Page 11 of A Moveable Feast
“That’s not what everyone says,” Jane broke in with a scowl at Mary. “Some say Lord Babcock poisoned the first Lady Babcock so he could marry the second one. She was young then, quite a beauty in her day, I’m told.”
“A lady who miscarried children and had trouble bearing them likely was weakened by it,” I said. “It is not surprising that the first Lady Babcock died. Not every death is helped along by poison, even if it might seem unexpected. A person’s constitution can be a complicated thing.”
My mother had been a robust woman, but working so hard to keep us in bread and butter, not to mention the rent for our tiny rooms, had worn her down. When her illness came, she hadn’t had any strength left to fight it.
I busily formed more rolls, willing my eyes to remain dry.
“What about your patent medicines that keep a body fit?” Jane asked with sarcasm.
I sent her an admonishing frown, both in disapproval and to disguise my emotions. “Do not be so impertinent, Jane. Have you finished with those carrots?”
Jane shoved a plate of them to me, cut into a perfect dice. I admit, the reason I didn’t send Jane off on errands that would get her out of the kitchen was that she was proving quite competent at her job.
Mary, on the other hand, fumbled even at stirring a batter, more interested in chattering. I kept her sorting and stacking dishes and pans when she wasn’t washing them. Mostly, she rested her hip against the table and talked while we worked.
“Excellent,” I told Jane. “Now please do the same with the parsnips. They’ll make a fine addition to the ham.”
Jane made a face at me but fell to chopping once more.
When I served the staff their supper that night, I observed a softening in belligerence toward me. The three footmen shoveled in the pork, potatoes, and soft buns slathered in butter with great enjoyment, and even Mrs. Seabrook gave me a grudging, I suppose you do know something about cooking.
I did not hear from Armitage, who snatched a plate and shut himself in his butler’s pantry, but the dish that Mary brought back from him had been scraped clean.
Jane said nothing at all as we ate our meal in the kitchen, but she ceased glowering at me and helped herself to two buns.
After we finished, I took a basket of food scraps up to the street, as was my habit, to give to any lingering beggars.
To my surprise, the men and women who usually waited for me outside the Mount Street house had turned up here. Word had spread of my whereabouts, I supposed.
After I’d emptied the basket, I walked a little way down the road to a figure who huddled beneath a tree near the railings to the square’s park.
“I suppose you’ve come to look after me,” I said to the motionless lump. “And told these others to as well.”
Daniel unfolded to his full height, shrugging off the tattered blanket he’d pulled around his shoulders. “I will always look out for you, Kat.”
I did not like the warmth that filled me at his words. I kept my tone brisk. “If you wish to be useful, will you find something out for me?” I pulled the cup I’d hidden from the bottom of the basket. “Will you have someone test the substance in here for me? I believe it is only laudanum, but I want to be certain.”
Chapter 5
Daniel’s nonchalance faded in an instant. “Why?” he asked, tone sharp.
“Someone dosed the cook. I want to know whether it was out of concern for her health or something more sinister.”
Daniel took the cup and peered at the dregs inside, though he could scarcely see them in this light. “Why would someone want to poison the cook?”
“I don’t know, do I?” I demanded. “That is why I wish to be certain. Her ladyship—or whoever prepared the tea—perhaps wished to aid her to rest. My fancy might be wrong.”
“Your ideas usually aren’t wrong.” Daniel folded a handkerchief around the cup and tucked it into his pocket. “I will have this looked at right away and tell you the results tomorrow.” He put a hand on my arm. “I don’t like you in a house where people are dropping laudanum into teacups on a whim.”
“Do not worry—I am careful.” I decided I would not upset him with the fact that I’d discovered the doctored tea by drinking it myself. “Who on earth will you have test the substance late on the Saturday night before Easter?”
Daniel shrugged. “I know a number of men for whom one day is the same as another. Thanos, for instance, will break into a chemical lab at the Polytechnic if I ask him to.”
“He mustn’t get into any trouble,” I said quickly. “He was invited to Easter dinner with Lady Cynthia and the Bywaters, though I do not know if the invitation will extend to him coming to Lord Babcock’s meal. Rather unfair.” My annoyance at the situation resurged.
“I doubt he’ll mind.” Daniel flashed a smile. “His greatest disappointment would be not dining with Lady Cynthia, but he’ll mend.”
“It was highly inconvenient to all of us,” I growled. “But never mind. What’s done is done. I will prepare a fine dinner and then go home.”
