The Heiress of Linn Hagh by Karen Charlton Page B

asked.
    ‘She’s on her half-day, but she’ll be back soon. Both servants heard my sister put down the bar on the door just after nine that night.’
    ‘And no one else saw or heard anything?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Has this room been cleaned since Miss Carnaby’s disappearance?’
    ‘She was expected to clean her own room. The servants had enough to do without running after her.’
    ‘What kind of a young woman is Miss Carnaby?’ Woods asked.
    Lavender appreciated the distraction his constable was causing. Carnaby was clearly irritated with the questions, and his attention was now directed entirely at Woods.
    ‘We haven’t seen much of her for the last ten years while she’s been away at school. She came back to nurse her mother while she was dying.’
    ‘How would you describe Miss Helen’s character?’
    ‘She’s a spoilt piece,’ Carnaby snapped. ‘She always wanted extra coal for her fire—or different food from the rest of us. She ran the servants ragged with her demands and drove Izzie to distraction.’
    ‘Izzie? Is this your other sister, Miss Isobel Carnaby?’
    ‘Aye, that’s right. Izzie runs Linn Hagh for me. Helen was the baby of the family and the only child of my father’s second marriage. My father and his silly wife doted on her, spoilt her—and that school she went to filled her head with fancy ideas.’
    Lavender lifted the trailing bedcover and moved to inspect beneath the bed. There, next to the cracked chamber pot, he finally found what he was looking for—the stub end of a candle. He pocketed it stealthily, slid back out and stood up.
    ‘Where is Miss Isobel Carnaby now?’ he asked.
    ‘She’s also in Bellingham at the Saturday market. She’ll be back before dark, if you want to talk to her. Sometimes she comes back with the maid.’
    ‘No. We’ll probably call back here next week and talk to her then. We’d better get back to Bellingham now.’
    ‘Send word if you plan to come here again,’ Carnaby growled.
    Lavender brushed the filth and the sawdust from his coat and breeches. ‘Constable Woods tells me that those horses Beddows provided are a poor show, and at least one of them is likely to die beneath us on the way back to town. I’d like us to be able to walk back before dark falls if that happens. I understand the woods around here are riddled with robbing gypsies and beggars?’
    Carnaby shrugged. ‘My father was soft. He should have burnt those bloody faws off his land a long time ago.’
    ‘Mmm, that is what everyone keeps saying. But he didn’t; your father let them stay—and so have you,’ Lavender observed. ‘I wonder why?’
    Alarm flashed in Carnaby’s eyes.
    ‘Don’t you want to see the rest of Linn Hagh?’ he asked hurriedly. ‘Save you the trouble of coming up here again.’
    ‘Not today.’ Lavender smiled. ‘Today I’ve seen and heard enough.’

Chapter Eight
    A nna was halfway back to Linn Hagh when she saw the three horsemen on the road ahead of her. In the failing light, she couldn’t make them out at first, but as she drew nearer, she recognised the slight figure and untrimmed sideburns of Constable Beddows. He was talking to the dark-haired man riding beside him. This man wasn’t listening to Beddows; he was watching Anna approach. She pulled her cloak tighter, stared straight ahead and quickened her pace.
    ‘Miss Jones?’ The man had a funny accent. She stopped and turned towards him. His features were mostly hidden beneath the shadow cast by his hat, but he had a long, sharp nose.
    ‘Miss Jones, I’m Detective Stephen Lavender from Bow Street in London. Mr Armstrong has employed me to try to find out what has happened to your mistress. I need to talk to you.’
    Anna recoiled slightly. George Carnaby had threatened all the servants with dismissal if they talked to the authorities without either him or Miss Isobel present. Yes, she wanted to find out Miss Helen was safe, but as the miserable days since her disappearance had