by Blythe Baker
Margot rolled her eyes. “Some might say that other features are more pronounced now…”
Gertrude gave Margot a shove in the arm with her elbow, and Margot winced, rubbing the spot with a frown.
“Perhaps I should speak with Francine, then,” I said. “If she spends such a great deal of time waiting upon her mistress, I wonder if she might have seen anything strange happening.”
“We can go fetch her for you, if you would like,” Margot said, still massaging her arm.
“I would,” I said. “And the sooner, the better.”
Margot curtsied once again, Gertrude mimicking her movement.
“We shall return soon,” Margot said.
“Very good,” I said. “Let us hope we can find the answers that we need.”
15
I assured the maids that I would be waiting in the guest room that Lady Wilson had so kindly allowed me to use and they promised they would bring Francine to me as soon as they found her. I wondered, just as they did, if she was downstairs with Lady Wilson, as she always seemed to be, according to Margot.
I took a seat in the sitting room, careful to keep my back to the chair near the window that had appeared in my dreams the night before. I had far too much on my mind already to worry any further about something that was entirely unreal.
This gave my thoughts a chance to wander in other directions, however…such as to the conversation that Nash and his aunt might be having. I had assumed he would have come looking for me by now. He had said that he only wished to speak with her alone for a few moments, hadn’t he? It still troubled me that whatever it was he said to her, he had wished to say without my being present.
Could it be that he did not accept the estate agent’s innocence as readily as he appeared to? Perhaps he simply did not wish to question her further about the man while Mr. Carter and I were in the room. Though why should he not have trusted us enough to have the conversation while we were all together?
I wondered if the time Mr. Carter and I now spent questioning household servants might not be better spent questioning Mr. Deventon. Still, there was nothing I could do now but pursue the course before me and trust Nash to handle whatever was on his mind.
It was no more than five minutes later that Margot and Gertrude returned…without Francine.
“We cannot find her,” Margot said, folding her arms, indignant. “We went to see Lady Wilson but she was not with her.”
“Nor is she in her room,” Gertrude said. “And as it is not time for our dinner, she is not in the kitchens, either.”
“Where might she be?” I asked, brow furrowing.
Margot shrugged. “There are still several places we have not checked, though they seemed less likely at the time…”
“We are terribly sorry,” Gertrude said. “We simply did not wish for you to be waiting here, wondering.”
“It’s perfectly all right,” I said. “But perhaps you could now check those other places? I should very much like to speak with her still.”
“Certainly,” Margot said.
With assurance that they would return soon, I waited until they had disappeared at the end of the hall to step out of my own room and start down toward Lady Wilson’s.
The powder the girls had described…I wondered if it was the same powder I had seen Lady Wilson applying to her face the day before as she prepared for her dress fitting.
A gift from a favorite servant…it seemed unlikely that a servant she had such a good relationship with would do something so terrible but what if something unintentional was occurring? What if neither of them knew? If some ingredient in the powder was harmful, unbeknown to them, then this could all be nothing more than a misunderstanding.
I considered that the poison could also be in some other personal item. The Lady surely used a great many items every day. A hairbrush, perhaps. Or maybe her pillow. If the action was deliberate, those things could somehow be poisoned, couldn’t they?
Something within urged me forward, prompting me to go and see the powder, to find out if my suspicions were correct.
I was halfway to the doors of the Lady’s personal quarters, my heart in my throat. Surely she would be furious with me for going in without her permission. I knew I would feel a sense of violation if someone entered my room unannounced.
Nevertheless, she wanted help finding who might be poisoning her, did she not? Her privacy might have to come second in this instance, if we were to make progress.
I stopped as a door at the far end of the hall opened. Quickly, I leapt in through an open doorway. The room beyond, which appeared to be a billiard room, was empty and unlit.
My heart raced as I leaned against the wall. This is foolish, isn’t it? If I am to hide at the slightest provocation –
It was then that I realized I could not hear anything out in the hall. I wondered if whoever it was that had opened the door had decided against stepping out. Perhaps the way to Lady Wilson’s room was still clear.
I peered out into the bright hall and movement toward the end drew my attention.
A young maid walked slowly and silently toward me. It only took me a moment to realize that it was not simply toward me she traveled but toward Lady Wilson’s room.
And only another instant to realize that it was the young maid, Francine.
What is she doing?
It certainly explained why the other servants could not locate her.
As I watched, she kept glancing down the hall and over her shoulder behind her. She tiptoed toward Lady Wilson’s door.
Why is she sneaking around that way? If she is Lady Wilson’s personal maid, then shouldn’t entering Lady Wilson’s room be expected behavior?
Francine glanced up and down the hall both ways as she laid her hand upon the door handle to Lady Wilson’s room. With a rather frightened expression, she pushed the doors open and stepped through.
Without wasting a moment, I decided to follow after her.
Something strange was happening and my heart raced faster as I began to form a conclusion in my mind.
The door stood ajar as I reached it. Within, I could see Francine, still crouching slightly as she moved, heading toward Lady Wilson’s dressing table.
With great care, the maid reached into the front of her apron and withdrew a small jar. She examined it briefly, spinning it around to see it from all sides, before she set it down upon the vanity. She nudged it this way and that, leaning her head to stare at it, prominently arranging it where Lady Wilson would be unable to miss it.
I took a step into the room and the movement drew Francine’s eye.
At once, she snapped to attention, her back straight, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her face burned brightly, her eyes wide like a rabbit caught in a corner.
“I – I am sorry, Miss. I – I did not hear you come in,” she stammered.
“Yes, I see that,” I said. “What are you doing in here?”
“Oh,” the girl said, the color in her face spreading to her neck and ears. “I ju – just came to leave my Lady her powder,” she said, touching the jar with the tips of her fingers, as if it might shatter if held too tightly. “It is her favorite and I – I realized that she had grown quite low on it.”
My eyes narrowed. “I see. Some of the other maids told me that Lady Wilson uses a great deal of this powder.”
“She – she does, yes,” Francine said.
I glanced briefly at her hands. She wrung them in front of herself, her knuckles white. She swallowed hard. Her eyes darted around. Her jaw, clenched tightly, gave away that she chewed on her lip from the inside.
“And you happened upon this powder for her?” I asked, stepping forward. “What made you wish to give it to her?”
“It – it was her birthday,” the maid said, taking a step backward, the backs of her legs bumping into the small bench belonging to the vanity. “I thought it might be nice to get her something – something she would like.”
“That
was very kind of you,” I said, still walking toward her, slowly. “However, I find it difficult to believe that you would not save that money for yourself. Those sorts of beauty products do not come cheap. And to buy her now several jars of it – why, it must have cost you a small fortune.”
The pieces had begun to fall together. Lady Wilson would never have thought to look right under her nose for the cause of her illness. Nor would she have thought to look at those so near and dear to her. If Francine was her most trusted servant, why would she ever consider that the girl could have been trying to harm her?
I thought of Constable Brown, how he would have urged me to always look at everyone around, even those closest to the victim. Perhaps even especially those closest. It did not matter how much the victim trusted the person; the individual always had their own heart, their own mind…and their own reasons for the choices they made.
The truth, he would say in this instance, was what I needed to find. Everything else would reveal itself through that.
Francine bumped into the vanity, laying a hand over her chest. Her face, suddenly flushed, made her appear ill.
“The money did not matter,” she said with a weak smile, still unable to meet my gaze. “I – I simply wished for my Lady to know how much I appreciated her. How much I admired her.”
“I know women who would not do so much for their own mothers,” I said. “You are terribly kind to your mistress.”
I intentionally used those words. It was entirely unrealistic to think that a young woman in such a situation would choose to spend her hard earned money on the woman she worked for, the woman who would very likely have more than the poor young girl ever would.
She could see that I had started to figure out the truth.
“You seem to have been determined that she have this powder,” I said, gesturing down to the small jar, the exact twin of the one that sat beside it, the one Lady Wilson had been using just the day before. “I wonder why that is…”
Francine sidestepped the vanity, letting out a nervous laugh. “As I said, I wanted my Lady to have a very nice present. I knew she had been looking for ways to preserve her beauty. Not that my Lady needed to preserve anything, as she is as lovely as a lily. But I – I heard of this powder, and upon my gifting it, she was overjoyed. I did not wish to disappoint her by allowing it to ever run out – ”
She backed into the wall, letting out a gasp.
It was time to cease the games. “Francine, is there something in that powder that should not be there? Something that might be harming Lady Wilson?”
The girl froze, her eyes as round and bright as the moon. The rapid rise and fall of her chest indicated that her heart raced, likely as quickly as mine did, if not faster.
She had not expected me to outright ask her. She knew, as well as I, that the questions would have eventually led to that. She knew that the entire reason why I had not announced myself upon entering the room was because I had been watching her with great suspicion.
I could see her attempting to find a way out of this. Talking had done nothing. Sneaking had only led to her being caught.
She was stuck. And in a way, so was I. I had no way of calling anyone else. And if I did, what might she do?
She finally met my gaze and the sudden emotion in her eyes made my own heart skip.
She drew in a deep breath.
“She ruined my life!” she suddenly screamed. “And she deserves to die for it!”
16
It happened so quickly that I barely had time to react.
After the words had escaped her lips, she reached down to the vanity table and scooped up an ornate, golden hand mirror. In one swift motion, the cry of rage still spilling from her lips, she tossed the mirror in my direction as hard and fast as she could.
With only a heartbeat to react, I ducked, wrenching my neck in the process.
Having sufficiently distracted me, she ran out from beside the vanity table and dashed toward the door.
In order to do so, she had to pass by me.
Still kneeling down near the floor, with pure instinct, I reached out a stiff arm, which Francine collided with. She tumbled to the floor, another angry scream echoing throughout the room.
Francine rolled around, kicking out with her feet. The heel of her shoe struck me against the cheek.
I fell back, grabbing my jaw with my hand, pain shooting through my face and down my neck.
Francine made an effort to dash away again but I reached out and grabbed onto the hem of her skirt, yanking her backward, all the way past me and back toward the vanity.
She stumbled to the ground, tripping over her shoes.
I stood to my feet, keeping between her and the doorway.
I rubbed my jaw, glaring at her.
“Let me go,” the girl screamed, her eyes bleary with tears.
“I think not,” I said. “Not after that retaliation. You have been poisoning Lady Wilson, haven’t you?”
Her bottom lip trembled. In that moment, it was easy to see just how young she truly was. This was not an adult before me. She was a girl, probably not much older than sixteen.
“Why?” I asked. “What could possibly have happened to make you want to – ”
“She ruined my life!” Francine shrieked, the tears spilling out onto her face. She inhaled sharply, doing her best to keep her composure, yet failing miserably. “She – she denied me the only thing I ever wanted…”
I hesitated. The emotion in this girl’s face rang true. She meant what she said. She believed that Lady Wilson had ruined her life, completely. In her mind, resorting to these measures was the only possible response.
“What was it you wanted?” I asked.
She stamped her foot, her hands clenched into fists at her side. “I – I wanted to be married,” she said. “And Lady Wilson – she denied me the opportunity!”
My brow furrowed. “Why would she do that?”
“I have gone out of my mind trying to understand why!” she shrieked, pacing back and forth in the small space. Her fists trembled. “I have seen maid after maid leave here the last few years, Lady Wilson giving them her blessing! But why me? Why would she not let me be with the man I love?”
My brow furrowed. “Surely Lady Wilson must have had her reasons – ”
“Oh, she had reasons, all right,” Francine said. “She told me time and time again that she did not want me sneaking out to be with him. Well, I would not have had to sneak out if she would have let me see him during the daylight hours!”
She stopped, pointing toward me.
“I respected her rules,” Francine said, her eyes blazing. “I did as she asked. I waited until all my chores had ended. I only wanted to see him on the days that Lady Wilson had given me for myself, the days I had off. He would meet me at the back door of the kitchens and that was where we would talk, out in the gardens.”
Her face turned scarlet and she looked away from me.
“He – he and I were caught one afternoon by another maid, Sara, who told on me!” Francine cried, her voice rising once again. “She went and told that –”
“I believe it was me she told.”
Wheeling around, I saw Lady Wilson standing in the doorway, flanked by Mr. Carter and Nash.
Lady Wilson folded her arms, frowning at Francine. “I thought we had put this behind us, girl.”
Francine’s breathing, coming in quick gasps again, accelerated to yet another shriek.
A loud smash reverberated around the room.
As I turned, I had just enough time to see the mirror on Lady Wilson’s vanity smashed, shards scattering all over the table.
Francine reached for one. In the next breath, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward her. Caught off guard, I was too stunned to resist.
She shoved me down to me knees and pressed the edge of the shard against my neck.
“Iris!” Nash shouted but he did not move toward me.
“You foolish girl…” Lady Wi
lson said, positively quivering. “What could you possibly gain from this?”
I heard the frantic breathing of the girl behind me. I did my best not to move, hardly daring to breathe. The piece of glass bit down into my flesh, burning white hot.
“I have nothing left!” Francine cried. “I can have no joy, no peace…for you have stolen them all from me!”
“Because I did my part ensuring you did not marry that scoundrel?” Lady Wilson asked.
“I am old enough to make my own decisions!” Francine cried.
Lady Wilson shook her head. “You little fool. Did you hear nothing of what I told you that day? That boy was nothing but trouble. He would have left you as soon as he could, as soon as he found someone of greater value. You may have a pretty face, girl, but that does not guarantee you happiness.”
Francine whimpered behind me and a warm droplet struck the skin of my neck; the glass must have cut into her hand.
“Sometimes it is difficult to hear that those around us see us heading toward something that would be bad for us,” Nash interrupted in a low voice. “But you must realize my aunt only wished to protect you – ”
“I didn’t need protecting!” Francine said. “And you! You! I see the way you look at this seamstress!”
The blade pressed more tightly to my throat. The burning increased, causing me to wince and my eyes to water. Fear coursed through my veins.
“I see how you and she have been speaking, the way you look at each other,” Francine spat. “It is just how William and I were. So…if you want her life to be spared, then you will do just as I ask.”
Mr. Carter, Lady Wilson, and Nash remained silent. Mr. Carter’s gaze swept around the room. Clearly, he was in the middle of formulating a plan. Lady Wilson’s hard eyes were fixed on Francine.
Nash could only look at me, and I at him.
The fear in his face made my stomach twist into knots. This was worse than I thought, wasn’t it? If there was hope, then I would have been able to see it on his face…