Page 68 of The Trick of the Treasure
“Well, she’s the kindest of ladies, sir, wouldn’t hurt a fly, give you anything she could from a kind word to a sixpence for medicine when you got a cold. Knitted winter scarves for all the maids, she did. But she’s vague, sir, forgets stuff, and never had to find out there’s villains in the world who’d rob her blind or knock her down for her handkerchief.”
“I understand she does a lot of good works, through the church and various charities. Do you really think she could go among the poorest in society, into areas that most of us would hesitate to venture, without coming acrosslife?”
Garrick closed his mouth, ruminating on this novel point of view. “I never thought of it like that,” he said at last. “I just know she’s not valued in this house as she should be.” He glanced somewhat fearfully toward the door as though he expected his employers to charge in and dismiss him for effrontery or disloyalty.
“What makes you think so?” Solomon asked.
“They don’t pay any attention to her. Oh, they feed her—except when they have guests to dinner, then she gets a tray in her room. She doesn’t go calling with them; she doesn’t go to parties or join Mrs. Lloyd’s entertainments.”
And she didn’t go to the opera with them. “Why is that, do you suppose?”
Garrick shrugged, his upper lip curling very slightly. Probably, he didn’t even notice it happening. “She makes the house look untidy, gives away the fact that they neglect her. She was brought up with a maid to help her dress and do her hair, and now the staff is so cut back here, the housemaid’s got no time to see to her.”
“What of the younger members of the household?”
“Children follow the lead of their parents,” Garrick said darkly. “Though Miss Rachel still goes up to her often enough. She likes children, Miss Lloyd does. Such a pity she never had any of her own.”
Solomon returned to the original question. “Wereany of the doors unlocked this morning?”
Garrick shook his head. “No, that’s one blessing.”
“Is it? Her bed hadn’t been slept in, I understand, so she must have left the house before you bolted the doors for the night. When did you last see her?”
“When dinner was served. Oh, God…”
“Not after dinner?”
“No, I don’t… Wait, I did notice her go upstairs when the other ladies went to the drawing room. That wasn’t unusual. Sometimes she came back down again with her book or her work basket.”
“Did she last night?”
“I didn’t see her if she did.”
“Did the upstairs maids see her at all, either last night or this morning?”
“No, sir,” Garrick said unhappily. “But that’s not unusual either. She just goes about her own business and no one notices.”
If she was so very kind to the servants, they might well notice… “I may want to speak to the other servants later, but I’d better see the rest of the family, if they’re in.”
“The ladies are in the drawing room, sir. Shall I announce you?”
“Yes, if you please,” Solomon replied, trying not to blink at this unprecedented courtesy. Garrick really was worried. “Um, and where would I find Miss Rachel? In the schoolroom?”
Garrick regarded him. “If I drop a word, I daresay she might run into you.”
Mrs. Lloyd and her elder daughter were seated in the drawing room, both with needlework on their laps, although neither appeared to be attending to it.
“Oh, Mr. Grey!” Jemimah exclaimed, springing up so that her embroidery frame slid to the floor. “Have you found my aunt?”
“Not yet,” Solomon said, bowing to both ladies. “But I understand it was you, Miss Jemimah, who first realized she was missing from home.”
“It seems so, yes. Rachel and I went to her room—”
“Rachel should have been in the schoolroom,” Mrs. Lloyd interrupted, frowning.
“Oh, she is bored, Mama! You cannot expect her to sit there day after day with no company, no teacher, and the tedious task of copying out long, dreary passages from supposedly improving books that don’t improve anything at all except one’s interest in something—anything!—else.”
“Jemimah!” exclaimed her mother, clearly shocked, and slightly embarrassed.
