggest that he slept with such a ragged item in his bed. Good day, my lord.”
Rob frowned and thrust the offending item back into his pocket; if the doll did not belong to Lord Albermay, where had it come from?
“Shall I remove the tray?” Flora asked, glancing between both men with confusion. The poor maid’s arms were near-wobbling from the strain of carrying such a heavy burden for so long.
“Yes, return it to the kitchen, please, Flora,” Rob instructed, smiling to thank the young woman. He walked over to hold the door open for her, and once she had departed, he turned to Mr Cartwright and offered him a curt goodbye.
Well, Rob thought to himself as he traced his steps back to the main wing of the house. It was no wonder Mr Cartwright had remained in Lord Albermay’s service for so long—he was just as odious a creature as the late viscount had been.
In his anger, Rob was inclined to think the interview a failure, but as he put more space between himself and the valet, his annoyance dissipated, and he could recall their conversation with a clearer mind.
The news of Lord Albermay’s illness was quite a turn-up for the books, even if it did somewhat exonerate everyone’s preferred suspect.
Rob smiled to himself, as he realised that he had much to share with Eudora, though his smile faltered a little as he wondered if she would be on speaking terms with him again by dinner time…
CHAPTER NINE
EUDORA HAD ALWAYSbelieved that she possessed a keen sense of justice—a sense molded by the many injustices—both real and imagined—that she had suffered at the hands of her sisters over the years.
However, that morning at breakfast, as she studiously avoided Lord Delaney’s eye and tried to forget the conversation she had heard the night before, she wondered just how dedicated she was to the cause.
Lord Albermay had not been a particularly nice man, Eudora reasoned to herself as she spooned her porridge into her mouth, while Lady Albermay was all that was nice and kind and…
...And possibly a murderess.
Eudora dropped her spoon to the table, unable to even feign an interest in her breakfast. She just did not want to believe that Lady Albermay was guilty of murdering her husband; it was too unpleasant an idea even to contemplate. She would much rather that the guilty party was Lord Albermay’s drunken son or the elderly Lord Percival, neither of whom she was particularly fond of. It galled Eudora that she had wished for a murder to solve, only to find that the culprit might be one of her friends.
As Eudora pushed back her chair to leave the table, she felt Lord Delaney’s eyes upon her, but her head refused to turn his way. She did not wish to speak to him at that moment, for she needed a little more time to contemplate what - if anything - she would share with him of the conversation she had overheard.
Eudora scurried out of the dining room, her eyes firmly on the floor to avoid catching Lord Delaney’s gaze. Once out in the hallway, she ducked down a nearby corridor which she knew led to the late Lord Crabb’s library.
As she walked, a memory of the previous night flashed before her eyes, and she felt her cheeks burn pink. What a silly little girl she was, to have expected Lord Delaney to kiss her. Her Mama and her sisters shared some of the blame for her foolishness, having filled her head with the idea that the baron was besotted with her.
Eudora reached the door of the old library and pushed it open, expecting to find the room empty. To her surprise, when she stepped inside, she found a bleary-eyed Lord Albermay staring back at her.
“Whas-timesh-ish?” he slurred, nonplussed at the intrusion.
“Breakfast has just finished, my lord,” Eudora answered, struggling to hide her frown of distaste.
