He could tell she wasn’t but decided to let it go. “I thought we might use this room because it has a good writing desk. Collins,” he called. “Help me move the writing desk to the center of the room. I don’t want Lady Rosalie to have to crane her neck.”
A look of surprise came across Collins’s face at the suggestion that his master might like to lift the furniture himself. “Allow me to summon the footmen, my lord.”
“No need.” Lucian already had his hands on one end of the table, and the butler hurried to take the other side. “We mustn’t keep Lady Rosalie waiting,” he said as they moved it away from the wall.
Once it was in place, Lucian grabbed the chair and brought it over, too, holding it out for her with a flourish. “My lady.”
“Thank you,” she said crisply, taking a seat.
“Were you able to speak with Dr. Hutchinson?”
“I was not.” She had busied herself arranging paper, pen, and inkwell, and Lucian rather thought she was avoiding his gaze. “I called on him this morning, but he was out visiting a patient. I’ll try again this afternoon.”
“I see.” Lucian reached into his breast pocket. “I had Collins compile this list of the household staff and the length of their tenure. As you can see, there are six servants who have been here since my grandfather’s time.” He turned to his butler. “If you would be so kind as to gather everyone on the list. Lady Rosalie will speak to them one at a time.”
Collins bowed and quit the room. Rosalie eyed him warily.
He cleared his throat. “I have instructed the servants to answer your questions with complete honesty.”
She arched a brow. “And you think they will comply? Would it not risk their position if they were to say something you would rather I not hear?”
“It would not, but I understand the reason for your concern. How about this—I shall leave the room. I will not be privy to whatever they did or did not tell you unless you choose to share it.”
After considering for a minute, Rosalie nodded. “I think that will be for the best.”
The first witness was Mrs. Robinson, who had served as cook at Deverell House for more than ten years.
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Rosalie gestured to the Chippendale chair that had been positioned facing the desk. “Please, have a seat.”
Mrs. Robinson eyed the chair warily, then glanced back at Rosalie as if she was unsure if she was really allowed to sit upon the fancy furniture. At Rosalie’s nod, she settled gingerly into the chair.
Rosalie began pouring a cup of tea. “How do you take your tea, Mrs. Robinson?”
Now Mrs. Robinson really looked startled. “Oh! Just with a splash of cream. Thank you, my lady.”
Rosalie passed her the cup. “I understand that you served as the fifth viscount’s cook for eight years. Is that right?”
“It is, my lady.”
“What was the fifth Lord Valentine like?”
Mrs. Robinson smiled. “There’s a reason I stayed on as long as I did. Good-natured, that’s the word for the fifth viscount. He had a cheerful disposition. Some employers will find somethingwrong with every meal. Not his lordship. I don’t think I heard a word of complaint in all the time I was here. In fact, he would very often send his compliments to the chef.” She laughed blackly. “It’s just a shame his lordship didn’t pass that particular quality on to his grandson.”
Rosalie leaned forward eagerly. “You’re referring to the present Lord Valentine?”
Mrs. Robinson’s eyes went wide with genuine surprise. “Oh, no, my lady! I meant his cousin.Lysander.” She spoke his name as if it were a foul curse.
Now it was Rosalie’s turn to be surprised, because unlike Lucian, Lysander had a pristine reputation. “Really? What would Lysander do?”
Mrs. Robinson leaned forward in her chair. “He moved in about four years ago. We all thought it made sense at the time, as once his grandfather’s memory started to go, it went fast. Well, that first day, he told me he wanted goose for supper. Not a problem. I’ve been a cook for almost forty years now. I certainly know how to roast a goose. I went over to the market at Smithfield, but the few geese they had didn’t look very good. I tried Newport Market as well and stopped in at a few local butcher shops that I knew and trusted, but there wasn’t a decent-looking goose to be had. So, I sent a note to the grandson, saying that the geese weren’t any good, but I could fix him a nice duck instead, or if he wanted my recommendation, the pork that day looked particularly fine.”
Mrs. Robinson took a sip of her tea, then continued, “I didn’t think a thing of it. It’s precisely what I would have done with his grandfather, and he was always happy to go along with my recommendations. But the next thing I knew, Lysander—it feels wrong, calling him Lysander, but I don’t know what other name to use—came storming into my kitchen, bellowing about how my ‘insubordination’ would not be tolerated! Well, I never!”Mrs. Robinson looked genuinely offended. “I told him that if he wanted to eat four-day-old goose, it was no business of mine, but my recommendation stood. He shouted something about how his instructions were to be followed to the letter. So, I sent Timmy back to the market to get the best goose he could find. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t very good, and somehow, that was my fault, too.” She threw her hands up. “Truly, you couldn’t win with that man!”
Rosalie had stopped taking notes and was sitting there, stunned. This certainly wasn’t a very flattering portrait of the man she had come ever so close to marrying. “And Lysander was always like this?”
Mrs. Robinson nodded. “Oh, yes. There was always something. Too much dill! Not enough dill! The roast was too rare! Then, the roast was overcooked!” She shook her head. “As I said, I’ve been a cook for almost forty years. It’s not as if I send scorched meat to the table. Then, there was the time he couldn’t understand why the tart had been made with dried fruit. Where, exactly, did he expect me to find fresh peaches inJanuary?”
“And he would yell and shout over such a thing?” Rosalie asked.
