Secrets of Sloane House(95)

“But you did compromise her,” Reid pointed out.

Douglass raised a brow. “Can a maid be compromised? I’m not sure.” He cleared his throat. “Regardless, she was an uppity thing too. Threatened to tell all sorts of people.” He laughed. “She actually said she had proof that I’d molested other women as well.”

“What kind of proof?”

Douglass’s expression tightened, but it was obvious that he was determined to act blasé. “She said she’d talked to other women . . . and even a lady. That they were willing to damage their reputations to bring out the truth. They were even going to tell the police, if you can believe that.”

Rosalind stepped forward. “What happened next to her?”

“Nothing,” Douglass blurted. “She made all these threats . . . then one day she was gone.”

Looking at Veronica, Rosalind said quietly, “Do you know what happened?”

“I know nothing.”

“But Nanci said her belongings were left here. She wouldn’t have left on her own without her clothes.”

Veronica shrugged. “I truly have no idea what happened to her, Rosalind. I knew Douglass had made her his latest conquest, but that is all.” She looked at her mother after a split second. “Do you know, Mother? I now remember Nanci telling me that you went to their room and boxed up Miranda’s clothes for the workhouse.”

Mrs. Sloane’s expression tightened, but she said nothing.

“I remember you threatening her,” Douglass said to his sister. “I remember you continually asking her to deliver your breakfast tray and that she was often white as a sheet whenever she left your room.”

“If I challenged her, I was justified,” Veronica said. “If I reminded her once or twice about our family’s power? Well, it was nothing more than the truth.”

Reid sighed. “I’ve heard enough. Rosalind, let’s go to the police. If we talk to them, maybe now they will, at the very least, consider investigating Miranda’s disappearance.”

Mrs. Sloane stood up. “Reid, you cannot involve the police.”

“We have no choice,” Mr. Sloane murmured. “As much as it pains me to admit it, there is a good chance that something untoward happened to the girl. It is in everyone’s best interests if we all cooperate.”

Mrs. Sloane looked from her husband to her daughter in obvious panic. “I think not.”

“We have no choice.”

“Of course we do. If we continue on as if nothing happened, no one will ever suspect anything.”

Mr. Sloane paused. “What do you mean, as if nothing happened?”

As Rosalind stared at Mrs. Sloane and saw a flash of guilt cross her features, she realized that she’d underestimated the formidable lady. “You’ve known what happened to Miranda all along, haven’t you?” she whispered.

“I’ve known what I needed to do to protect this family,” she replied.

Reid leaned forward. “What are you saying?”

She sighed. “I’m saying . . . I’m saying that our family’s reputation means more than each of us.” Turning, she glared at her children. “We’ve given you everything, but you didn’t understand the depth of your good fortune. Douglass, you let your spoiled, selfish nature threaten to ruin everything generations of Sloanes accomplished. And you, Veronica? You haven’t even been able to make a match. I had to do something.”

Silence filled the room as each person stared at her in shock.

Finally, Mr. Sloane asked the one question Rosalind assumed they were all thinking. “What did you do?”

“I got rid of her,” Mrs. Sloane bit out. “I took her down to the pier. By the lake. I pretended to fall. And then, when she bent down to assist me? I picked up a rock and hit her on the back of the head.”

Douglass jumped to his feet. “Mother!”

“I had to do something. Miranda was going to ruin you and Veronica. She was going to taint our name. Our reputation! And the fair had just opened. Anyone who is anyone was here in Chicago and would have heard about it. We could have been ruined.”

It took everything Reid had inside him to force out the next words. “What did you do after you hit her?”

“I dumped her into the lake.”

Her husband’s color turned ashen. “What?”

“I had no choice, Clayton. We had to protect our name.”

As the rest of the group stared at Mrs. Sloane in dumbfounded silence, Rosalind felt her heart break. She was almost too proud to show her tears, almost too proud to let them know just how overcome she was. But she couldn’t help but let out a sob. And then Mr. Sloane, of all people, reached over and handed her one of his monogrammed white handkerchiefs.