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terrible feeling that he was somehow connected to her sister’s disappearance.
    No matter the reason, she certainly didn’t want his company to ruin their day of freedom.
    Gripping her friend’s arm, she gave it a little yank. “Hurry, Nanci. We don’t want to run into them.”
    But instead of heeding Rosalind’s wishes, Nanci smiled gamely at the two approaching men. Both nodded in return, then Douglass’s eyes widened in recognition.
    “Well, what do you know? Two of my housemaids. Rosalind and . . .”
    “Nanci, sir.” She gave a little curtsy.
    “Ah, yes. Are you two having a good time?”
    “Oh yes, indeed, sir. I mean, Mr. Sloane, sir. I mean, we were given the afternoon and evening off by your father.”
    He leaned close. “My father is Mr. Sloane. Call me Douglass, yes?”
    “I couldn’t.” But all the same, Nanci leaned a little closer.
    His dimple appeared. “Sure you could. Especially here. After all, no one back home will ever know what we do.”
    Rosalind felt her nerves tighten as his words floated over them. To her way of thinking, they sounded vaguely threatening. But it seemed she was the only one who thought that. Nanci was smiling flirtatiously, and Douglass looked pleased.
    And Mr. Armstrong? He simply looked bored.
    Feeling slightly silly, Rosalind forced herself to relax. Her problem was that she saw danger at every turn. Because her sister’s welfare and disappearance rested at the top of her concerns, she most likely saw problems where there were none.
    Worried about things that she shouldn’t concern herself about.
    Standing beside Nanci, even Rosalind had to admit that Douglass Sloane was charming. Furthermore, it truly was a blessing that he was so friendly. She’d served enough men and women in the dining rooms to realize that most of the guests barely deigned to even notice the servants, let alone bother to learn their names. Still fewer took the time to ever have a conversation with them.
    She should have known better than to assume anything about Douglass. After all, she’d been raised with her mother’s constant gentle reminder that they were all God’s children, and therefore equal in his eyes.
    With all that in mind, Rosalind tried her best to be a bit more lighthearted. “Perhaps I will call you Douglass too.”
    Dramatically, Douglass patted his chest. “Be still, my heart. My name sounds so sweet on your lips.”
    Unable to stop herself, Rosalind giggled. Yes, Douglass Sloane flirted too much. And surely a respectful woman would never give any of his words credence. She did not. But she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that having a sophisticated man like Douglass Sloane take notice of a country girl like her made her slightly breathless.
    You have been a foolish girl , she scolded herself. Imagining problems where there are none and blackguards where only friends appear.
    Douglass Sloane really was terribly charming. And he seemed nice too. Surely all of that wasn’t pretense. She didn’t know society’s ways, but she liked to think that she did know people. Surely she’d be able to know immediately if a person was dangerous. Really dangerous.
    Yes, she liked to think so. And she needed an ally in the house if she was ever going to truly uncover all the mysteries surrounding Miranda’s disappearance. Instinctively, she knew she couldn’t rely only on information passed to her by servants. She needed the perspective and knowledge that only one of the family—someone in society—could know.
    The first spark of real hope lit inside of her. Maybe her working in the house, maybe all this subterfuge, wasn’t for naught after all.
    Reid cleared his throat, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “I believe it’s time we let you, uh, ladies go on your way. You no doubt have other things to do, as do we.” Though unspoken, the meaning under his words was unashamedly evident. He’d had enough of two maids’ company.
    “Oh yes, sir,” Nanci