“Hmmm.” Luc mused. “This was O’Grady’s shop when last I was here.”
“Supposedly you’ve only been away for three years or so. Even in that short time, much can change,” Grace remarked.
“True.”
They went inside and found seats at a pleasant oak table near a small window.
A large woman came bustling up. “What sort of tea can I be getting you, loves? We’ve bohea, suchong, hyson and singlo.”
“Bohea for me please, my lord,” Grace said to Luc.
“Bohea for my wife and me as …”
“Saints preserve us.” The woman covered her mouth with both hands. “I’d know that voice anywhere.” The woman bent close peering at Luc’s face. “’Tis really you, your lordship. Come back from the dead?”
“Ah’m you believed I was dead?”
“Well, some of us. When I heard Lord Kilmore was living at McCullen Grove, I thought perhaps it was a new man.”
Luc lifted his brows and nodded. “I suppose that’s possible. However, you have me at an advantage. You are…?”
“Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, bless you. I’ve put on a bit of weight since you left. But ’tis me, Letty McNamara.”
“Letty McNamara?” Luc rolled the name around in his head, blinking when he finally recalled. “Your maiden name was O’Grady, and you worked as housekeeper to Squire Comerford.”
“Aye, that I was, rest his soul.”
“Rest his soul?”
“He passed on during the typhus that swept through Cullenton just before this past Christmastide. Same one as killed your ma. I lost me own da, which is why I own this shop now, with Mr. McNamara my husband. I’ll be right back with the tea.” She trundled off.
Luc’s eyes went wide. “Just this past December?” The news of his mother's death was no surprise, Cal had told him when they'd met in New Orleans. It was the timing of the epidemic that shocked.
Grace reached for his hand? “That would be…?”
He gripped her fingers like a lifeline and shook his head. “I know.”
Grace sat back, easing her hand from his. “Of course, it goes without saying, my lord.”
Luc sat in contemplative silence, as they consumed their tea and biscuits.
“Can I get you aught else, my lord?” Letty came to clear away their plates and cups.
“No thank you, Mistress McNamara,” Luc said. “However, would you sit with us a while? He stood and pulled back a chair for her. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
The shop owner blinked her astonishment at him. “T’wouldn’t be proper my lord.”
“It is if I say it is.”
“Please,” Grace added with that stone-melting smile.
“I can’t sit for long,” Letty warned. “Got other customers to see to.”
“We won’t linger,” Luc promised.
“Fine enough then.” She sat. “Now what is it you want to ask?”
Luc resumed his seat. “Can you tell us what happened to Squire Comerford’s wife?”
