Death Among Rubies by R. J. Koreto Page A

respect for authority to not inquire why a lady was asking these questions.
    Owen nervously slid his finger around his collar. “Well, if you put it like that, my lady, I will admit that I did take an evening walk with Leonie.”
    I bet it was a lot more than a walk , thought Frances.
    “However, we didn’t see anyone that night. We, ah, paused, by the gardener’s shed near the formal gardens, my lady, but we had the place to ourselves.”
    “Are you absolutely sure?”
    “Yes, my lady.” She studied him—he wasn’t lying outright, but there was something he was nervous about. She wasn’t going to give up. Frances just kept looking up at him, and eventually he spoke again. “But the night previous, my lady—the night before the dinner party that ended in the master’s death—that evening, Leonie and I did see two people in the gardens.” He took a deep breath. “It was the master, my lady.”
    “I take it this was unusual?”
    “Unheard of, my lady. The master was very regular in his habits. He’d have a last cigar and brandy in his study and then straight to bed. He never went out after dark. His schedule was so regular you could set your watch by him, my lady.”
    “And who was he with?”
    “Mrs. Sweet, my lady. She’s a widow who rents a cottage on the estate and was also a guest at the dinner party the following night. She’s been here for dinner before, with all what we called the local worthies, my lady—squires, the vicar, solicitor, doctor and so forth. But they’ve never been out walking.”
    “Did you hear them say anything?” At that, Owen became uncomfortable. This time, she was asking a servant about eavesdropping—and repeating a master’s conversation was a major sin below stairs. But of course, the master was dead.
    “Just one thing, my lady. I was distracted.” As he realized what he said, his cheeks flamed. Leonie’s sultry face and supple body—of course Owen was distracted. “I beg your pardon, my lady. But I heard Sir Calleford say one thing to Mrs. Sweet. He said, ‘It won’t always be like this.’ Or something very close to that. But if she said anything, I didn’t hear it.”
    Frances nodded. “Thank you, Owen. You’ve been very helpful—you may go back to your duties.”
    “Very good, my lady.”
    “One piece of advice—do be careful. You’ve begun what could be an excellent career in service in a great house—you don’t want to complicate it. And thank you again for being careful with my luggage.”
    Frances turned and left. Owen might’ve stood there the rest of the afternoon gaping after Lady Frances, but the other footman said, “Hey! I could use a little help here.” And so he shook his head and went back to work.

C HAPTER 6
    M allow had received instructions from her mistress to keep an ear out for gossip. Servants always knew what was going on, especially in a place like the Eyrie with a large staff. Of course, one had to give gossip in order to get it, and a proper lady’s maid did not gossip about her mistress. But Lady Frances had approved areas of discussion that were fair game for Mallow to relate to other servants.
    Nothing worked with Jenkins, Mrs. Blake’s maid. As they were equals, they might’ve chatted, but Jenkins proved quiet and moody—almost sullen. She had showed Mallow her room and reminded her of when she needed to dress Lady Frances, and that was it.
    Downstairs, however, over tea in the servants’ hall, the large staff was more welcoming, and more than a little curious about Lady Frances, a member of a powerful aristocratic family. Mr. Pennington oversaw the proceedings with a strict eye, but allowed a certain latitude to talk to a visiting servant.
    The servants were subdued, but not in mourning. Again, most of them hadn’t really known the master, and for the young maids in particular, who didn’t even serve at dinner, the event was more thrilling than tragic. After all, life in the country with a semi-retired