Chapter Six #2
“I don’t know, miss. Ask someone else.”
“Is there anyone in particular I should ask?”
Her lips twitch. “Aye, you will not catch me there. Cleverly done, though.” She takes a clean handkerchief from the drawer and tucks it into her pocket. “If you’ll excuse me, miss. I have work to do.”
I’m in her path fast enough to startle her. “Actually, Lady Adler wants all the staff to speak to me. Any time that takes will not be counted against you. If you wish, you may ask Mr. Loomis. He has her instructions.”
Her lips press together, her look telling me I seemed a nice enough sort and now I have ruined it.
“What is your name?” I ask.
She seems ready to ignore me and then mutters, “Lily.”
“Do you know why Nellie would have left?” I ask.
Silent glaring.
“You do not need to answer any of my questions,” I say. “However, if it turns out that something happened to Nellie and you knew why, I will need to tell Lady Adler you refused to answer me.”
“Miss Sullivan,” she says.
“You mean Sully? Lady Adler’s lady’s maid?”
No answer, because it doesn’t need answering.
I’ve discovered some interesting naming conventions among domestic staff, ones I might have realized if I’d paid more attention to period dramas.
Butlers are referred to by their surname.
So, John Loomis becomes Loomis. Men lower in the ranks are usually called by their first name, like Simon.
The housekeeper is called Mrs. Surname even if she’s never been married—Paulina Wallace is Mrs. Wallace.
Maids, again, are first-name-only. Catriona, Jack, Alice.
In the case of larger staffs, the maids and grooms or footmen might all just be called by a common name—Johns and Marys—so their employers don’t need to remember who everyone is.
Ladies’ maids can be called by their surname only, and it may be altered to a diminutive. So Miss Sullivan could be Sullivan but she could also be Sully. Of course, all this applies to employers only. Loomis is still usually Mr. Loomis to lower staff, and Sully is Miss Sullivan.
“Was there a problem between Nellie and Miss Sullivan?”
Lily gives a curt shrug. Then, she says, grudgingly, “Lady Adler is particular when it comes to her personal maids. They do not always suit.”
Ah. Okay, so the secret here involves gossip about an employer. I can see why Lily would be reluctant to speak, and I lower my voice.
“Let me explain a little of what I am doing,” I say.
“My task is to find out what happened to Nellie, because Lady Adler is concerned. All I care about is finding her alive, and that is what I will report. The reason why she left is her own business. Likewise, anything that helps me do my job is my own business. I report back to my employer, Dr. Duncan Gray. He will not ask me who said what. Nor will he provide reports to Lady Adler. His task, like mine, is to find Nellie. Nothing more.”
She frowns. “Dr. Gray? The undertaker?”
“You know him?”
She seems to relax a little. “I saw him here, last year, when Lady Adler’s father died. He is … noticeable.” Because he’s not white, which makes him stand out, especially for a well-to-do gentleman.
Lily continues, “He is brother to Mrs. Ballantyne, who is visiting now.” Her head shoots up. “She brought you.”
“Yes. I also serve as a companion to Mrs. Ballantyne.”
“Oh.” Quiet, as if I am being shifted from one box to another. “That is a good position to have. She seems very kind.”
“She is.”
“And her brother is very clever. I have heard her speak of him with pride, and then I met him and…” She clears her throat.
“He was not what I expected. I thought he would be much older and, er, a full brother, not…” Another throat clearing.
“Which is also none of my business, except that it raised Mrs. Ballantyne even more in my regard.”
She means she thinks it’s very generous of Isla to treat her brown-skinned illegitimate half brother as if he is truly family.
I don’t hold that against Lily. It’s what most people think, and Isla has raged against it to me in private.
She grumbles that much of her reputation as a “good” woman is rooted in that offensive misunderstanding.
It’s what launched her into the inner circles of society charity work, where she was quickly accepted despite her eccentricities because, you know, charity does begin at home.
“I work for Dr. Gray,” I repeat. “While he could interview you himself, I believed the staff might prefer I did it. I was in service before I became his assistant. I was their housemaid. So I understand that you will not wish to say anything that might seem a slight on your employer, and I will not take it as such. More importantly, I do not even need to tell Dr. Gray who said what. He trusts me in that regard.”
She exhales and folds her arms. “It is not Lady Adler’s fault. If I were a wealthy lady, I would be particular, too, especially with my lady’s maid.”
“Miss Sullivan does not suit?”
“She seems fine enough, but the others say she will not last and they say Lady Adler was paying particular attention to Nellie.”
“Considering her as a replacement. Nellie was young, was she not?”
“Sixteen, but Miss Sullivan is only two-and-twenty. Lady Adler prefers young companions. She says they are more interesting. She would not have replaced Miss Sullivan with someone as young as Nellie, but she was clearly considering it for the future.”
“And Miss Sullivan knew that. Did she make things difficult for Nellie?”
“She did not make them easy.”
I walk along the beds, thinking of how best to push for details that the maid doesn’t seem eager to give.
“Can you provide an example?” I say. “So that I understand whether the treatment might have been enough to drive Nellie from her job?”
The maid shrugs. “It seemed the childish sort of thing one sister might do to another when they are jealous. If Lady Adler called for Nellie, Miss Sullivan would not relay the message. Or she would find a way to delay Nellie. Lady Adler liked Nellie to clean her quarters—she said Nellie did it best. Once, after it had just been cleaned, there was soot on the rug. Another time, Lady Adler’s things had been put in the wrong places. ”
“Petty revenges,” I say.
“Yes, and they did not matter because Lady Adler is not stupid. She started asking Nellie to clean while she was in her room, but really, it was only an excuse to talk to her. That only made Miss Sullivan more angry. She had to stand there while they chatted.”
“Do you know what they spoke about?”
“Nothing of import. Nellie has a quick tongue and a quicker wit, and she makes sly observations, which amused Lady Adler.”
“You say Lady Adler preferred Nellie cleaning her room. Did that unsettle anyone besides Miss Sullivan?”
“You mean me or Rose?” She laughs. “Not at all. Rose and I do our duties, but we do not see the point in doing extra. There is more to life than work, and we do not intend to remain in service long. We both have beaus.”
“Did Nellie have one?”
She shrugs. “Perhaps? She didn’t talk about herself much.”
“As for the work, was there any discontent when the newest maid seemed in line to become Lady Adler’s personal maid?”
“Rose and I wouldn’t have wanted the job. Being a lady’s maid means you are at Her Ladyship’s beck and call at all times. One must also be entertaining and pleasing. The only person I care to entertain and please is my beau.”
I make notes in my book. Then I say, “I can certainly see how the tension with Miss Sullivan could make Nellie uncomfortable. But I am not certain I see it as a reason to leave. Was that her personality? That she would be bothered enough by Miss Sullivan’s pettiness to flee in the night?”
A shrug, and the maid glances toward the door, as if wondering when she can leave.
“Was there more?” I say.
Another shrug.
“Did Nellie speak to you? Did she indicate she’d had enough?”
“It was the blade,” she blurts. “I believe that is why she left.”
“The blade?”
“In her boot.”
I blink. “Someone put a blade in Nellie’s boot?”
“It was a small blade, like a man might use for shaving. But it was very sharp, and it cut her. Mrs. Loomis was furious. She confronted Miss Sullivan, who said she did not do it and began to cry. Mrs. Loomis wanted to take the matter to Lady Adler, but Nellie said no. She patched up her foot and went back to work.”
“Did she believe Miss Sullivan did it?”
“She would not say. Rose and I tried to talk to her about it, but she said it was nothing, even when she was limping about after a long day of work. She seemed determined to carry on. It must have been an act, though, because two days later, she was gone.”