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sp; Lucian’s sharp interjection as he shouldered through the door set her off weeping and it took me several minutes to calm her down. ‘Tell me what happened, Martha. What makes you think someone wants to hurt you?’
‘I’d been ever so worried about my lady, Miss.’ She blew her pink nose on the pocket handkerchief I’d pushed into her hand, looking more like a frightened mouse than the confident lady’s maid I had met before. ‘And when the Master sent for me yesterday, I thought I’d be given my notice and no references neither.’
‘And he threatened you?’
‘Oh no, he couldn’t have been nicer, Miss. He said he was leaving no stone unturned to get Miss Trenton back safely and she’d need me when she came home and I wasn’t to worry.’ Martha sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. ‘He didn’t suspect anything and I felt so guilty, Miss.’
‘Guilty?’ Lucian snapped and I held up one hand to hush him. She needed to tell the story her way.
‘What happened next?’
‘I couldn’t settle, Miss, and that’s the truth. So I got the basket of mending and I took it up to the sewing room at the top of the stairs where the light’s good. I knew none of the other girls would be up there then and I wanted to be alone and all quiet-like – to think.’
‘And?’
‘So I worked on the mending and then I heard the clock strike four and the light had gone. I was that parched, I wanted a cup of tea and Cook would have got the kettle on. So I picked up my basket and I went out to the landing. It was pretty gloomy, but I know it ever so well. I was just on the top step and someone pushed me, right between my shoulders, Miss, and I went head over heels down those stairs and landed all of a heap at the bottom.’
‘You weren’t hurt?’ She seemed to have all her limbs in working order now.
‘Just had the wind knocked out of me, and I was bruised, of course, Miss. And shaken.’
‘But you saw who it was?’
‘No, Miss. You see, the corridor goes right across the attic floor to the other servants’ rooms and there’s stairs at the other end. They must have gone that way.’
I remembered the lay-out from our candle-lit burglary.
‘When I got up and went downstairs there was such a bustle, I couldn’t tell who could have been up there. And the back gate was open and deliveries were coming in – and the ash man had come to clear the ash heap and I didn’t dare ask in case I made anyone suspicious.’
She was gaining confidence now, perhaps with the relief of telling someone. ‘I asked Cook if I could stay in the kitchen, told her the light was good for darning, so I was there all evening and after supper I went up quickly and I locked myself in my room and shoved a chair under the handle. And, ever so late, someone tried the door.’ She shuddered. ‘I couldn’t sleep, you see, and I was just lying there and the moonlight was falling on the door and I heard the catch grate and then I could see the handle too, turning one way and then the other. So I got up and took my water jug and I stood behind the door all night so that if anyone got in I could hit them. But no-one tried again.’
She subsided as though she was too tired to go on and I found I believed her completely. But we were no further forward. Anyone in the house might have pushed her and the place was easy enough to get into – we had proved that only the other night. Or someone could have infiltrated the place under the guise of deliveries or clearing the ash pile.
Garrick came in with the tea tray, poured three cups and handed them round. I saw him heap sugar into the one he gave to Martha.
‘So what happened the night your mistress went missing, Martha? You have to tell us, we know you lied about it. Or do you wish your mistress harm?’ She shook her head vehemently. ‘Because if anything has happened to her, then you will be an accessory to it, make no mistake about that. And if she is dead…’
It was cruel, but I daren’t risk her hiding anything, not now we knew definitely that we were dealing with a potential killer. I thought for a moment that she was going to faint, but somehow she got control of herself. ‘No, Miss! Oh no, I’d never do nothing to harm my young lady. She loves Sir Clement, I knew that. I only wanted them to be happy. I only wanted to help them.’
‘Sir Clement.’ I managed not to make it a question, even as I felt all my certainties shift. Lucian would be devastated if his friend had lied to him, deceived him. Tried to kill him. I could not believe it of the kind, decent-seeming man I had met. ‘He spoke to you and asked for your help?’
‘No, Miss. He sent Miss Trenton a note.’
I heard Lucian’s sharp intake of breath, but he kept quiet.
‘A lad gave it to her when we were walking in the Square. He was careful, because we’d got one of the footmen with us as usual. But he didn’t see. And when we got back here my lady read it and cried a bit – happy tears, like. Then she read it to me.’
‘You didn’t read it?’
‘No, Miss. I can’t read, only a few words.’
‘But she recognised the handwriting?’
‘I suppose so, Miss. He’s sent notes before and she hid them away and kept taking them out and reading them, so she’d know his hand.’
What did it say? As accurately as possible.’