Chapter 12
W ithin the hour, the doctor had been fetched and was attending to Mrs. McConnell, who had yet to come out of her faint. As Doctor Mills hadn’t wanted to move her more than necessary in her state, Dominick had helped lift her onto the settee, turning the drawing room from the site of a disappearance into a sick room.
As Alfie returned from organising search parties to check the forest and any outbuildings for the captain, be he dead or merely disappeared, he saw Dominick beside the closed drawing room door, standing guard as the doctor examined the patient within.
“Any change?” Alfie asked.
Dominick shook his head. “She mumbled a bit when the smelling salts were brought out, but that’s all. I don’t know how she didn’t jump out of her skin at them right under her nose. I was halfway across the room and they made my eyes water. How about you?”
“Anyone who finds Captain McConnell is to report back immediately, but nothing yet. There’s a lot of places he could be, but hopefully, he’ll be looking for us as much as we’re looking for him. If not—”
Alfie was cut off by the drawing room door opening and the doctor slipping out.
“Ah, Your Lordship.” Doctor Mills gave a jerky bob of his head. “The patient is resting now. I believe she should be coming around shortly. However, she has had quite a shock.”
“Thank you, doctor. Will she be all right?”
The doctor bobbed his head again. “Aye, I’m most certain of it. Still, perhaps you could have a maid sent to keep her company.”
“Of course.” Alfie hesitated. Mrs. Hirkins hated to be fussed over, but she’d had a shock as well and was of advancing years. He’d rather she deride him for being a fusspot and find out she was fine than ignore the opportunity to have a doctor look her over and have there be something truly wrong.
He told Doctor Mills as much, and received yet another rabbit jerk of his head.
“If she was able to flee under her own power, she’s likely well enough, but I’ll be happy to make certain as soon as Mrs. McConnell awakes.”
“I’d appreciate that,” said Alfie. “I’ll go determine where she is and have a maid sent for Mrs. McConnell.”
With that, the doctor ducked back into the drawing room.
“If you’re going to tell Mrs. Hirkins what to do, you’ll need this back,” Dominick said. He handed Alfie his cane, the blade returned to its hiding place within.
Alfie rubbed a hand over his face. “Forget the bloody cane. I’ll need more firepower than that. That’s why I’m bringing you with me.”
Unsurprisingly, they found Mrs. Hirkins in the kitchen. She seemed to have channelled her nerves by turning the female staff into her own personal battalion, rocking baby James in her arms while giving orders to Agnes and a few of the new cleaning maids. Most of the new staff looked even more uncomfortable in the kitchen than Janie, who’d been placed off in a corner to peel vegetables.
Mrs. Finley had escaped the press gang, and was sitting beside Mrs. Hirkins. Instead of tea, she was pouring her drink from a very familiar and highly illegal bottle of the local whisky.
Alfie relieved a thankful maid of her duties and sent her off to join Doctor Mills, then sat down at the kitchen table beside Mrs. Hirkins.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“Just fine,” she snapped. “But I won’t be if that girl overbeats the eggs. They’ve suffered enough! Let them be and start folding in the sugar.”
Alfie looked up at Dominick helplessly. He’d never seen Mrs. Hirkins as frightened as he had that morning, and he’d seen her through fire and murder and the worst of his adolescence. She wasn’t one to show her fear and he didn’t know if all this was embarrassment or still shock.
Dominick stepped forward, taking her drink for himself and downing it in one.
That got her attention.
“It was going to waste just sitting there,” Dominick said, but refilled the glass. Mrs. Finley took that as her cue to leave, going over to keep Janie from losing a finger and giving the three of them a bit of privacy.
Dominick took her seat and held the glass out to Mrs. Hirkins. Without so much as jostling James, she took it, finishing it in several quick sips.
“There you are,” said Dominick, holding the bottle out, but relenting when she shook her head. Then she reconsidered and he refilled her glass.
“‘Come to Scotland,’ you said. ‘Nice quiet place to retire,’ you said. ‘No murders at all.’ Ha!”
Alfie had never made that last promise to her, but wished he could have.
“Ah, but you’d be bored if it was otherwise,” said Dominick.
Mrs. Hirkins glared at him.
“We’re actually not sure there has been a murder or even a death at all,” Alfie offered diplomatically. “Captain McConnell has yet to be located.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “Corpses don’t just get up and walk about.”
“Are you sure he was a corpse?” asked Dominick. “Perhaps you just didn’t get a good look.”
This was why he’d brought Dominick with him. Alfie wouldn’t have survived the glare Mrs. Hirkins was levelling at him now.
“I’ve seen more of life than a squeaker like you. And I know death when I see it.”
“Perhaps you can tell us exactly what you did see,” said Alfie gently.
She huffed. “I was coming down the hall when I saw Mrs. McConnell wandering this way and that. I know how many times I’ve gotten turned about in this bloody warren, so I figured she was the same. I asked if she was looking for the breakfast room, and she said no, she never breakfasted, it disagreed with her digestion. Her husband had gone to fetch some papers from the drawing room and hadn’t returned, but she didn’t know the way. I said I’d be happy to show her.
“But when we get to the drawing room, no sooner had I opened the door than she lets out this almighty shriek and cries out, ‘My husband!’ I look, and there he is in the centre of the room, lying stretched out on the floor and the rope still wrapped tight around his neck, knotted at the back like a noose. He’s as dead a man as I’ve ever seen, but I don’t get more than a look before she grabs my arm and faints dead away. Well, I’m not going to be standing there with a dead man and a woman gone out of her senses, so I go off to find help. The rest you know.”
Alfie made eye contact with Dominick, but they both let her get away with omitting how clearly rattled she’d been by the whole ordeal.
“Were the windows open?”
She stared at Dominick as if he was mad. “There was a dead man at my feet and Mrs. McConnell was halfway there herself. You think I gave a poxy whore’s arse about the fucking windows?”
James burped at that and she paused her obscenities to wipe some spittle from his face. Alfie shared another glance with Dominick, but he only shrugged.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” said Alfie.
She harrumphed.
He couldn’t seem to find any more comforting words. What else was there to say? Instead he laid his hand over hers, feeling the faintest tremble as she patted a cloth to James’ lips. He risked a brief squeeze.
“If there’s anything you need, Mrs. Hirkins, let me know. Please.”
She nodded. He gave her hand one last squeeze before rising.
“By the way,” he said, “please don’t go anywhere. The doctor will be down to check on you shortly.”
Then he left the kitchen with further curses ringing in his ears.