El, unfortunately, could imagine any number of reasons, none of them she wished to dwell on. She contemplated leaving the door blocked, but then she’d only fret for their entire stay, wondering what the cellar might conceal. Was it connected to the one the thieves had used?
The house had been added onto, they’d already noted. So it was possible there was an old and new cellar. Maybe this one was little more than a root cellar, as expected.
In resignation, she went in search of Andrew. It wasn’t quite twilight yet, but the trees surrounding the overgrown yard shadowed the windows, casting the house’s interior into early darkness. They’d need more lanterns and lamps.
When she couldn’t find her twin upstairs or down, she reluctantly ventured out to find him scrubbing the well house with the counting boy. “There is a hidden door in the kitchen.”
Her twin dropped pails and scrubbers, ordered the boy—Silas—to do the same, and they followed her into the low-ceilinged kitchen addition. The young cook and scullery maid had removed all the supplies they’d shelved in the cupboard earlier.
As they made room to move the tall cabinet, Grey wandered in. “Rearranging before the furnishings arrive? Are there the makings of a cold collation about?”
El nodded at the anxious cook, who raced to set out bread and cheese on the wobbly wooden table.
While Miss Fields was thus occupied, El gestured at the door Andrew and Silas were slowly revealing as they shoved the heavy cabinet aside. “Cellar door, sir.” She left him to think what he would.
Studying the cobweb-encased panel, Grey’s thick dark eyebrows soared. “How did you discover that?”
El glanced at Miss Fields. “Our cook wished to have a cellar for the dairy.”
“And the tatties and so forth.” The girl hastily sliced bread and ham. “A good kitchen has a pantry and a cellar. So I looked under them shelves what really ought to be in the other room.”
With the door uncovered, Andrew rattled the latch. “Locked.”
“Ah, the anticipation of discovering the hidden idiosyncrasies of an old house,” Grey drawled, leaning over to examine the latch. “It’s nailed. Have you something to pry it loose? I don’t believe potatoes require locking up.”
Silas ran off to procure a tool. El clasped her hands nervously under Grey’s scrutiny. It was as if he could see right through her skull to her fears.
“Would you like to see how I’ve arranged my study, Miss Leonard? You might wish to establish a filing system, once additional furnishings arrive.”
Yes, she would very much like to be elsewhere when they opened that door. And no, she wasn’t a coward. “Where did you set up an office, sir? The service room has no table.” And he hadn’t been anywhere near it.
“The dining room is too public. I decided on the attic, with a view of the river. Will that be a problem for you?”
The attic, away from the rest of the household. It sounded like heaven—except they’d be alone together all day.
Better than using the large space in his bedchamber, she supposed. Although the preying lion was probably watching for more river pirates. They’d have to lock his lordship in to keep him from getting his head bashed again.
Silas ran in with a crowbar, and Grey didn’t wait for her reply. He took the iron piece, inserted it under the wooden plate, and pried the nails out with ease. The man might be a scholar, but he was not helpless.
“Oh, thank you, sir! Now I can stock more goods so we don’t run out before market day.” Utterly oblivious of the air of doom the unlocked door released, the petite cook held a plate of sandwiches and pickled vegetables and waited for Grey to take a seat somewhere.
“Just leave the plate on the table, Miss Fields,” El requested, hiding her fear as Grey took the stairs first and Andrew followed.
More sensibly, Silas lingered behind, eyeing the bread and ham with hunger.
“I think a cold collation for everyone tonight,” El suggested. Realizing she was now responsible to seeing everyone properly fed distracted her from the cellar. She would not have hungry staff. “It’s been a long day. Feed poor Silas before he expires on the spot. Then call down Mrs. Barton and Peg. I believe we shall be very informal this evening.” The extra staff had departed before the sun set, promising to return in the morning.
The cook rightfully looked confused but set about slicing, buttering, hunting more jars of relish and pickled vegetables from the supplies they’d purchased earlier, while ordering Silas to set out their meager dinnerware.
El and Andrew had packed their own cheap plates, thankfully, because the house had few.
She forced herself to stay calm as the men stomped up from the cellar.
Grey didn’t look in her direction as he crossed the kitchen to wash his hands at the pump. “Nothing to concern ourselves with. Miss Fields, refrain from moving anything into the cellar tonight. I’d like to have that foundation inspected for mice.”
El had worked with the professor for a year. He was lying through his pearly white teeth.
Eighteen
