“To hear my uncle’s will read, of course,” Hattie said. “Well, Mr. Wilson’s uncle. So I don’t expect there to be anything in there attached to my name.” She shrugged, but in spite of her careless attitude, she was clearly staying between them and the door. And her smile hadn’t faltered. “Now let me think. A little bird told me that adressmaker,of all people, is the prime suspect in Uncle’s murder. And here you are, with your friend pretending to be a maid while she helps you creeparound. You have a knack for finding trouble, Miss Kelly.” Her gaze grew sharp. “You may choose, girls. You tell me what you’re up to, or I start shouting that someone broke into the house.”
“What’s to stop you doing that anyway?” Bea asked defiantly, crossing her arms. She looked cool and composed, and even though Vivian knew she must be close to panicking, her voice never wavered.
“Absolutely nothing.” The careless lift of Hattie’s shoulders was so delicate it could barely be called a shrug, but her eyes glittered menacingly behind her veil as she watched them. “So I suggest you give me a good reason not to.”
Vivian glanced at Bea as she tried to decide what to do. But Bea, sharp as ever, got there first. “Vivian didn’t have anything to do with that guy getting bumped off. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“A bad habit of yours, that,” Hattie Wilson said, looking amused when Vivian glared at her. “And you’re here to prove your innocence?”
“I’m here to listen in while his will is being read and see if there’s a good reason someoneelsemight’ve wanted him dead,” Vivian bit off. “I don’t expect it’ll turn up anything. But when a girl’s feeling desperate…” She shrugged.
“Hmm.” It was impossible to tell what Hattie was thinking. “And how exactly do you plan to gather this information? Hanging out a window, perhaps?”
Bea jerked her head toward a corner that held a second door. “Through there’s a staircase going down—servants’ stair, I think, it’s pretty darn narrow. There’s another door at the bottom, and it opens into the family parlor where they—” She gave Hattie a suspicious glance. “—you, I suppose, are meeting with the lawyer.”
“And you know it’s the right spot?” Vivian asked when Hattie said nothing.
“It had better be,” Bea said with a scowl. “I had to spend over an hour dusting it this morning.”
“All right.” They both turned back to Hattie to find her smiling. “I’ll agree not to tell anyone you’re here because, to be quite honest, I’m curious to see what you make of our little gathering. Whether anyone surprises you… or not.”
“More of a surprise than just seeing you here?” Vivian asked nervously. Hattie Wilson never did anything without a reason. This time Vivian didn’t have any idea what that reason might be, but she couldn’t imagine it was good.
Hattie’s expression grew sly, almost smug, and Vivian wished she could see her eyes more clearly. But that delicate little veil was still in the way. “You might be surprised by who else you know here today, Miss Kelly. You aren’t the only one who turns up in unexpected places.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Vivian demanded. Hattie Wilson terrified her, and she knew she didn’t have a hope of hiding it. But she refused to be played with.
But Hattie shook her head. “I’d hate to spoil it for you.” She gestured toward the stairs, and when she spoke again, there was a taunting edge to her voice. “Time passes, Miss Kelly. Will you take me up on my offer, or shall I summon Uncle Huxley’s dreadful wife and tell her she has rats creeping about?”
Vivian knew the offer to stay quiet wasn’t out of the goodness of her heart. Hattie Wilson had said it herself, more than once—she didn’t have a heart.
Though that wasn’t entirely true. Vivian had met Mrs. Wilson’s sister, and she knew the woman had a son. Hattie was fiercely protective of both of them. But otherwise, she made her choices based on a very simple logic: what was going to be best for her and her business. In some ways that made her more reliable than most people. And if she was willing to help…
Vivian glanced at Bea, who grimaced but nodded. “All right,” Vivian said. “Though it’s not like we have much of a choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Miss Kelly,” Hattie said. She turned to Bea, giving her maid’s uniform a dismissive look. “Get along, Bluebird—I’m sure you have work to do. You can fetch your friend once the lawyer is gone.”
Bea didn’t look happy about it, but she wasn’t in a position to protest. She gave Vivian a smile that would have been encouraging if her worry hadn’t been so plain. Bea knew what she was risking here, too. “Remember, not a peep on the stairs, okay? You don’t want anyone in that room hearing you.”
“Got it,” Vivian said, trying to sound confident. “Now get going before you get canned on your first day.”
That made Bea roll her eyes. “Good luck, Viv.” She gave Hattie Wilson a wary look as she slipped past her and out the door, closing it silently behind her.
As soon as she was gone, Hattie gestured toward the staircase. “Head on down, then.”
But Vivian was frowning at her, something Hattie had said just moments before sticking in her mind. “What did you say your uncle’s name was?”
“Not my uncle,” Hattie reminded her.
“Sure, okay, but what did you call him? Did you say Uncle Huxley?”
“Uncle Huxley?” Hattie raised her brows, though her look of surprise seemed almost deliberate. “Don’t tell me you found his bloody corpse but didn’t know his given name.”
“Why would I?” Vivian snapped. It was a stupid thought anyway. She pushed it out of her mind. “It isn’t as if people like you introduce themselves to the folks doing their deliveries.”
“I suppose not.” Hattie shrugged again. “Are you going to stand there all day? I have to get downstairs myself.”
Vivian still hesitated. “You’re planning to double-cross me.”
