Page 3 of Ghost in the Garden
Mrs. Lambert shrugged. “Someone trying to scare us, maybe.”
“Who would want to do that?” Solomon asked.
Mrs. Lambert’s gaze slid down to her hands clasped together in her lap. “I don’t know. Someone who don’t like my husband, maybe. He’s made some enemies over the years, and some of ’em bear grudges. Only I can’t see them getting so close as to get caught.” She shrugged. “Brings me back to ghosts again.”
“Well, we could certainly keep watch on your garden for a few nights,” Solomon said.
“No, that wouldn’t work,” Mrs. Lambert said quickly. “Pat and Robin’d get you, and Caleb—my husband—would know I’d been interfering.” She shifted uncomfortably and said, “I thought you might come and pretend to be a servant for a week or so. I’d pay you for that as well as any other fee required for your services. I already told Caleb I wanted another footman.” She looked Solomon up and down. “But you wouldn’t do.”
Solomon raised one eyebrow.
“I don’t care what color your skin is,” Mrs. Lambert said bluntly. “But no one’d ever believe you’re a servant.” Her gaze shifted to Constance. “I don’t have a proper lady’s maid either, but you talk too posh to work for the likes of me.”
“I don’t have to talk posh,” Constance said. “I’ll speak any way you like and stick to it.”
Mrs. Lambert smiled. “You been on the stage?”
“As good as,” Constance said, sustaining a critical inspection.
“You can’t wear that kind of dress, neither.”
“Of course not. I have a plain back dress I can wear—with an apron, if you like. And pin my hair more suitably.”
“Done,” said Mrs. Lambert as though closing a deal.
“Here is a list of our charges,” Solomon said, placing the relevant piece of paper on the table in front of her.
She barely glanced at it. “Fine. When can you begin?”
“Tomorrow morning?” Constance said. “Mr. Grey can deal with matters here.”
“Good,” Mrs. Lambert said, standing up. “Don’t forget to use the back door.”
“I won’t,” Constance assured her.
“Allow me to see you out,” Solomon said politely, conducting her to the door.
Constance paced with excitement until he came back. “Well? What do you think?” she demanded. “Not what I was hoping for, but at least it’ssomething.”
“I think it’s strange,” he said. He was frowning as he sat down again. “Why is it something for us? She has a husband, a house full of servants—including at least three manservants. Yet the first thing she thinks of is not to send them to lay hold of this ghost, but to come to us at vast expense.”
“She doesn’t appear to be short of money,” Constance said. “But she does seem afraid of her husband. She doesn’t want him to notice she’s been interfering, which is why I have to pretend to be a servant. Who is this Caleb Lambert?”
“I have no idea.” Solomon picked up Mrs. Lambert’s card again. “What’s more, I’m not exactly sure where that is. We should go and look this evening. And find out a bit more about the Lamberts. I don’t like the idea of your being in there alone.”
“I won’t be alone. I’ll have Mrs. Lambert on my side at the very least.”
“Mrs. Lambert, who’s afraid of her husband and doesn’t trust her servants.”
Constance grimaced. “Put like that… You and I will need to be able to communicate. In fact… Why don’t we begin this afternoon? I’ll get Janey to stay here just in case someone calls with an inquiry.”
“Janey?” he said at once. “Of the foul mouth and aggressive manner?”
“That’s the one. She’ll be polite enough taking messages and making appointments, and if anyone causes trouble, they won’t know what hit them. We can send a boy with a note…”
“Write it. I’ll find a messenger to send to your house in Grosvenor Square.”
*
