Chapter Five #3
Lewis regarded her, his face carefully blank. Though he couldn’t quite hide the skeptical glint in his eyes.
“I offered to take on this task for Lady Chadbon, since she is already so busy,” Kate confided. It was sort of true. “But obviously I scarcely knew Dinah. She seemed a lively young woman that one was glad to have around.”
Lewis let his hand fall away from the latch. “She was,” he said woodenly.
“Kind? Helpful? Good-natured?”
Lewis nodded, meeting her gaze now.
“An important and much-valued member of the household’s domestic staff,” Kate added.
A hint of amusement crossed his face.
“With an excellent sense of fun,” Kate guessed, avoiding the word shirker. “When did you last see Dinah?”
“In the kitchen, the night she collapsed.”
“But were you not on duty at the drawing room that evening?” Kate asked innocently.
“I was. But I helped fetch the tea things once the gentlemen had gone in.”
“Ah, of course. And Dinah was in the kitchen at that time?”
“She brought the glasses down from the dining room to be washed. That was the last time I saw her.” His voice broke and he hastily coughed behind his hand to cover it.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said quickly. “Did she seem…normal to you at that time?”
“She didn’t look ill, if that’s what you mean.”
“Happy?” Kate asked.
“Working,” the footman said dryly. Then he appeared to think back. “Actually, she did seem happy enough, more than she had been.”
“That must be a comfort to all her friends. Do you know why she was happier?”
His eyes veiled with a new hardness. “No, my lady. I was just glad to see it.”
No he wasn’t. He had suspected her of anticipating an assignation, possibly with the coachman, with whom Lewis had been quarrelling the next day. But it gave her the chance to ask, “Do you think someone had been unkind to her previously?”
Lewis returned to wooden. “She never said so, my lady.”
Kate took a step nearer. “Lady Chadbon would not like to think that anyone had behaved inappropriately, either among the staff or her guests.”
“Oh, no, my lady, both Her Ladyship and Mrs. Thornfield are very strict. So’s Mr. Kemp. If anyone’s a problem, the maids go in twos to his room, or a footman goes too.”
Such as no doubt happened when young master Gerald Chadbon came home. “Of course,” Kate said, nodding. “Only…no one bothered her that night, did they? After you saw her in the kitchen, I mean.”
“I never heard so, my lady.”
Aware that she was about to step over the bounds of both the discretion she had promised Lord Chadbon and the covering reason she had given Lewis for her questions, she asked anyway.
“Who left the drawing room that evening, while you were on duty there?”
He blinked. “Many people—nearly everyone at one time or another. Your Ladyship, for one.”
She smiled at him, genuinely pleased by his observation. “I did, didn’t I? Twice, in fact. Do you remember anyone leaving the room after I did the first time?”
His brow furrowed in thought. “Mr. Otteridge did. And Miss Nye. Then you came back. Mr. Newman came out shortly after. Then Sir Colin Nye. A few minutes later, Mr. Kemp shouted up for me to fetch His Lordship, and His Lordship left. And Your Ladyship again, with Lady Chadbon.”
“You are very observant! How long were all these people gone before they returned to the drawing room? Excluding Lord and Lady Chadbon and me.”
He looked startled. “Just a few minutes.”
“Did any of them go downstairs?”
“No need, my lady. There are retiring rooms on that floor.” He paused. “Miss Nye and Mr. Newman went upstairs, mind you, no doubt to their bedchambers. They didn’t confide their reasons to me. And actually, now I think about it, Mr. Otteridge might have gone downstairs.”
So, in fact, of everyone who had left the drawing room at about the right time, only Sir Colin Nye had stayed on the same floor. “And while His Lordship and I were downstairs, did anyone return to the drawing room that you can recall?”
Lewis began to look slightly baffled, and she guessed she was reaching the end of what she could usefully extract from him without complaints reaching Chadbon.
“Miss Nye, now you mention it. And Mr. Otteridge.”
“Miss Nye from upstairs? And Mr. Otteridge from…where?”
Lewis raised his hand, as though he would scratch his head, then hastily dropped it back to his side. “Miss Nye from upstairs, my lady. But I’ve a feeling Mr. Otteridge came from this floor.”
Aha! “Thank you, Lewis. I have a much better picture of that evening now. Um, one last thing—did you leave your post at the drawing room at any time? After tea was served, I mean, and before Her Ladyship and I returned to the drawing room together?”
“No, my lady,” he said. The self-righteous shock was overdone and reminded her of her nephews wriggling out of trouble.
She gave a quick smile. “What, not even to peer over the banister and find out what was wrong?”
His face relaxed. “I might have called down to Andrew in the hall here. From the top of the stairs.”
“Quite natural,” Kate murmured, glancing upward. From the top of the stairs, with his back to the drawing room, Lewis would not have seen or even noticed anyone going quietly in or out of the drawing room. Which might explain why he made no mention of either Newman or Sir Colin Nye returning.
There was another major staircase, of course, in the east wing, and also the servants’ stairs. Anyone could have used those without Lewis’s being aware they had gone down or up… And presumably Otteridge did use it to return from downstairs, though why was not clear.
At the back of the house, Kemp emerged through the baize door, going about his dignified business. Kate’s privacy with Lewis was over for now.
“Time to take that walk,” she said lightly, “and get my thoughts in order.”
Hastily, Lewis opened the front door and Kate sailed through.