He nodded, eyes downcast, and took his leave.
Fiona shifted the basket to one hip and held out her hand for the flowers. “I’ll take them to the stillroom and put them in water for ya.”
“Thank you, Fiona.”
Margaret walked upstairs, through the servery, and past the dining room toward the front of the house. She felt her hands perspiring and wiped them on her apron. She had no reason to be nervous, she told herself. But her accelerating pulse paid her no heed.
She stepped inside the morning room, hands clasped before her. The man sat at the modest table, bald head dipped over the tea someone had brought him. Betty or Mrs. Budgeon most likely.
He looked up, and her nerves gave a little start. Did she know him? Or was it just the surprise of his youthful unlined face beneath the incongruous bald head?
He set down his cup and rose. “Nora, is it?”
She nodded.
He gestured toward one of the other chairs around the table. “Won’t you be seated?”
She sat primly on the edge of the chair across the table from his, posture erect, hands clasped in her lap. If he looked familiar to her, might she look familiar to him?
He resumed his seat. “And what is your surname, if I may ask?”
“Garret.”
With a stubby drawing pencil, he jotted her name in a small notebook. “Nora Garret. And how long have you been in service here?”
“A few months now.”
One sable eyebrow rose. “A newcomer, then. Have there been any other new arrivals to the house?”
“Besides Mr. Hudson, you mean?”
He nodded, adding, “And not necessarily among the servant ranks.”
She shook her head. “Only me, sir.”
“And where were you before that?”
She shifted on her chair and primed her tongue to deliver her best working-class accent. “London, sir. But wha’ has that to do with Mr. Lewis? Is that not why you’ve come?”
“Who told you that?”
“Why, Connor, sir.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, regarding her. “London, you say? Perhaps that is why you seem familiar. I may have seen you there.”
She swallowed. “Perhaps. Though London is an awful big place.”
He nodded vaguely. “So, working behind the scenes here, I imagine you’ve learnt quite a lot about the Upchurch family. Their comings and goings. Their affections and arguments. What they are capable of.”
“A bit. Though maids don’t mix with the family much, do they?”
“Don’t they? You tell me.”
“I did see Lewis Upchurch coming in a few times early of a morning, as though he’d been out all night. That’s why I thought maybe he had a lady friend nearby. I assume Mr. Upchurch mentioned it and that’s why you’ve asked to see me?”
He studied her through narrowed eyes. “I’m not really certain anymore.”
Keeping his focus on her, he withdrew something from his coat pocket and laid it on the table beside his saucer.
