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Against him, he felt Ivy shiver. “Cold?” he asked while drawing the pelt closer.
“Just a little.”
“We should get dressed,” he said, though it was the last thing he wanted. He was enjoying the feel of her naked breasts pressed against his chest.
“I suppose.” But she made no effort to move.
He lifted a hand and ran his fingers through her hair. “Ivy?”
“Hmm?”
“We need to talk.”
He felt her go stiff. “What about?”
“The night of the murder.” She pulled out of his arms and reached for her blouse and pantaloons. Sam could have kicked himself for bringing it up at such an inopportune time. It wasn’t his intention to ruin the moment. He wanted nothing more than to pull her back into his arms and forget anything had ever happened in Chicago, but the logical side of his brain reared its ugly head. If he was going to clear her name, he had better learn to rein in his desire and concentrate on the task at hand. With a sigh, he reached for his own shirt.
“I don’t know what happened that night.” She spoke softly. “The last time I saw Philip Hendrickson, he was cussing and shouting insults at me. And very much alive. I didn’t know of his death until ye informed me.”
“There was an eyewitness and the dress they recovered was coated in blood. It was identified as belonging to you.”
She lifted her chin and stared at him. “I did not kill him.”
“I believe you, Ivy, but if I’m going to clear your name, we have to get to the bottom of this. No matter how painful.”
He saw the flush in her cheeks before she dropped her face from his gaze, and Sam knew she wasn’t telling him everything. Even now, she still withheld secrets. It would take a lot more than setting her free to gain her trust.
Capturing her chin, he tilted her face back up to his. “Talk to me, Ivy. What happened that night?”
There was a moment’s pause where he could clearly see the doubts flickering across her face. Then she gulped and told him, “I don’t know.”
He sighed and dropped her chin. “What do you know?”
“Nothing.”
“All right, let’s start at the beginning. If you did not murder him, why would someone claim to have seen you do it? Was there a relationship going on between the two of you? Did you get into a quarrel that night?”
She paused, then said, “We were not lovers, but we did quarrel the night I left.”
“What about?” He could tell by her expression she wasn’t happy to talk about it. “Ivy? What about?”
“The usual. We had a difference of opinions. He was of the opinion he could use me body to release his sexual needs, and I was of the opinion he could go to hell.”
Sam couldn’t help but smirk and feel a tingling of pride. “All right. So what type of relationship did you have?”
“None. Apart from employer and employee.”
“How did you start working for him?”
“I did not work for him, but rather his parents. Mr. Hendrickson had been abroad when I first got work in their kitchen.”
“When was that?”
“Three years back. I had been working at a laundry shop in the city for about a year and hated every minute of it. But it enabled me to meet Stella Taylor. She was older than me, but we got along well. We spoke often when she came in with her weekly laundry. After a few months, she informed me there was a position open in the home of her employers.”
“The Hendrickson’s?”
“Aye. She was their housekeeper and most senior staff member. It was her duty to manage the rest of the staff. The position she offered was of a chambermaid. Quite high in the hierarchy really. I thought it a godsend. Much better work than soaking me hands in filthy laundry all day. In hindsight, I should have known it was too good to be true.”
