Witherspoon was beginning to understand. “You mean
that while Sir George was alive, they couldn’t marry. Didn’t
he think Mr. Brent was a suitable husband for his daughter?”
Fiona laughed harshly. “Oh, Sir George had no objection
to the marriage, he liked Raleigh well enough, but he refused to give Lucinda a dowry or a settlement. Lucinda was furious when Sir George told her he wouldn’t fund her
dowry.”
“How do you know this?” Witherspoon asked.
“I heard them quarreling,” she replied. “It happened
when I first arrived. Raleigh had gone upstairs to freshen
up, but I needed to send a quick note to my housekeeper in
London. I wanted to borrow some paper from the Sir
George’s study, so I went down the hall, but before I could
go inside, I heard the two of them arguing. Lucinda was
shouting at Sir George that he was ruining her life and her
one chance at happiness. He shouted back that he didn’t
care. I’d never heard her talk that way to her father before,
that’s how I know she was furious. But he wouldn’t budge.
He was quite cruel. He said to her, “ ‘Look, old girl, you’re
simply too old for such nonsense.’ ” She giggled maliciously.
“She was, you know. No matter how hard she tries to
pretend, she’s well into her forties, and she looks every day
of it.”
*
*
*
Mrs. Jeffries and the Silent Knight
79
Mrs. Goodge handed her guest a cup of freshly made coffee.
“I’m glad you could come, it’s been such a long time since
we’ve seen each other, Hilda.”
“It has been a long time.” Hilda Bradford bobbed her
gray head in agreement. She was a few years younger than
the cook, but as she was a housekeeper and not a cook, her
frame was a good deal thinner than her companion’s. “I
heard from Ida Leahcock that you’re now working for a police detective. Do you like it here?”
“Indeed, I do. He’s a very nice master, he treats me and
the other servants like human beings, not slaves. The wages
are much better, too, and the work is easier. I don’t have to
do those awful eight-course dinners anymore. How about
you? Are you still keeping house for Lord Grimethorpe?”
Hilda made a face. “Yes, and he’s still a stingy old sod,
too. But it’s not for much longer. I’m joining my daughter
in America next spring, so I suppose I can put up with him
for a few more months”
“Then I’m glad I sent you that note. America’s a long
way off, and I’d have felt bad if I’d not seen you before you
left. You and I worked together a long time.”
Hilda laughed. “That we did, and we had a few chuckles
along the way. What’s it like working for your detective?
Do you ever hear about his cases?”
“Oh, yes, he’s investigating this one from down in
Richmond.”
“You mean Sir George Braxton?” Hilda helped herself to
one of Mrs. Goodge’s buns.
“That’s right.”
“I’ve seen the fellow. He’d been to Grimethorpe’s for supper a time or two. He wasn’t a particularly well-liked person. Even amongst his own kind.”
“What do you mean?” Mrs. Goodge leaned forward eagerly.
80
Emily Brightwell
“He was a miserly sort,” she replied. “He gave those
daughters of his a pittance for an allowance, and he practically starved his household.” She took a quick sip of coffee.
“He may have been a baronet, but he couldn’t keep servants.
These days, people won’t put up with bein’ poorly fed and
worked like plough horses. Not only that, but I’ve heard his
youngest daughter is just like him. She can pinch a penny so
tight the copper curdles. Mind you, I also heard she does
have a way of making money grow.”
“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Goodge said. “How can she
make money grow?”
“Investments,” Hilda replied. “She’s been handling all
the family money for years now. It saved Sir George having
to pay fees for financial services. You ought to have heard
Lord Grimethorpe ranting and raving when he heard about
it.” She grinned. “He’d just paid out some huge fees to his
brokers for some Brazilian bonds that were no good, so he
was looking for something to shout about. Mind you, the
girl’s done a good job. Unlike a lot of aristocratic families,
the Braxtons have got a bit of money. That annoys Lord
Grimethorpe as well. His family are a pack of fools, money
goes through their hands like water.”
Mrs. Goodge shook her head in amazement. “That’s really strange, isn’t it? Back in our day, no woman would dream of handling money, and now the daughter of a
baronet is acting as a financial manager!”
“Good for her, I say,” Hilda said stoutly.
“What about Sir George’s other children?” Mrs. Goodge
asked. The nice thing about Hilda was she loved to gossip
so much she never thought it odd that others were equally
curious.
“He’s got two other daughters, and they’re odd ducks as
well,” she continued. “The middle one supposedly likes to
Mrs. Jeffries and the Silent Knight
81
travel so much that she hired herself out as a companion a
couple of years back so she could go to Italy. Have you ever
heard of such a thing? Scandalous it was, but they say the
old man didn’t care, that he had a good laugh over it and
told the girl to enjoy herself. Not that any of them are girls,
they’re all in their forties, if they’re a day.”
“What about the eldest daughter?” Mrs. Goodge asked.
Hilda peered thoughtfully toward the window. “The
only gossip I’ve ever heard about Lucinda Braxton is that
she’s got a foul temper. I expect she inherited that from her
father as well.”
“Those no-good pole cats,” Luty Belle Crookshank muttered
darkly as she crept up the back stairs and down the corridor
toward her bedroom. “Think they can tuck me away and
leave me out just because of a piddlin’ little sniffle, well, I’ll
show them.” She coughed harshly, a deep nasty one that
seemed to well out of the pit of her belly and take every
ounce of strength she had just to stay on her feet.
“Madam, what on earth are you doing?” Hatchet came up
behind her. “You know you’re not supposed to be out of bed.”
She had to wait a moment to catch her breathe. “I’m fine,”
she whispered as she struggled to breathe. “I just got tired of
laying there and wanted to stretch my joints a little.”
He
