Read Online Angel of Hever Castle, The by Kim Wright - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kim Wright
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understand, this discretion is required on both sides of any agreement. May I ask how you learned about our school?”
Emma was about to give John’s name , when something stopped her. It would have been an honest answer and a logical one, and John’s name was one that Mrs. Carter would undoubtedly recognize and respect. But citing John would bring her no closer to the truth she sought, so instead Emma blurted out “Dorinda Spencer.”
The room fell silent. Mrs. Carter glanced to the side, to the door where the pregnant maid had entered, but the girl had moved and was now behind her mistress , still holding the tray. Her own gaze flitted up and Emma’s heart leapt. Was that a flicker of recognition at the name, and, if so, what did it mean? Dorinda Spencer was hardly a student at Kirkland – she was an artist at Hever. But of course she might have been a student in the past…might have had a child and given it up and then followed LaRusse…
But Emma’s reverie, an entire story built solely on a maid’s slight shift in expression, came crashing down when Mrs. Carter said calmly, “I am not familiar with that name.”
****
Ten minutes later Emma was back at the iron gate. Her interview with Mrs. Carter somehow had managed to be both brief and exhaustive, both vague and enlightening. Emma had left telling the woman she needed some time to consider the proposition in privacy before deciding if the Kirkland School would be right for her mythical sister. Mrs. Carter had nodded and then quoted a tuition fee that made Emma’s mouth literally drop open. Apparently discretion came at a very high cost, but at least the secrets of the Kirkland School appeared to be well-kept. When Emma had timidly asked for references from other satisfied students, Mrs. Carter had merely shaken her head and said “This is an impossible request, my dear. As I suspect you already know.”
The woman had followed Emma to the door and watched as she descended the steps and made her way down the long path to the street. But when Emma had reached the gate , the door of the school had at last firmly closed, leaving her standing here with her hand on the iron railing, debating her next best move. She had found out precious little that would help the case, but she couldn’t quite shake the notion that the maid had recognized the name “Dorinda Spencer.” The afternoon was quickly fading to dusk. Preparations for dinner were probably already underway and almost all homes of this size had back entrances into the kitchen…Should she risk it?
****
The pregnant maid’s name was Melly MacGraw. She offered this up with such ease that Emma had no doubt that it was true. Nor did the girl seem especially surprised to find Emma at her kitchen door and she accepted Emma’s offer of help with alacrity.
“You needn’t worry that I’ll make a muddle of it,” Emma said. “I was a maid myself this time last year.”
“Were you now?” said the girl, sliding a clump of carrots and a paring knife toward her. “They’ll put you work fast enough if they hear that.”
“I am not pregnant.”
The girl glanced down at her protruding abdomen. “All right then, neither am I.”
“I have come as part of an investigation,” Emma said cautiously, for she didn’t wish to say anything that might alarm Melly or cause her easy open manner to shift. “Into missing girls. When I mentioned the name ‘Dorinda Spencer’ it seemed to me that you reacted. Did you know her?”
“Not exactly. There was a Rose Spencer here when I first come, four months ago. I waited on her, as her personal maid. She had very fine hair, you know. And she liked the way I did it up. Said I was as skilled as any lady’s maid in any fine house in England.”
“And what happened to her? Do you have any idea where she is now?”
Melly paused in the process of peeling her potatoes and frowned. “What happens to
Emma was about to give John’s name , when something stopped her. It would have been an honest answer and a logical one, and John’s name was one that Mrs. Carter would undoubtedly recognize and respect. But citing John would bring her no closer to the truth she sought, so instead Emma blurted out “Dorinda Spencer.”
The room fell silent. Mrs. Carter glanced to the side, to the door where the pregnant maid had entered, but the girl had moved and was now behind her mistress , still holding the tray. Her own gaze flitted up and Emma’s heart leapt. Was that a flicker of recognition at the name, and, if so, what did it mean? Dorinda Spencer was hardly a student at Kirkland – she was an artist at Hever. But of course she might have been a student in the past…might have had a child and given it up and then followed LaRusse…
But Emma’s reverie, an entire story built solely on a maid’s slight shift in expression, came crashing down when Mrs. Carter said calmly, “I am not familiar with that name.”
****
Ten minutes later Emma was back at the iron gate. Her interview with Mrs. Carter somehow had managed to be both brief and exhaustive, both vague and enlightening. Emma had left telling the woman she needed some time to consider the proposition in privacy before deciding if the Kirkland School would be right for her mythical sister. Mrs. Carter had nodded and then quoted a tuition fee that made Emma’s mouth literally drop open. Apparently discretion came at a very high cost, but at least the secrets of the Kirkland School appeared to be well-kept. When Emma had timidly asked for references from other satisfied students, Mrs. Carter had merely shaken her head and said “This is an impossible request, my dear. As I suspect you already know.”
The woman had followed Emma to the door and watched as she descended the steps and made her way down the long path to the street. But when Emma had reached the gate , the door of the school had at last firmly closed, leaving her standing here with her hand on the iron railing, debating her next best move. She had found out precious little that would help the case, but she couldn’t quite shake the notion that the maid had recognized the name “Dorinda Spencer.” The afternoon was quickly fading to dusk. Preparations for dinner were probably already underway and almost all homes of this size had back entrances into the kitchen…Should she risk it?
****
The pregnant maid’s name was Melly MacGraw. She offered this up with such ease that Emma had no doubt that it was true. Nor did the girl seem especially surprised to find Emma at her kitchen door and she accepted Emma’s offer of help with alacrity.
“You needn’t worry that I’ll make a muddle of it,” Emma said. “I was a maid myself this time last year.”
“Were you now?” said the girl, sliding a clump of carrots and a paring knife toward her. “They’ll put you work fast enough if they hear that.”
“I am not pregnant.”
The girl glanced down at her protruding abdomen. “All right then, neither am I.”
“I have come as part of an investigation,” Emma said cautiously, for she didn’t wish to say anything that might alarm Melly or cause her easy open manner to shift. “Into missing girls. When I mentioned the name ‘Dorinda Spencer’ it seemed to me that you reacted. Did you know her?”
“Not exactly. There was a Rose Spencer here when I first come, four months ago. I waited on her, as her personal maid. She had very fine hair, you know. And she liked the way I did it up. Said I was as skilled as any lady’s maid in any fine house in England.”
“And what happened to her? Do you have any idea where she is now?”
Melly paused in the process of peeling her potatoes and frowned. “What happens to
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