A few moments later a neatly dressed middle-aged woman came into the chamber.
Adam stood and introduced himself. "You are Mrs. Thornton?" he asked.
"I am." Mrs. Thornton looked at Emma.
"I," Emma said, "am Simon Hastings' niece, and I should like to ask you some questions about him. Please sit."
The housekeeper sat on a wooden arm chair facing Emma. Her face went somber as she offered Emma condolences. "Your uncle was greatly looking forward to you coming. He authorized me to completely refurnish our prettiest bedchamber for you." She sighed. "I wish you could have seen it."
"I do, too," Emma said solemnly. "How I wish I could have seen my uncle, gotten to know him. I feel so cheated."
"He said you were an orphan, and he was responsible for you."
Emma's eyes misted. "I haven't come here to talk about me. I need to know about my uncle, need to know about his . . . death. I understand my uncle spent a good deal of time in his library."
"Indeed he did, miss. He loved to read by the fire. Always in his same shabby chair. Even though he was a wealthy man, he loved that chair!"
Emma cracked a smile. "Did he, by chance, give orders that his library not be cleaned regularly?"
Mrs. Thornton folded her hands in her lap. "I wonder how you should know that! He did not want the parlor maid disturbing his books at all. The library was the only room that wasn't cleaned daily. Though cleaning was not included in my duties, I personally cleaned Mr. Hastings' library on the first day of each month. I was the only one he trusted. He kept private papers in his desk there."
"How long did you serve my uncle?
Now, Mrs. Thornton's eyes misted. "Since the day he moved into his house five-and-twenty years ago."
"I am sorry for your loss," Emma said to her. "You and my uncle must have gotten on very well, and you must have been pleased to make your home on Curzon Street with him."
"He was the kindest man. No one could ever have a finer employer. I miss him dreadfully. He did leave me a nice legacy. I plan to tuck away my earnings here on Camden Street for ten years. They should be enough to buy me a little cottage somewhere in the country. I'll have a garden for my food, and your uncle's pension to tide me over year in, year out for the rest of my life. I owe much to him."
Adam wanted to change the topic before both women got too weepy. "We have received a list of Mr. Hastings' servants," Adam said. "It appears it was a fairly small staff. A valet. One cook. Two parlor maids. A butler and housekeeper."
"Mr. Hastings lived alone. He never entertained and rarely had visitors. His eating tastes were simple, hence a single scullery worker," Mrs. Thornton said.
"Do you know men named Jonathan Booker or Sidney Wolf?" he asked.
She shook her head.
Adam blew out a breath. "Was it Mr. Hastings' custom to give all the servants the entire day and night off every Sunday?"
Mrs. Thornton nodded. "From the day he bought the house. He once told me he looked forward to being completely alone one day a week." She paused, her eyes downcast. "The butler said Mr. Hastings told him he liked to walk about the house without his clothes. I believed Mr. Hastings was just jesting."
Adam chuckled.
"You mean his servants were not even allowed to stay in their own rooms on Sundays?" Emma asked.
"Only if they were sick. He encouraged us to go to Sunday service. Then we could do whatever we wished—walk about in the park or visit friends or family. "
"What hours were the servants gone on Sunday?" Adam asked.
"We usually left by nine in the morning and returned anywhere between nine at night and midnight."
"Did my uncle say he was expecting a visitor the night he died?"
Mrs. Thornton shook her head. "Your uncle normally did not have visitors. He said he dealt with many people at the tea company all day, that he enjoyed a quiet home. He only used three chambers: the library, his bedchamber, and the dinner room."
"Had my uncle been sick before his death? Had he missed going to the tea company?"
The housekeeper shook her head. "He had not been sick at all."
"Finding his body," Adam said in a grave voice, "must have been a harrowing experience, and I'm very sorry you had to be the one, Mrs. Thornton. I'm even more sorry that I have to ask you some questions about that morning."
She shut her eyes tightly. "It was horrible. I shall never be able to efface that vision from my mind." She shook her head and peered at Emma. "It's very hard to lose someone you care for, but to see them like that- - -" She burst into tears.