The man walked off, cake in hand, looking dazed. Behind her, Alexandra heard Peggy try—and fail—to suppress a snort of laughter. Glancing back, she gave her a small smile. She knew it was a bit odd to offer sweets to all and sundry, but the Chase ladies had always done so and been well loved for it, so she wasn't about to stop now.
"He should have invited us in," Peggy said disapprovingly.
"You're right, of course, but I believe he was a bit flustered."
Wearing a fashionable black dress—as befitted a daughter in mourning—Leticia appeared a minute later, approaching with small, graceful steps that A Lady of Distinction would surely approve. Tall and willowy, she had clear green eyes and beautiful flaxen hair swept up in a sophisticated style.
Try as she might, Alexandra couldn't bring herself to hate her. She knew what it felt like to lose a mother, and Leticia looked like a perfectly lovely young woman.
Until she opened her mouth.
"John told me you are Lady Hawkridge?"
"Yes." Alexandra wondered why Leticia's voice should sound so cold. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Armstrong. Please accept my condolences on the loss of your mother." Curious whether all the footmen here were called John, too, she reached into her basket. "May I offer you a—"
"You're not welcome here."
The sugar cake dropped from Alexandra's fingers. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me. The Hawkridge name has been disgraced. Please leave." Leticia began closing the door.
"Wait." Alexandra shoved a hand against the wood. She was reeling with shock, but she'd come here for a purpose. "Have you a maid here by the name of Beth?"
Leticia stared right through her.
"Beth is a dear friend of mine," Peggy said, stepping out from behind Alexandra. "My mistress brought me here to see her." Her voice dropped an octave, sounding pained and sympathetic. "I…have news concerning her family."
Peggy, Alexandra thought, was a consummate actress. She almost had her convinced the invented news was dire.
Apparently Leticia did have something approximating a heart, since she nodded at Peggy. "Come inside. I'll fetch Beth."
She pulled Peggy in by the arm and closed the door in Alexandra's face.
Alexandra stood there for a stunned moment, then walked slowly back to the carriage. There was nothing else to do. She climbed inside and waited, her stomach contracted into a tight knot that made nausea rise in her throat.
Although she'd known it wouldn't be easy to be the wife of a suspected murderer, she hadn't realized how it would feel to be disregarded. Leticia had gazed past her as though she wasn't even there.
Her heart ached for her sisters. This was the way they'd be treated. And, unlike her, they had no husbands to love, no one to hold in the night to make facing the disgrace a little easier.
It seemed forever before Peggy finally came out. "Beth knows nothing," she reported even before she entered the carriage.
"You asked her all the questions?"
"Everything you asked everyone else, my lady." She sat across from Alexandra. "Beth believes Lord Hawkridge died in his sleep."
"Thank you for trying," Alexandra said, her heart sinking even more. It seemed Tris's uncle had died in his sleep. And that was going to make it very hard—if not impossible—to prove Tris's innocence.
Very hard—if not impossible—to make life better for Juliana and Corinna.
In her dejected state, the ride home seemed twice as long as the ride out. Peggy, at least, was quite solicitous. "I'm sorry it didn't work out, my lady."
"It's not your fault." Alexandra tried for a grateful smile. "I truly appreciate the way you managed to worm your way in there."
Peggy shrugged. "Miss Armstrong is a witch."
Although Alexandra agreed, she didn't think it would be seemly to say so aloud. But though she knew it was wicked of her, she couldn't help being pleased that Miss Armstrong was still Miss Armstrong…still unmarried in all the years since she'd abandoned Tris.
"I don't like to see your heart in your boots," Peggy said. "Is there anything else I can do?"
She really was a dear. "I don't think so. Unless you can remember anyone else who might have worked at Hawkridge and since left."
Peggy frowned for a moment, then shook her head. "I cannot recollect anyone else."
"I think I will talk to everyone again, though, and see if anyone remembers any departed staff members. The possibility hadn't occurred to me before, so I never asked the others."
The maid was silent a moment. "If you don't mind my saying so, my lady…"
"Yes?" Alexandra knew Peggy had her best interests at heart. "Please, feel free to say anything."
"Well, it's just that I overheard you and his lordship discussing this the other night. Not that I was listening, you understand."
"We did raise our voices," Alexandra admitted, embarrassed.
"Yes. Well, and don't you expect he might be upset if you talk to everyone again?"
"I'm sure he will be." She sighed. "But I must do this. There's too much at stake." She ran her fingers along the chain that held her cameo. "I shall have to face his wrath and try to make the best of things."
Peggy folded her competent hands in her lap. "I could do it for you."
"Pardon?"
"I could ask all the others and make a list of any departed servants and their current whereabouts, if known. That way you'll have the information without angering his lordship by asking more questions."
"Oh, Peggy, would you?" It was a perfect solution. "I'd be forever grateful."
"Consider it done." Peggy smiled. "It might take me a day or two, mind you, since I'll have to work around my other duties."
"I understand," Alexandra assured her. "I shall be very undemanding until you are finished."
Once again, Peggy passed the time with a constant stream of chatter. Although she'd regained a shred of hope, Alexandra felt exhausted by the time they returned home. Perhaps breathing the gas had affected her more than
