*
Sarah’s blue eyeswere red rimmed and swollen from crying. But it was the fear in them that unnerved Bridget.
“I didn’t mean for her to die.” The maidservant shrank into the oversized leather chair in the study.
“What are you saying?” Nate leaned on the desk with his forearms and peered at Sarah. “That you killed Abigail by accident?”
“Killed her!” Sarah’s voice reached a high pitch. “No! I mean—I don’t know.” She looked from Nate to Bridget. “Can you wish someone dead?” she asked, her face scrunched and her eyes pleading.
Nate’s thick brows came together in a frown.
Bridget, who sat beside Sarah on one of the two oversized leather chairs in her papa’s study, leaned over and touched the housemaid on the arm. “What do you mean, Sarah?” she asked kindly. “Are you saying that you wished Abigail harm?”
Sarah’s features contorted as if she were in physical pain. “I wished her dead.”
“Yes, but did you—” Nate started, and then stopped when he caught Bridget’s eyes on him. She shook her head ever so slightly to indicate that he needed to be quiet.
Bridget turned back to Sarah and gently squeezed her hand. “Whydid you wish her harm?” she asked, keeping the urgency out of her voice. “Did you feel threatened by her?”
Sarah shrugged.
“Perhaps you were jealous?” Nate suggested.
Sarah grimaced and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. Bridget gave Nate a hard stare. He didn’t seem to realize that patience and kindness were imperative now. If Sarah felt threatened or blamed, she’d shut down and all would be lost.
“Don’t be ashamed,” Bridget said in a soothing tone. “We all feel jealous sometimes.”
Nate seemed to finally understand as he retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the housemaid. “Why don’t you tell us what happened.”
Sarah pressed the silk cloth to her eyes and took a shaky breath before speaking. “Mr. Harley offered us a good deal of money to—well—his missus is barren, you see, so—” She let out a sob.
“Don’t worry, we know that part already.” Bridget patted the servant’s hand. “You needn’t go into detail about it.”
“I know it sounds horrible, but I ain’t ever had a lot of money, and he promised us—whichever one of us gave him a child—a grand life. At first, I didn’t want to do it because it were obvious that Mr. Harley preferred Abigail to me. She was so pretty an’ Mr. Harley were always talking about how they both had copper hair. I knew he wanted her to be the one to bear his child, and then I’d be left with naught.” She stared at the handkerchief in her hands and shook her head.
“But Abigail convinced you to do it, didn’t she?” Bridget coaxed.
Sarah nodded. “Abigail swore we’d stick together, whichever one of us got with child first, it didn’t matter, we’d share the fortune. We’d give the Harleys the child, take the money, and set up someplace together—take care of each other.” Sarah made a strangled sound as another sob escaped her throat.
“Go on,” Bridget said gently, although she was having a difficult time sympathizing with the woman.
Sarah dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief again and sniffed before continuing. “At first, it were just Mr. Harley. He’d have both of us—one after the other.”
Bridget’s face flushed at the maid’s frank talk, and she forced herself not to look at Nate. “But then Lord Frederick started ‘helping.’ He always wanted Abigail. So, I’d go with Mr. Harley.” She twisted the handkerchief. “It didn’t seem to matter to Mr. Harley whose babe he got so long as he got one.”
“And it angered you that Mr. Harley and Lord Frederick preferred Abigail?” Nate said. “Because they thought her prettier?”
“Or because she was more likely to get with child than you?” Bridget said, glaring at Nate. He’d said the wrong thing again.
“No,” Sarah said. “Truly I didn’t care. Because Abigail said we’d share the money no matter who got with child. We’d run off together, get a home, and have servants of our own.”
Bridget frowned.Just how much money did Mr. Harley offer them?
“But that’s not what happened is it?” Nate interjected again. “Abigail wanted it all for herself, didn’t she?”
Sarah nodded. Her gaze was fixed on her boots. “When Abigail learned she were with child, everything changed.” She looked up. “She talked of how she was to escape service and live a grand life as Mr. Harley’s mistress. She said that Mrs. Harley was dowdy and barren, and that Mr. Harley wanted her instead. She’d have her own quarters in London, new dresses every week, and money to buy sweet treats, perfume, and whatever else she wanted.”
“Abigail broke her promise to you, so you killed her,” Nate said.
