‘Minerva, do calm yourself,’ Lord Stanley replied with maddening composure. ‘I am sure Miss Lucas has good reason for requesting an audience with me. Please leave us.’
Mrs Wilberforce departed reluctantly.
Once the door shut behind her, silence fell over the study.
He seemed faintly displeased at having been summoned, but Charlotte lifted her chin high.
Then he fixed that icy stare upon her, as though to say, I thought I made myself clear, and her certainty faltered.
‘It is about Mrs Dent... I am not entirely certain,’ she admitted.
He cast Charlotte a look that suggested she was trying his patience.
That alone was enough to spark her temper.
‘You may glare as much as you please, my lord, but this is important. The other night, when I requested a private word with you, I intended to tell you everything—but you, as usual, assumed I was trying to entrap you.’ She folded her arms. ‘Let me assure you, my lord, I have no interest in you.’
Lord Stanley’s mouth tightened. ‘I do not glare, Miss Lucas.’
‘Shall I fetch a mirror, my lord? You will find yourself mistaken.’
The corner of his mouth twitched.
‘No one has ever corrected me before.’
‘Well, that is a great shame. Everyone should have at least one person willing to do so.’
‘I have the distinct impression,’ he said dryly, ‘that for me, that person is you.’
Dragging a hand across his face, he exhaled slowly. Whether in exasperation or reluctant amusement, she could not tell.
Still, that clipped tone softening into resignation very nearly made her smile.
‘My lord, I believe Mrs Dent may be an accomplice of the Odd Fellows.’
At once, all amusement vanished.
Charlotte explained Lucy’s disappearance, the abandoned money sack beneath the floorboard, the hurried farewell note, and the rumours regarding the other maids and governesses.
Lord Stanley listened with grim intent, his features darkening steadily from concern to alarm.
‘She has been removing the girls’ belongings herself,’ Charlotte finished. ‘Then informing the servants that they left voluntarily, though no one ever witnessed them depart—and no word has been received from them since. The downstairs maids are frightened.’
A long, tense pause followed. Lord Stanley’s eyes did not leave hers.
Then, quietly, he asked, ‘Who told you this?’
Crossing the room, he braced one hand against the desk behind her. The atmosphere shifted at once—focused, intent.
Charlotte’s fingers twisted nervously in the folds of her shawl.
Must the man always loom over furniture? She thought distractedly.
‘I...’
She hesitated. Then made her decision.
‘I cannot reveal her name.’
