She found she did prefer that. So, after stepping behind the trifold screen, she removed her nightdress and took her garments one by one from the maid. Afterward, Ursula guided her toward a mirrored dresser, where she insisted Leo sit and let her style her hair. As this task was one that she’d never been very patient with, nor fond of, Leo assented without complaint. The maid happily shook loose the hasty plait Leo had created the night before and began to brush her dark hair with a soft-bristled hairbrush.
“I usually style it in a low bun or sometimes, I pin it up, but…” Leo shrugged, more than aware that fashion was not her forte. It had never seemed to matter much, considering she was usually only going to work at the morgue.
Ursula smiled as she started to expertly loop, twist, and pin strands of Leo’s hair. She watched carefully in the mirror’s reflection, so that she could remember the steps later. When finished, her hair was pinned up in a lovely loose bun, circled by a thin braid. A few artful strands of hair had been left to frame her face, curled with the help of a hot iron.
“There, miss,” the maid said proudly as she stepped back to admire her work. Leo did as well, turning her head side to side while gazing in the mirror.
“It’s beautifully done, Ursula. Much better than I could ever do for myself.” She acknowledged that there were now three things she would miss about Cowper Fields.
“It shows off your heart-shaped face,” the maid complimented. Then, her smile grew conspiratorial. “I’m sure the detective inspector will notice. Is it true you and he are a couple, miss?”
Leo met the maid’s eyes in the mirror, taken aback. “Who has told you that?”
Ursula’s eyes widened, again with guilty terror. “It’s just what a few other servants were saying, miss. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business,” she said, then started to tidy up the brush, hairpins, and hot iron. “I keep mucking everything up lately, saying the wrong thing. Do forgive me, miss.”
Leo stood up from the cushioned stool. “There is no need to keep apologizing, Ursula. You’ve said nothing wrong. You are right. We are a…couple.” It felt strange to say it, but also remarkably satisfying.
Ursula paused, her contrition transforming to girlish glee. Before she could say anything, Leo held up her hand. “It is new. Very new.”
And that was exactly why Jasper had been wise to rein in their kiss last night.
“And the inspector doesn’t mind that you work with the dead?” Ursula asked next, though as soon as she finished her question, her eyelids popped wide again. No doubt horrified she’d said something wrong again.
“He doesn’t mind,” Leo answered, smiling at the idea of the servants whispering about her belowstairs. She understood howstrange she must seem to them, considering they served proper ladies and gentlemen.
“I’ve never met a lady like you before, miss,” Ursula said as she continued to the other side of the changing screen to gather the discarded nightdress.
“I’m not a lady,” Leo was quick to note. “Not a titled one, at least.”
“Well, you’re much nicer than any of the ladies in this house,” she replied, then froze. “But I shouldn’t say that.”
Leo was about to assure her, once again, that she would keep the maid’s confidence when the door to the attached sitting room opened.
“Miss Spencer?” a voice called.
It was the housekeeper, Mrs. Renwick, whom Leo had met briefly the previous day. Ursula straightened like a soldier as the older woman entered.
“Good morning, Miss Spencer,” she said with heavy breaths, her eyes darting around restlessly. “I was hoping to find Mrs. Dalton with you.”
“We’re not meeting until eight o’clock,” Leo explained.
Mrs. Renwick turned to the maid. “Haveyouseen Mrs. Dalton, Ursula?”
The maid shook her head, the lace on her mobcap trembling.
“Is something wrong?” Leo asked, a crimp in her stomach beginning to form.
The housekeeper’s lips pursed. “It seems she cannot be found.”
“Mrs. Dalton wasn’t in her room when her maid entered this morning?” Leo asked, presuming that her maid would have done exactly as Ursula had with her.
“Dora said the bed hadn’t been slept in,” Mrs. Renwick revealed.
Leo squeezed her eyes shut and dragged in a breath. Helen Dalton had left the manor during the night. Leo had a good guess as to why.
“I need to see Inspector Reid, Mrs. Renwick,” she said.
The housekeeper led Leo to the breakfast room, where Jasper was standing in close conference with Mr. Corman and the butler, Decamp. The viscount sat at the head of the table, reading a newspaper and eating. When Jasper turned to greet her, she fought back the errant memory of his palm gripping the back of her thigh and the deep stroke of his tongue and instead forced her mind to the problem at hand.
