Page 105 of Death at a Highland Wedding

Catching Gray’s look of dismay, I hurry on. “Which is useful.”

“You are like a governess,” McCreadie says. “I once had a flirtation with one, and she said it was much the same for them. They are employees, but of elevated social backgrounds with good educations, and therefore she was not considered part of the staff. Rather more like a poor relation.”

“You had a flirtation with your governess?”

His cheeks heat, and he wags a finger at me. “Agoverness. Not mine. Though mine was very pretty. I did notice that. A lad never forgets the first woman who teaches him verb conjugation.”

I laugh. “At least you didn’t say the first woman who straps him.”

McCreadie sputters and then glares at Gray.

“Why are you looking at me?” Gray says.

“As a woman in your household, she is your responsibility. Rein in that tongue of hers, old chap.”

“Like to see him try,” I say.

McCreadie grins. “That sounds like a challenge, Duncan.”

Is it my imagination or does Gray blush?

“I would not attempt it,” Gray says finally, “as I value Mallory’s help nearly as much as I value my life, both of which I would be in danger of losing if I tried to constrain her. Now, pulling you both back from your fun, the maid we must speak to is Dorothy. She will have finished her shift by the time we return, so that will need to wait until morning. Tonight, we interview Mr. Müller, whose cottage I believe I can see.”

I approach the cottage alone. That’s McCreadie’s idea, reasoning that Müller will probably answer the door for me. Grayreallydoesn’t like it. But they stay near enough to intercede.

As soon as I draw near, I suspect all this has been for naught. It’sgrowing dark, but no light comes from inside the cottage. Müller must still be out.

I knock. No answer—or answering noise from within. I knock again and then move to one of the two windows and shade my eyes to peer in. It’s dark and empty.Veryempty. All I see are a table and chairs, with a hearth and wood piled beside it. There aren’t any personal items in sight. Either Müller never made this place a real home or he’s already preparing to move out.

At that thought, I move quickly to the other window, worry percolating in my gut. This one looks into the bedroom. It’s unshuttered, and I can peer inside. I have to find a good angle to see anything, but when I do, I can make out a bed and a dressing table… and nothing more.

I take two steps into the forest, and Gray appears.

“This is definitely Müller’s cottage, right?” I say.

“Of course.”

“You and Hugh searched it. How empty was it?”

“How empty?”

“What is the matter?” McCreadie walks over, undergrowth crunching beneath his boots.

“I can see inside, and there’s nothing but furniture. Either Müller is extremely tidy or he’s gone.”

McCreadie curses and strides around the cottage. He pulls open the door, which isn’t locked. Inside, he lights a lantern as Gray and I join him.

I wasn’t missing anything from my vantage points. The place is abandoned. We still search, checking in drawers and the single wardrobe.

“He’s bolted,” I say. Then I glance at the men. “Yes, it’s also possible he realized he wasn’t going to keep his job, packed his things, and stormed off in a huff, but I think we need to presume the worst.”

“That he realized we were closing in,” McCreadie says. “At the very least, he heard we had summoned Lenore back. He already knew we had found her belongings here.”

“Where would he go?” I say. It’s not as if he can call for a cab.

“He would walk to the village and then, from there, get to a coach or train station.”

“Is there an inn in town? Someplace he could stay?”