Secrets of Sloane House(63)

Feeling more than a bit confused, Rosalind sat.

After a sigh, Mrs. Sloane said, “Rosalind, it has come to my attention that you have continued to push the boundaries of acceptability. Definitely below the expectations of this household.” Staring hard at Rosalind, she paused. Obviously, she was waiting for Rosalind to protest or defend herself.

Rosalind said nothing, though. She was feeling rather tired of defending herself to both Mrs. Sloane and the other servants in the household. She was also becoming weary of being told to act in an acceptable way while both Douglass and Veronica were allowed to behave so poorly. Though she wasn’t the green, naive girl she’d been when she first arrived at the house, it still smarted a bit to be on the losing end of such a double standard.

Mrs. Sloane raised her brows at Rosalind’s silence, cleared her throat, then spoke, her voice even darker and more disapproving. “Under normal circumstances, we would be asking for you to leave. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that isn’t going to be possible.”

“Why?” Rosalind asked.

The housekeeper intercepted Mrs. Sloane’s answer and answered with a sigh. “It seems that Nanci has left us. Being her roommate, we were hoping you could shed some light on her disappearance.”

She leaned forward, completely jolted. “What? Was this planned?”

“Did she not share any of her plans with you?”

“No, ma’am. I’m afraid we haven’t been talking too much. We had a falling out.”

Both women sent Rosalind looks that signaled they weren’t in the least surprised. “When did you last see her?” Mrs. Sloane asked.

“Last night at the servants’ dinner.”

“She didn’t come to your room last evening?”

“She hadn’t by the time I went to sleep.”

“And this didn’t alarm you?” Mrs. Sloane looked incredulous.

“I thought maybe she was attending Miss Veronica late last night. Sometimes we catch catnaps in the servants’ sitting room while waiting to be called to help undress hair or prepare bedrooms.”

She didn’t dare add that she’d wondered if Nanci could have been with Douglass for at least part of the night. It didn’t seem in character for Nanci, but certainly stranger things had happened in the house, and more than one footman told tales of helping women slip out the door in the early morning hours.

“I see,” Mrs. Sloane murmured, though it was obvious she didn’t believe her.

Mrs. Abrams studied Rosalind. “And what about this morning? Do you really mean to say that you didn’t see her at all?”

“I woke up about ten minutes late, and noticed right away that Nanci’s bed was neatly made.”

“And did you remark on it to Cook? To anyone downstairs?”

“I’m afraid I did not.” Nerves threatened to get the best of her. Her hands started to shake a bit. Not wanting the other women to see how affected she was by Nanci’s disappearance—and by their disdain—Rosalind clasped her hands tightly together.

When she caught her composure, she said, “I assumed that Nanci had risen before me and had gone to do her duties. As I said, we had a disagreement and had been avoiding each other.”

“Before I went to fetch you,” Mrs. Abrams informed her, “I went to your room and inspected it. Her clothes have been removed. She must have packed up her things in the middle of the night.”

On one hand, that gave Rosalind a bit of relief. Surely Nanci wouldn’t have packed a bag if she’d been in danger. But on the other hand, she thought about Douglass and the way Nanci had looked at him—at least before the incident at Wooded Island. Was she—still?—so smitten that she would do anything he asked of her . . . even become his mistress?

Her imagination continued to run wild. Perhaps someone from the fair had lured her away. Perhaps at this very moment Nanci was trapped in an impossible situation, just waiting for someone, anyone, to help her.

“Do you think she is all right?” she blurted. “Should we ask the police to become involved?”

“We shall do no such thing,” Mrs. Abrams said sharply.

“But she could be in danger.”

The housekeeper’s gray eyes flashed. “You are forgetting yourself, Rosalind.”

Rosalind knew she was stepping out of bounds. But there was still that knowledge that Nanci was the only person in the house to whom she’d told her suspicions about Miranda. Had Nanci said something to the wrong person? “I am merely concerned about Nanci.”

“I understand your concern, but I am afraid it is misplaced.” Mrs. Sloane raised a reprimanding brow. “A missing housemaid, especially one who has packed her bags, is certainly no reason to set up an alarm to the authorities. Besides, what would we say, exactly? That she left without telling us good-bye?”