As they returned downstairs, the housekeeper invited Kitty to take tea in her parlor. Perhaps she hoped to be refused, but Kitty accepted and asked Henry to join them.
The housekeeper had quarters just off the kitchen—a small parlor and an even smaller bedroom, but very cozy. Kitty shed her layers. The tea was good, as were the sweet buns.
As she poured, Mrs. Grant said, “Are you likely to be using the house soon, my lady? I hope it’s not impertinent to ask, but it will be grand if so.”
“Not soon, Mrs. Grant—there is much to do at Beauchamp Abbey—but probably next year for the season.”
“Oh, that will be grand, my lady.”
Henry spoke then. “There’s some as think that being in a closed house with no work to do is a treat, my lady, but most don’t find it so. There’s still plenty to do to keep up the place, and the servants reduced to almost nothing.”
“You have it exactly, Miss Oldswick,” Mrs. Grant said. “I find it hard to keep good servants, even on full pay, for there’s no excitement, you see, and no vails.”
Ah. The gratuities guests would pay.
“Were you lively here earlier in the year?” Kitty asked.
“Lively, ma’am?”
“When the fifth viscount was in Town for Parliament.”
“We didn’t see much of him, my lady. The house was kept in readiness, but he mostly stayed at his club.”
More ridiculous waste.
“I suppose it is large for a single man.” That wasn’t quite the right term for an abandoned husband, but Kitty couldn’t think of a better. She was trying to frame a question about the house in the time of Diane Dauntry when she realized Mrs. Grant wouldn’t have been here then. “Who was housekeeper before you, Mrs. Grant?”
“Mrs. Hopgood, ma’am. She died.”
“Were any of the servants here then?”
“No, ma’am.”
It was as if Diane Dauntry had vanished beyond an impenetrable veil.Because someone wanted it that way?Kitty tried not to let Gothic novels influence her, but there was something odd in the Braydon family story.
She accepted another cup of tea. “Is there any matter that needs attention, Mrs. Grant, or any improvements you’d suggest?”
“There’s no problems with the upkeep, ma’am. Mr. Southern, his lordship’s man of business in London, pays all bills for such and inspects the house at times. If the family were to be in residence, ma’am, one of the new water boilers would be useful, so as to have hot water readily available. And, perhaps, a Rumford stove in the kitchen?”
“I’ll discuss it with Lord Dauntry,” Kitty promised.
She would have liked to wander the rooms again and perhaps unshroud some furniture and paintings in search of clues about Diane. That would be a waste of everyone’s time, so they took their leave.
Once they were in a hackney, Edward made his report. “The two maids are her nieces, milady, but both seem sensible girls and good workers. Comfortable in a situation like that to have family around. I caught a suggestion that Mrs. Grant might not be as robust as she seems.”
Henry said, “I noticed that her ankles were badly swollen.”
“So she might be glad of an easy position,” Kitty said.
She had a number of thoughts about the fifth viscount and his wife, but didn’t want to share them with Edward. Once they were back at Braydon’s rooms, she intended to go over them with Henry, but Sillikin expressed rapture at her return and an insistence on a walk. A long walk.Now.
“If Cook’s been feeding you tidbits, you’ll need it,” Kitty said. “Come along, then. Henry, you can stay here.”
The park was quiet at this time of year, so Kitty let Sillikin off the leash and had Edward throw the leather ball, for he could send it farther. After retrieving the third throw, Sillikin was racing back when she paused, turned, and ran in another direction, toward a pair of strapping young men in long cloaks over scarlet regimentals.
One bent to take the ball and ruffle Sillikin’s fur, then threw it again. The men came over to Kitty, grinning.
“Kit Kat, as I live and breathe!” declared Captain Claudius Debenham. “Town’s alive again.”
