“Our house, partner.”
Cordelia smiled and nodded her head. “I suppose you’d better stay and help guard the trunk until morning. But don’t eat all the bacon at breakfast.”
“I won’t,” Thomas promised, placing a hand on his heart. “Only half of the bacon, partner.”
29
Cordelia woke up before Thomas and stole out of the bed. She opened the curtains to let light into the room. Thomas groaned and turned over onto his stomach. Cordelia unlatched the trunk and picked up a large golden coin in her hands, examining it. One side bore the Tudor coat of arms, surrounded by what looked like leaves, with a crown on the top. There were words around the edges, but she couldn’t quite make them out. On the other side, there was a king on an elaborate throne, holding a scepter in one hand and an orb in the other.
“Absconding with our treasure?” Thomas asked with a yawn.
“Examining it,” Cordelia said, and sat on the edge of the bed. She handed him the coin and he turned it over. “What do you think they’re worth?”
“No idea,” Thomas admitted. “But they should be pretty close to solid gold. The coin’s value was in the metal, not in the currency itself.”
Thomas flipped her the coin and she caught it between her hands. “Who do you think was in my room last night?”
“Let’s narrow it down, then,” Thomas said. “You said that you were certain it was a woman. Was she large or thin?”
“Thin.”
“That rules out Cook, Mrs. Norton,” he said, “and possibly Miss Vaughn.”
“It couldn’t be Miss Vaughn,” Cordelia stated. “She is my greatest defender in the household.”
Thomas looked down at his hands. “I am sorry that you’ve needed to be defended.”
“They haven’t attacked me with steel-tipped umbrellas or anything,” Cordelia said, trying to make him laugh.
His lips quirked, but his eyes remained serious. “Only with no fires, cold water, poor food, and incompetent service.”
“You knew?”
“Thayne recently told me that you were having a rough time with the staff,” Thomas said, looking at her with his pale acorn-brown eyes. “I talked to Cook, and if you have any other difficulties with Mrs. Norton or Hibbert, please let me know.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he said, and bit his bottom lip.
Cordelia imagined what it would be like to bite that lip herself and blushed. “Perhaps it is time for Hibbert and Mrs. Norton to retire,” she suggested hopefully. Thomas’s face fell, so she added, “With a large pension, of course, in deference to their many years of excellent service.”
Then she could hire herownstaff.
He shook his head. “I offered to let them retire, when we returned from New York, but both insisted that Ashdown was their home and that they didn’t wish to leave it… And I don’t think they have anywhere else to go.”
“What of their families?”
“Hibbert never married, and Mrs. Norton’s husband died when my father was a boy. He was the assistant to the games master. Poor Mrs. Norton didn’t even have a surname until she married. She was simply another ‘Mary’ from the workhouse. She has no other home or family but Ashdown. She’s lived here for over forty years and worked for the last few for an irregular salary. I couldn’t possibly ask either of them to leave after their loyalty.”
Cordelia clenched her teeth to keep in all the words she shouldn’t say. She knew all too well how much it hurt when others criticized people you loved. Thomas clearly cared about these people. Still, Hibbert was constantly correcting her, which was beyond the pale from a servant. Mrs. Norton never did what Cordelia asked the first time, and when she finally did it, the deed was only accomplished with a great deal of grumbling. And she would love nothing more than to replace the irascible cook with a French chef or two.
“Could you tell if the woman last night was short or tall?” he asked.
She leaned back against the pillows and lifted her knees to her chest. “It’s hard to say. They were leaning over me, watching me sleep. I would think they were of average height.”
“Which leaves one of the ten housemaids.”
“And Penelope and your mother,” Cordelia said.
