His voice came from the same direction as the woman’s had. Nathan’s nostrils flared as the scent of boot polish and pomade became even stronger.
Was Marshall standing there the entire time? He cannot have been. He would not stand there silently while I flounder. He is my most trusted man.
“Marshall, thank the Lord. Where is Miss Stamford?” Nathan demanded.
“Perhaps we can discuss the matter in private, Your Grace. I have news that you will not like to hear.”
“Yes, yes, yes. In the study if you please.”
Nathan turned on his heel and walked back into the study, hearing Marshall follow and the doors close behind.
“Out with it man. My patience is thin,” Nathan said, turning in the direction he believed Marshall would be standing in.
“She has left this house having availed herself of several items of jewelry, money, and clothing. I discovered the theft some fifteen minutes ago, Your Grace,” Marshall began.
“Stolen? I made it clear to her that the wardrobes I gave to her were hers to do with as she would.”
“And the money, Your Grace? Which is kept in the locked metal box in your travel chest.”
“She took that?”
“She did, Your Grace. I had no idea that she knew of its location.”
“I did not tell her,” Nathan said.
But she has had the opportunity to discover it and was left alone in this house for several hours. No! She is no thief!
“I cannot believe this, Marshall,” he said.
“Nor can I, Your Grace. It is inexplicable,” Marshall replied.
“Is there a drink in this room?” Nathan said, feeling around for a chair.
The sound of one being moved to his back came to him and he found it with his hand, sitting in it with a sigh.
“No, but shall I have brandy sent for?” Marshall asked.
“Do,” Nathan replied, running a hand across his forehead. “Has the crime been reported?”
“Not as of yet, Your Grace. I thought it prudent to ascertain your wishes on the matter,” Marshall replied.
So plausible. The trust I put in you is so absolute that you know I cannot tolerate the idea of betrayal as coming from you. And yet with every fiber of my being, I sense that you have become an enemy. Perhaps not of me directly. But, of Gemma, and by extension, of me.
“I shall think on it,” Nathan said noncommittally. “Who is the young woman I spoke to a moment ago?”
Marshall paused. “That is Charlotte, Your Grace. A lady's maid taken on for Miss Carlisle and temporarily assigned to your houseguest, Miss Stamford.”
I know that very well.
“Have her attend to me. Remember, in a strange house I require a member of staff to be in attendance at all times.”
“Then it shall be my pleasure to attend to Your Grace,” Marshall said.
Nathan paused for a moment, struck by what amounted to a refusal to obey an order. Marshall would never be so crass as to say no, but he had suggested an alternative to the instruction he had been given, a de facto refusal. It was remarkable. Unprecedented.
What is going on in this house? In this city! Walter Carlisle has been turned against me by the worst kind of blackguard and now my most trusted servant defies me!
“You have far too many duties. Have Charlotte sent for. She will do for guiding me about the house,” Nathan replied.
