“It’s not written for people like you.”
I bristled. “What do you mean ‘people like me?’”
She returned to the cart and hung the duster on the hook on the end. “Smart people.”
“That’s ridiculous. For one thing, you’re smart and you’re reading it.” I was rather pleased with my retort. She couldn’t possibly argue with it.
“Educated people,” she shot back.
I crossed my arms. “Why can’t educated people read it?”
“They’d find it too silly.”
“Can I not be the judge of whether I’d like it or not?”
She removed folded white sheets from the cart and marched back into the room. “What did Lord and Lady Wrexham say?” she asked as she unfurled the bottom sheet.
I gathered the other side and began spreading it over the unmade bed.
Harmony straightened. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you. Or can’t educated people make beds properly either?”
“I’ll reserve my judgement until the end.”
We made the bed together then Harmony fixed my side, tucking the sheets in tighter and making sure there was not a wrinkle in sight before laying the bedspread over the top. By the time she’d finished, I’d told her everything that had transpired at the Wrexhams’ house.
“I have no idea what to do next,” I finished.
Harmony perched on the edge of the dressing table and rested her hands either side of her. “Could you speak to the coachman again? You can offer him more money to tell you where he took his lordship that afternoon.”
I shook my head. “He values his job too much. The same with the butler.” I clicked my fingers. “I could offer Victor’s friend money to look at his lordship’s diary. It’s better than my other idea.”
“Which is?”
“Something that carried too much risk.” I’d considered breaking into the townhouse and getting my handson that diary, but it was far too dangerous. I might be able to weather the risk if I got caught, but Victor couldn’t and I needed his lock picking skills to get in.
His friend, Mr. Adams, worked there and had proved he could be bought, however.
“Miss Fox!”
I swung around to see Mrs. Short standing in the doorway, a thunderous look on her face. Built like her name, she stood at less than five feet and was as round as a barrel. Her gray hair was drawn back into a tight bun, pulling her eyes into a squint. Her mouth pinched with disapproval.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was just talking to Harmony. I wasn’t distracting her. She continued to work the whole time.”
Her brow creased. “Whyare you talking to Harmony?”
“For company.”
“Miss Fox, I’d appreciate it if you did not distract my maids while they’re working.”
“But—”
“Do I need to speak to Sir Ronald about this inappropriate behavior?”
“We were just talking.”
