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“His Lordship is wrong.”
Set against the interior of the housekeeper’s room, Mrs. Baxter provided a strange contrast to the delicately wallpapered walls and the soft armchair covered in lace. The room had been entirely of the woman’s design as far as Ivy knew and it still startled her even after all this time that someone so sour-faced might want tiny birds upon the walls and lace and fresh cut flowers. The housekeeper had even allowed the dachshund to curl up on her armchair, much to Ivy’s surprise.
Mrs. Baxter’s brows furrowed. “So you are not leaving?”
“No. In fact, my sister Lilly will be coming to stay next week so we should ensure we are prepared for an extra mouth to feed.” Ivy braced herself for some sort of argument from the housekeeper. The woman did not respect Cillian any more than she liked Ivy, but would she bow to Cillian’s demands?
Mrs. Baxter looked at her for a few moments then nodded sharply and made a quick note. “Itisnice to have guests again,” she murmured so quietly Ivy thought she heard incorrectly.
Could it be the housekeeper was not quite so unhappy with the situation as they all thought?
“What day should we expect your sister?”
“I think Tuesday, but I shall have to confirm with her. I shall let you know closer to the time.” She pursed her lips. “I had hoped to invite my aunt over too, however, it looks as though we shall be meeting in town.”
That was if Cillian did not force her from here or make her take a whole retinue of guards. Something about her aunt’s behavior on their visit here rankled her, or perhaps it was even prior to that. Aunt Sarah was only ever open and warm, yet she had seemed somewhat guarded, even when they were talking of Ivy’s marriage to Cillian. She had an awful suspicion her aunt knew more of this Mary matter than she was letting on.
With any luck, after she questioned her aunt, she and Lilly could put their heads together and figure out her next step forward in proving Cillian’s innocence. Though they had indeed investigated two cases before, Clementine and Violet had done most of the work, and now she had viewed the portrait and questioned the housekeeper at Gravesend, she was not certain what to do next.
With any luck, her cousins might have more information given they were much more experienced in investigating things and information was far easier to come by in London, especially given her cousins’ connections with parliament and the records they held there.
The housekeeper paused halfway through jotting something down. “Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn...”
Ivy managed not to point out that the housekeeper was used to speaking out of turn and the fact the temptation to tell her as such burned on her tongue surprised her. She really was getting bolder. Standing up to Cillian had started off some strange reaction in her.
“But do you not fear for your safety, my lady? What with that brick and the note?” She leaned in. “And the attempted kidnapping. Muriel told us all about it.”
“I’m not certain it was an attempted kidnapping.” And Ivy might have to have a strong word with Muriel for telling all and worrying everyone. “But I am not scared, no.”
“I don’t like it.”
“There’s not much to like about the situation, Mrs. Baxter. However, there is no sense in me leaving. The man tried to harm my animals and I shall not give him another chance to try again.”
A slight glint of something appeared in the housekeeper’s eyes, though Ivy wasn’t certain what it was given she’d only ever seen the woman look sour or disapproving.
She opened her mouth, shut it, then pressed her lips together then opened her mouth again. “I may be speaking out of turn, my lady, but I am not ignorant to the talk of His Lordship.”
“I am aware of that, yes.”
“And I have watched him closely since his time here and though I feared we would be dealing with a man who had little idea how to manage an estate, he has done a fair job.”
Ivy might have said he was doing more than a fair job but for Mrs. Baxter these were warm words indeed. She didn’t respond, curious as to where this was going.
“I do not believe these rumors to be anything other than falsehoods,” the woman finished firmly.
“I couldn’t agree more, Mrs. Baxter.”
“Well, then—”
The door to the housekeeper’s room burst open and Muriel paused, hand to the doorknob. Charlie jumped from the armchair and barked at Muriel’s ankles until Ivy leapt up and grabbed the squirming dog.
“He is...” Muriel sucked in a breath. “He is having your belongings packed away, my lady.”
The housekeeper rose to her feet, her expression thunderous. “Muriel, you cannot just—”
“Who is having my belongings packed away?” Ivy demanded.
“The viscount, my lady,” replied Muriel. “He has the footmen in your bedroom at this very moment and they say he has sent for your father to take you home.”
