“How could you have it killed?”
“Killed?” Neville came up off the couch as though it had suddenly caught fire and backed away. “You had it killed?”
“It was necessary in order to protect her andyou, your position, to ensure it did not return to haunt us. Look at the Duke of Hedley. His bastard lived and is now married to his ward, of all people. The scandal of it. If people learned of what Lavinia had done, the trouble she’d gotten herself into, it could have ruined your prospects for a good marriage as well. I did what needed to be done for your heritage and legacy. Your father not only agreed but wholeheartedly approved.”
Shaking his head, Neville looked at Lavinia. “I feel like such a fool. I had no earthly idea you’d gone through all this. What a wretched brother I’ve been.”
She had been a fool as well for holding out hope her mother was not the monster she’d come to suspect she was.
“I’m glad,” her mother said. “I’m glad we are rid of it.”
Lavinia was barely aware of launching herself at the hideous crone. The slap she’d delivered to her mother years earlier was nothing compared to the one she now delivered with such force it sent the woman flying off the sofa.
Having spent his early years on the streets, Robin had a keen sense when it came to trouble being afoot, so as he neared the kitchens in anticipation of enjoying a warm biscuit, he was acutely aware of the weight of unnatural silence in the hallways leading to his destination. Slowing his step, rising up on his toes, he crept toward the doorway where the aromas of beef juices and oranges wafted out.
Peering inside, he barely made out a dining hall—for the servants, he supposed—those within standing at the table or against the wall, none of them moving, not even appearing to be breathing, their eyes wide and unblinking, their mouths slightly agape. Not that he blamed them. He was familiar with the sight of barely leashed retribution waiting to pounce, and Finn Trewlove wore it as easily as any other man might trousers.
“I find it difficult to believe that not a single one of you knows anything about a child born in this residence and taken out into the night seven years ago. I know damned well the countess herself didn’t deliver the babe to a baby farmer, so to which of you did she hand it off in order to see the deed done without getting her own hands dirty?”
If at all possible, the silence increased. Robin thought if one of them whispered it would sound like a shout in the deafening hush.
“Sir, if I might so bold,” began a man he recognized as the butler who had greeted him and Miss Kent when they’d first arrived, “the ladies of this residence are above reproach. I believe you’re barking up the wrong tree, sir.”
“Servants know everything that happens above the stairs, even if they pretend to be ignorant of it. Which one of you is Miriam?” Finn asked, not deigning to even acknowledge the older man.
A young woman with red hair hesitantly raised her hand, wiggling her trembling fingers. “I am, sir.”
“The lady’s maid? The one who betrayed her?”
“No, sir. I would never—”
“Yet you did. What became of the child?”
The woman glanced around. “Please, sir, not here, not in front of everyone.”
“The rest of you, out!” he bellowed.
The remainder of the servants scrambled hastily out of the doorway as though fleeing a fire, causing Robin to have to press himself against the wall to avoid being trampled. While he considered traipsing after them to ensure his own safety and to nick a biscuit, his curiosity was too great, and so he stayed.
Finn had come in through the servants’ entrance and immediately taken control of the situation, the staff, and the area below the stairs. After gathering the servants into the room where they shared meals, he demanded to know what they knew of Lady Lavinia’s child. Perhaps he should have done more to protect her reputation, but he was beyond caring about that and suspected she was as well. Something greater was at stake.
Yet the servants had remained mute, and he didn’t know if it was out of ignorance or loyalty to the family, to the girl who had once lived here.
He would put the maid who now stood before him as being close in age to Vivi. “You told the earl that his daughter planned to run off.”
She gave a brisk nod. “She was deserving of better than a commoner.”
Although he wondered if it was her own position she’d been more concerned with. Certainly, Vivi would have taken her maidservant with her to the duke’s residence, elevating her status among the help. Lady’s maid to a duchess was a much loftier title than maid to a commoner’s wife. Not that he’d have been able to afford her at the time.
“What do you know of the child’s fate?”
“Nothing at all. Her ladyship’s mother took it from the bedchamber, and that is the last I saw of it.”
“You don’t know to whom she gave it?”
The woman shook her head. “But you’re quite right. She would have given it to someone, a footman most likely. I haven’t a clue regarding which one. Is Lady Lavinia safe? Is my lady well?”
“Crikey, she’s here,” a young voice said.
