“Yes, ma’am.”
Mr Ashwood spent a few minutes surveying the brick wall. He crouched by the flowerbeds, his muscular thighs almost bursting from his breeches as he examined the borders. Then he brushed soil from his hands and asked to speak to the servants but not the maid.
The staff gathered around the kitchen table while the gentleman asked if they’d heard anything unusual the previous evening.
“We were taking supper, sir,” Bardsley explained, “and never heard a sound. The devil was as quiet as a mouse.”
Henry, the footman, and Cook supported the butler’s claim.
“All four of you ate supper?” Mr Ashwood asked. “Including Kathleen?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how long did you remain here?”
“About an hour, sir,” Bardsley replied.
“And no one has seen or heard from Mr Dunn since his sudden departure?”
“No, sir,” they all said in unison.
“Is anything missing from his room?”
They all turned to Henry, who shook his head.
Mr Ashwood studied them before saying, “That will be all for now.”
Next, having instructed Bardsley to summon her maid, Eva led Mr Ashwood to the drawing room where Mrs Gunning sat waiting.
“Do you recall your promise, Miss Dunn?” Mr Ashwood said after declining the offer of a seat. His voice was so utterly compelling he might tempt her to say anything. “You agreed I might intrude into your affairs.”
Eva swallowed past another rush of nerves. “Yes.”
“Then no matter what lies fall from my lips, I ask that you do not contradict me in front of your maid.”
Eva nodded. “As long as you’re not unkind.”
“Do you suppose I’m a man who treats servants with disrespect?” He cast Mrs Gunning a sidelong glance. The woman seemed aghast at the suggestion.
“Not at all. I merely wish to remind you I have a duty to protect my staff.”
“Noted.”
A light tap on the door brought Kathleen. The young woman bobbed a quick curtsy. She stood rigid, yet her gaze flicked nervously from side to side.
“Kathleen, this is Mr Ashwood. He is investigating the theft that occurred here last night and again this morning. He wants to ask you a few questions.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kathleen’s bottom lip quivered as she examined Mr Ashwood’s broad, athletic frame. The man radiated a power that would make the innocent drop to their knees and beg for clemency.
“Fear not,” he said and offered a smile to soften the hardest woman’s heart. “This will take but a moment, and then you may return to your duties.”
Kathleen clasped her hands and pursed her lips.
“Tell me exactly what was stolen this morning,” he continued.
The maid swallowed. “A petticoat and a pair of stockings, sir.”
“Was there anything else on the washing line?”