Secrets of Sloane House(81)

He saw only her profile, but he could tell that she was visibly struggling to retain her composure. “I see.” With deliberate movements, she set down the clippers and reached for the basket.

When both were resting on the stone wall behind her, she stepped to the French doors. “Perhaps we should sit down.”

He did the honors with the doors, then followed her back into the solarium. After she was seated, he seated himself in a sturdy-looking wicker chair at her right. Though he did his best to appear composed, inside, he was calling himself ten types of a fool. What had he been thinking? Paying a call on an elegant woman like Eloisa and being such a stumbling cad.

“Eloisa, perhaps I misspoke. What I meant to say is that I think an, uh, alliance between the two of us would be beneficial to both of us.”

She neatly folded her hands. “A beneficial alliance? You intrigue me.” Yet the tone of her voice indicated she was feeling anything but intrigued.

“I hold you in high esteem.”

“We hardly know each other, Mr. Armstrong.”

“That can be remedied.”

“It could, if we both wanted that.”

“I do.” As soon as he heard his tone, he winced. He didn’t sound as enthused as he sounded resigned. “I mean, I would like to get to know you better.”

“Ah.” She stared at him a good, long time. Then a new light of amusement lit her pale blue eyes. “And your other reason to see me?”

He paused, mentally debating whether to divulge Rosalind’s secret or to keep it to himself a little longer. Rosalind desperately needed to know there was someone she could trust, and he was reluctant to break her faith in him.

However, he also knew time was of the essence, and that Eloisa Carstairs was the type of woman to help Rosalind’s search in any way she could.

Surely Rosalind would care more about that than anything else?

Taking a deep breath, he plunged ahead. “I’ve stumbled upon a housemaid down on her luck and I need your help.”

“Care to explain?”

“Her name is Rosalind. Rosalind Pettit, but now that I think about it, I’m not even sure if that is her real name,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that she was a maid for the Sloane family, but she was only there to investigate the disappearance of her sister.”

“Investigate? Is she sleuthing?”

“She is. Well, she was. Her sister, Miranda, obtained a job at the Sloane mansion for two months and was sending money home. She disappeared, though. Without a trace.”

Eloisa leaned forward, her expression intent. Her attention obviously riveted. “What do you mean, without a trace?”

“One day, she simply wasn’t there.”

“What about her belongings?”

“Most of them were left behind.”

“Still, she probably ran off. Some maids do that . . .”

“Rosalind’s father came to Chicago and visited the house. The Sloanes were vague and disinterested, the police even less so.”

“Yes, if they thought the sister merely left.”

“However, Rosalind’s father believed everyone there knew more than they were letting on. So Rosalind volunteered to come to Chicago to try to find her sister.”

“Has she discovered anything?”

“No, though she did say that Douglass paid another maid to leave the house after he discovered she was with child.”

“He gave her money?”

“Yes.” Reid hoped she understood everything he wasn’t saying.

Eloisa stared at him in shock. “That is a very serious offense, Reid.”

“I agree. And I wouldn’t have given much credence to it, except I was with Douglass when he was with the other maid. I’ve been in the house and witnessed the way he treated Rosalind. I don’t know what happened to Rosalind’s sister, but I do think that more has been going on than anyone wants to admit.”

“I see.”

It struck him, then, that Eloisa was not shocked by the allegations against Veronica or Douglass. “Have you heard rumors?”

“I’ve heard rumors about Douglass,” she said quietly. She looked at the doorway. “I wouldn’t want this bandied about, but more than one girl has alluded that he behaved less than gentlemanly with her. They were afraid to be alone with him.”

“I’ve heard rumors as well.” He stared at her, noted the concern in her eyes. “Eloisa, I must also admit something else. Though I can imagine Douglass, uh, behaving like a cad, I can’t imagine him accosting a maid.”

“I would have to agree.” Her eyes narrowed. “So that begs the real question, Reid.”