She gestured at the tiered serving plate, which now held only crumbs.
“Did you correspond with her prior employers?”
Xenia drew her brows together. “There wasn’t time, my lady?—”
“It isn’t Mrs. Wood’s fault, Mama,” Ethan cut in. “As I was tired of subsisting on Brunswick’s cooking, I told her to hire someone at the mop fair. Mrs. Johnson was the most qualified candidate by far, and because she is not from the area, she was not frightened off by the rumors of the curse. We had to make do, and we did.”
“Hmm,” Mama said.
“What are you thinking, my love?” Papa asked.
“That we ought to find out more about Mrs. Johnson.”
“Where was everyone last night when the fire happened?”
The question came from Owen, who’d been silent until now. He flicked his gaze around the room, tapping his fingers idly against his thigh.
“Good question, son,” Papa said. “Perhaps we ought to have started there.”
“I was in bed,” Gigi piped up. “Colette can vouch that she helped me get ready.”
“No one needs to vouch for you, Gigi.” Ethan rolled his eyes.
“If we are going through everyone’s alibis, it’s only fair that I supply one too,” his sister said blithely. “As for Canning and Parkhurst, after you, um…decided to have an early night, they stayed up and played cards. Xenia and I left them to it. Did you go straight to bed afterward, Xenia?”
“N-no,” Xenia stammered. “Not quite yet.”
“Forgive my curiosity, Mrs. Wood.” Although Mama’s tone was pleasant, her gaze held a familiar shrewdness. “It was mentioned that you were the first to notice the fire around two in the morning. Was there a reason for you to be up at that hour?”
Seeing Xenia freeze like a cornered doe, Ethan recognized her dilemma. She didn’t want to lie to his family. But she couldn’t tell the truth either: that she had been having a late-night rendezvous with him.
“Mrs. Wood was with me,” he said.
Speculative glances darted through the room. Xenia stared at him, wide-eyed.
“I had overindulged,” he clarified. “Mrs. Wood wanted to make sure I was all right and found me in the stables. Good thing she did, too, as she was the one who noticed the burning smell. If it hadn’t been for her, the damage would have extended beyond the gazebo. She has my full trust.”
The lines eased around Mama’s eyes.
“If that is the case, then you have mine as well, Mrs. Wood,” she said softly. “And my gratitude.”
A knock sounded, and Brunswick entered. “Pardon, my lord, but the constable has arrived. Shall I have him wait?”
“No, bring him in,” Ethan said.
Rawlins was ushered in, looking as rumpled as ever. Introductions were made.
“I apologize, my lord,” he said to Ethan. “I would have arrived sooner, but I was delayed by a new development…”
He hesitated, clearly uncertain what he could say in present company.
“You may speak freely,” Ethan said. “My family knows everything.”
“It concerns Dobson Gill, my lord.”
“You’ve found him?” Ethan said alertly.
“Yes.” Rawlins glanced at Mama and Gigi. “The matter is somewhat, er, delicate?—”
