“The servants are asking questions about the inspector’s visit, Miss Stroud,” she said.
Nadia rubbed her temple. “Tell Mrs. Renwick that I will address them soon.”
“Should I ask his lordship’s valet to wake the viscount?”
“No, no, not yet. Let him rest.” Nadia glanced at Jasper. “My grandfather has been taking a draught to calm himself. He’ll be better once Frederick is home from London.”
Ursula, handing the filled teacup and saucer to Decamp, nearly made a hash of it as her hands and wrists shook violently, rattling the porcelain. “So sorry,” she squeaked before stepping back and clasping her hands behind her.
Jasper wondered if it had been the mention of Frederick that had flustered her. He had, after all, reprimanded her harshly outside the billiards room a few nights ago.
“Ursula, I overheard a terse conversation on the night of the storm between yourself and Mr. Cowper. He told you to mind your own business if you’d like to keep your position here,” Jasper said, and at the instant draining of color from her already wan cheeks, he was glad he’d brought it up. He’d asked Frederick about the encounter, but not her. “What was he referring to?”
Frederick had been vague about it, saying it was some gossip and trouble the maid was prone to stirring up. But as Ursula’s wide-eyed terror flicked between Nadia and Decamp, he found himself wanting more specifics.
“Ursula.” Nadia’s tone was sharp enough to make the maid jump. “Answer the inspector’s question.”
“I’m so sorry, miss,” she said, her eyes beginning to fill. “I made a mistake. An awful one, and I feel terrible about it. I thought for certain Mr. Cowper was going to sack me then and there. I fear he still might.”
Jasper held up his hand. “Slow down, Ursula. What mistake was this?”
She was now twisting her fingers together before her, looking nauseous. “It was when Mrs. Stroud was ill. I found her in bed, asleep, but she’d been writing a letter on the breakfast tray in her lap. I gathered the tray and was putting the papers and pen backon her writing desk, and…well…I couldn’t help but read some of the lines.” The maid winced. “I shouldn’t have done it, I know I shouldn’t have, but before I knew it, I’d read several more.”
Jasper had an inkling as to what letter the maid had seen. “Who was this letter addressed to?”
“The envelope was addressed to you, Inspector. And Miss Spencer,” she answered, her chin quivering.
Nadia stared at the maid. “You read the private letter my mother gave to her solicitor for Inspector Reid and Miss Spencer?”
Ursula emitted a little whine of desperation. “Not all of it! Just a few sentences. As soon as I came to my senses, I stopped and put it away. I swear! I didn’t realize how important the letter was, not until after the will reading.”
“Its importance doesn’t matter. You should not have been reading your lady’s private correspondence at all,” Decamp said with the typical sternness of a butler.
“What happened after the reading, Ursula?” Jasper asked to stave off another reprimand from Nadia.
The maid quailed but answered, “I was bringing fresh towels to Mrs. Dalton’s room. It was before dinner, and she was telling Dora about the secret letter to the inspector and Miss Spencer, and how everyone was in an uproar. I remembered the letter I’d seen, and I didn’t mean to say anything, but I did. I said,‘Thatletter?’ And when Mrs. Dalton asked me what I knew of it… Well, I’m an awful liar. So, I confessed.”
“Did you tell Mrs. Dalton what you’d read?” Jasper asked, and when she nodded, he continued, “What, exactly, did you tell her?”
Depending on how far into Francine Stroud’s letter she’d read, Helen might have learned that her mother had suspected her of having a hand in Teddy’s death. It might have spurredher on to leave for London and the Craven Hill residence in the middle of the night.
“First, she sent Dora from the room,” Ursula said. “Then, I told her what I could remember. That Mrs. Stroud had asked you and Miss Spencer to find justice for her son, Teddy.”
“What?” Nadia exclaimed. “Why would Teddy need justice? His fall was an accident.”
“I just know what I read, Miss Stroud,” Ursula said, quivering in fear. “Something about a glass vial belonging to Helen—Mrs. Dalton, I mean—and that someone who possessed it was on the roof with Teddy that night.” Here, the maid cast her terrified eyes to the floor, her cheeks heating under Nadia’s flaying glare. “Mrs. Stroud wrote that she’d hidden it under a floorboard in the old house. That’s where I stopped reading, I swear it. I don’t know anything more than that.”
Christ. It at least answered how Helen had known to get to London as soon as possible. She must have dashed off a note to Stephen immediately, setting her plan in motion to leave Cowper Fields that night. She’d wanted to get to the vial first.
But why? Jasper and Leo already knew about the vial clutched in Teddy’s hand. A tear catcher that had traces of floral perfume inside. Taking possession of the vial itself seemed unnecessary. Francine Stroud had mentioned in her letter that recently, she’d started to doubt her suspicion of Helen and wished for the vial to be returned to her. However, that revelation had come at the close of the letter, a part which Ursula had apparently not read.
“Someone was on the roof with Teddy when he fell?” Nadia asked as she moved toward her two dogs, both of which were still sitting obediently.
“Possibly,” Jasper confirmed. “Your mother found the glass vial clutched in his hand when she came upon his body. Andbefore she was killed, Helen succeeded in finding it under the floorboard.”
“But…why did my mother never say anything about it?” Nadia asked.
Grateful he’d thought to keep the vial in his pocket, Jasper brought it out, holding the slim glass tube between his thumb and forefinger.
