Page 23 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford (Regency Murder and Marriage #4)

THE DISAPPEARANCE—AND possible murder—of a maid occupied the house guests so fully that Rob felt quite confident that he could sit beside Eudora at breakfast, without anyone passing comment.

He had spent the night longing to be near her and could not endure being separated from her a moment longer.

“Which maid is missing?” Eudora whispered to him once the footman had disappeared to fetch their food.

The only descriptor Robert could think of for the missing maid was buxom—for this was what Higgins had called her when he had imparted the news.

Rob was momentarily silent as he searched his inner lexicon for any other word to describe the girl.

He knew little of the female of the species, but even he knew that ladies were never keen on men pointing out another woman’s physical endowments.

To his surprise, Eudora giggled as she noted the discomfort on his face.

“From the look on your face, my lord, I can hazard a guess,” she continued, her eyes dancing. “How strange; I can’t see how Mable might be connected to the murder?”

Robert blinked as he recalled the conversation he had overheard between the unidentified female and Lord Albermay just the day before. The same thought must have occurred to Eudora, for her mouth opened in an “o” of inspiration.

“Mable was the person you heard arguing with Lord Albermay,” Eudora exclaimed, breathless. “Tell me, exactly, what it was you overheard.”

Rob wracked his brain, trying to recall what he’d heard. He had always thought himself the type of chap who was good under pressure, but as Eudora waited for his reply, he became suddenly terrified that he might disappoint her.

“If you expect me to confess to that, it’s more than a bag of coins you’ll owe me,” he said, quoting Mable verbatim. “That’s the only bit I heard clearly before Mable stormed out.”

Eudora nodded, her expression thoughtful.

“It would be helpful if we knew what it was that Lord Albermay wanted her to confess to,” Rob continued, too-late realising that he was somewhat stating the obvious.

“It can’t have been the murder, for no servant in their right mind would do that.”

A member of the gentry just might escape hanging for murder, but a servant would certainly not.

“Perhaps it was a lovers’ quarrel,” Rob ventured; it was not unheard of for ungentlemanly gentlemen to dally with the household staff. Lord Albermay, Rob guessed, would have had no qualms in taking liberties with a maid.

“It’s the most likely explanation,” Eudora agreed, her voice calm but her cheeks showing the slightest hint of a blush.

Robert was momentarily assaulted by a violent need to kiss her again, but his lustful urges were interrupted by the footman, who placed a plate of kippers before him.

They fell into silence as they ate. Rob attacked his plate with more gusto than usual, famished after his nighttime adventures.

His gaze slipped down the table to the other guests. Lady Albermay appeared much brighter than she had the day before despite the awful news. Captain Ledger, too, was noticeably less tense around the shoulders.

They must think that the disappearance of Mable exonerated them, Rob realised. While it was true that the pair were unlikely to have committed a double murder, the bloodstains on Lady Albermay’s dress still weighed heavily on Rob’s mind.

He had no time to dwell further. Mr and Mrs Mifford arrived at the dining room, and Mrs Mifford made a beeline straight for Rob and Eudora.

“Why, look at you both sitting together, thick as thieves,” Mrs Mifford cried, causing everyone at the table to turn to look.

Eudora squirmed in her seat, but Robert took her mother’s machinations in his stride. They were on the same side, after all. Mrs Mifford wanted Robert to marry her daughter and, after last night, that outcome was also Robert’s deepest wish.

“Terrible news about the maid,” Mrs Mifford continued as she settled into her seat. “We met Flora on the way down; she was in an awful state. I advised her to skip the herbal tinctures and go straight for the medicinal wine to calm her nerves.”

“What sage advice, dear,” Mr Mifford commented, “That’s just what Jane needs—one maid missing, one maid drunk.”

“What exactly did Flora say happened?” Eudora interjected before Mrs Mifford could mount a response to her husband’s jibe.

“She told us that one of the maids woke this morning to find that the other maid she shares a room with was missing. There was a pool of blood on the floor, which everyone has taken to mean that the poor girl was murdered,” Mr Mifford said before mildly adding, “Though I do find when people jump to conclusions, that they usually land in the wrong place.”

“You can’t blame people for thinking the poor girl murdered,” Mrs Mifford argued, “After what happened with Lord Albermay. Why, we could have some sort of crazed killer in our midst, eager to pick us off one by one.”

Robert thought Mrs Mifford sounded quite excited rather than afraid. He watched her gaze around the room, her eyes landing on Mrs Canards and Mrs Wickling. They narrowed thoughtfully, and Rob realised that Mrs Mifford would have no trouble rustling up a to-do list for the murderer.

“Look, there’s the dowager duchess,” Mrs Mifford hissed as Cecilia entered the room. “I want to be the first to tell her the news.”

With a flourish, she stood and hurried across the room to the unsuspecting duchess.

“Gossip is a form of currency, for some people,” Mr Mifford explained to Robert before dryly adding, “If you were hoping for a quick escape, now is the time to do so.”

“Now that you mention it, I do have some correspondence to catch up on in the library,” Rob said, hoping that Eudora would take the hint.

He departed the dining room with a curt nod to the other guests and made for Lord Crabb’s library.

There, he found the room empty, bar a cheerful fire burning in the grate.

He paced the Axminster carpet for a few minutes until Eudora arrived, slightly breathless.

“Forgive me, I was waylaid by Jane asking me to return some of the dresses I have borrowed from her,” she said, explaining the delay.

“She’s usually the best sister to borrow things from, as she doesn’t often ask for them back.

However, her wardrobe is near empty from pilfering due to so many unexpected guests. ”

She trailed off, casting him an apologetic glance.

“I’m sorry; I’m sure you don’t have a particular interest in the sisterly politics of borrowing clothes.”

“I feel honoured to be included in your domestic intimacies,” Rob answered sincerely. Then, as he had sisters of his own and knew well how easily the topic of borrowing clothes could turn violent, he changed the subject.

“Tell me your thoughts on Mable’s disappearance,” he said, “How on earth do you think we should investigate it?”

Eudora visibly preened at his words.

“I don’t think we can declare it a murder without a body,” she said quickly.

He nodded in agreement, for he had been thinking the same thing. Mable’s disappearance may be nothing more than a ruse to distract.

“If only we knew what caused the argument betwixt her and Lord Albermay,” Robert said, his eyes following Eudora as she made her way to the window.

She turned her face to the sun outside, and Robert felt a distinct stir of desire. She was so beautiful, her thick, chestnut hair piled high above her heart-shaped face. Her side profile also allowed him to appreciate her figure, which was all gentle curves and generous bosom.

“We should ask Flora if she saw anything—no one knows the goings-on of a household better than a maid,” she decided, whirling around to face him.

“Er, yes—indeed!” Rob answered, compensating for his momentary distraction with an enthusiasm that made Eudora suspicious.

“You think it a silly idea?” she asked, her tone somewhat hurt.

“I don’t, not at all.” Rob said firmly before deciding that honestly was the best policy, “I just became a bit distracted by your loveliness, that’s all.”

The compliment rendered Eudora lovelier again as her cheeks turned a rose pink.

Lud, Rob thought, he’d achieve nothing of note after they were married, for he’d spend the rest of his days mooning over his wife.

“Do you think we should seek Flora out now?” Eudora asked.

There were a hundred other things that Rob wished to do at that moment, but as every one of them would cause a terrible scandal, he demurred to her suggestion.

“Lead the way,” he replied with a gallantry that was not quite pure.

If he couldn’t ravish Eudora’s lips in the library, he could at least enjoy the view of her behind on the way to the kitchens.

Miss Flora Hughes was a bird-like slip of a girl, who—Rob had learned on their journey to the kitchen—made all sorts of lotions and potions.

It was usual for a grand house to have a still room, where fruits were preserved, alcohol fermented, and healing creams and salves concocted.

What was unusual about Flora, Eudora had explained, was that she had not learned her skills from a book.

Rather, it was knowledge passed down from her grandmother, the local healer.

“Have you come to ask me if I put a hex on Mable?” Flora asked darkly as she followed Eudora and Rob into a cool, dark room adjunct the pantry.

Rob raised a brow but kept his counsel. He usually found that when people muttered dark asides, they had a grievance to air.

The door closed behind them with a click, prompting Flora to speak again now that she knew there was a barrier between her and her fellow servants.

“It’s like being a child again, Miss Eudora,” she said, turning her orb-like eyes to Eudora and completely ignoring Rob, the stranger. “Everyone whispering behind their hands that I’m a witch. They’re saying that I cursed Mable so that the murderer would take her away in the dead’o’t’night.”

“Why on earth would they think that, Flora?” Eudora queried, asking the question at the forefront of Rob’s mind.