Page 35 of Blackmail at Beckwith Place
A shadow crossed her face and she turned back to the table. “Nothing you need concern yourself with, Miss Darling.”
“Constance told me she left Lady Peckham’s employ suddenly,” I said, with a glance at Constance, who nodded. “She didn’t give notice or anything. Was something wrong, and that’s why she left? And now you’re concerned about her?”
Hughes shook her head. “This is none of your affair, Miss Darling.”
“She worked for my mother for as long as I can remember,” Constance said from beside me. “If something’s wrong, I would like to know.”
Hughes eyed her. And eyed me, and eyed Christopher. We both attempted to look as if we weren’t asking out of sheer, idle nosiness. Hughes sighed and turned her attention back to Constance. “We corresponded occasionally over the years. I was your mother’s lady’s maid at Marsden a long time ago. Lydia Morrison was Lady Charlotte’s maid at Sutherland before the young lord was born.”
The young lord being Crispin. So we were talking about things that had happened almost a quarter-century ago.
“Were you the one who wanted a change of position,” I wanted to know, “or did Morrison?”
Hughes eyed me for another moment, but eventually she deigned to answer. “After Master Crispin was born, things at Sutherland weren’t the same.”
Obviously not. Although she probably wasn’t referring to the obvious. People can be so annoying, with the way they don’t just come out and say things.
I did my best to look politely expectant, and eventually she gave in and went on. “I wasn’t there at the time, but apparently His Grace became… peculiar.”
I arched my brows. So did Christopher. “His Grace meaning my grandfather?” he asked. Hughes nodded. “Peculiar, how?”
Normally, when a peer is referred to as peculiar, it’s because he has found religion or a chorus girl or some such nonsense. Or has lost his faculties in some other fashion. I had never noticed any such peculiarities in Duke Henry. He’d been a sour old man for as long as I had known him, but I wouldn’t have called him peculiar by any of the usual standards.
“Wasn’t this right around the time when his own father died?” I asked, looking at Christopher. “The old Duke, the one we talked about, who was a lad around eighteen-sixty? Perhaps your grandfather just had a difficult adjustment into the role?”
Christopher shook his head. “I have no idea, Pippa. I was just a few months old myself at the time.”
“So Morrison wanted to leave,” I said. “Is that it?”
“Yes, Miss Darling,” Hughes nodded.
“And she went to Marsden instead of you, and you came to Sutherland Hall instead of her. Did Duke Henry behave peculiarly towards you too?”
“I never noticed anything amiss in my lord’s manner, Miss Darling.”
“That’s all quite interesting,” Constance said politely, in a tone that indicated that she didn’t find it interesting at all, “but I would like to know whether there’s a reason to worry about Morrison’s current whereabouts. This is all ancient history. But she left the Dower House more than two months ago and didn’t leave a forwarding address. Do you have reason to think something’s wrong?”
Hughes hesitated. “I phoned Dorset the evening after His late Grace’s valet was found dead. My lady was uneasy in her mind, and wished to speak to Morrison.”
“Aunt Charlotte? Did you hear what they talked about?”
She eyed me again, much as one does an insect on a pin. “No, Miss Darling.”
The corollary—“and I wouldn’t tell you if I did,”—was implied but not stated out loud.
“Hughes…” Christopher tried.
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Master Christopher. She took the call in the study, away from everyone. I stood in the hallway so she wouldn’t be disturbed. I couldn’t hear the conversation.”
“But you think it had something to do with Grimsby’s death?”
She gave me another look. “I don’t know, Miss Darling.”
Fine. “You haven’t heard from Morrison since she left the Dower House. And you’re concerned.”
She nodded.
“Perhaps you can prevail upon your aunt or uncle to make some inquiries,” I told Constance, “when they get back to Dorset. Or perhaps Laetitia or Geoffrey would be willing to oblige. It’s possible one of the other servants has heard from her. Or perhaps she had friends in the village that she’s kept in touch with.”
