Page 23 of Ghost in the Garden
Another man in the house who owed nothing to Lambert, and yet was liable to hear and see what he wasn’t meant to, would have been a dangerous thing. Lambert didn’t want strangers so close to him.
“Did you see anything of Gregg today?” she asked.
He shifted uneasily. “No, and I don’t want to. If he’s keeping his distance, that suits me fine.”
“What if he talks to the inquiry, like he said? Lands you in it along with him?”
“Gregg’d never do that, whatever he said to me the other day. Too much the gentleman.”
She cast him a look that was almost derisive. “And when all the rents start coming direct to you?”
“By then, the law won’t be looking.”
“No, but Lenny Knox might. And all those other angry sods who lost family.”
“Give it a rest, Angie,” he growled. “It’s all sorted. None of them will come after me.”
“Pride goes before a fall, Caleb.”
“I ain’t proud. And neither you nor me will fall.”
“Muck always rises,” she said bitterly.
“We ain’t muck,” he snarled. “Never think it. We’re just ambitious. Backbone of this country.”
Sometimes, he even believed that.
*
How to explainthe sheer emotion that flooded Constance when Solomon had stepped out of the shadows? Relief that he was no threat was in there, but swamped by all the rest, chief of which was fierce happiness and the reasonless belief that now all was right with the world.
Solomon had becomenecessaryto her. It was a dangerous weakness, for she had not relied on anyone since early childhood. And yet she had to stop herself from seizing him and hugging him close. As it was, she had nearly broken his arm with the ferocity of her grip. And his instant response, while embarrassing her, warmed her from her toes.
If she were honest with herself, that was what made it so much easier to return to the Lamberts’ house. She was not alone again among scary, alien enemies. Solomon was within reach. And she could take care of herself.
She had to knock at the back door to get back into the house. Even facing Duggin did not trouble her. “Where’ve you been?” he asked coldly as she breezed inside and he closed and locked the door behind her.
“Just getting some fresh air before I have to attend the mistress. She hasn’t rung, has she?”
He didn’t blink often enough, which made him appear oddly menacing. “As well for you she hasn’t. You don’t leave the premises without permission.”
“Without the mistress’s permission,” she said, as though agreeing. “Or instruction. I’ll just go up and make sure her night things are laid out ready.”
“She’ll be a while yet,” said the maid Denise, carrying a tray of dirty crockery into the kitchen. “They’re in the drawing room. After that she always goes back to her parlor for a bit before bed. We’ll take their tea up in a bit, then we can have ours and get to bed.”
“Except you.” Duggin smirked at Constance. “You’ll have to wait for the mistress.”
“Doesn’t Mr. Lambert have a valet?” she asked as though surprised.
“Mr. Lambert is quite capable of dressing himself.”
Constance went upstairs and prepared Angela’s night things as best she could. She found her skin prickling, every sense alert for the intrusion of Lambert. She put another coal on the fire before she left and returned to the kitchen.
Tea and a light supper were laid out on the table. All the servants were there, though after ten minutes, Pat and Robin went out on their usual patrol of the garden. Conversation was desultory—everyone, presumably, was tired. Constance, used to late nights, was not.
When Pat and Robin returned, they nodded to Duggin and sat down again. A minute later, Duggin rose.
“Get your heads down,” he said curtly, and went out.
