Page 65 of Betting on a Duke
Well, that explained why they had never heard from Kirkland. He hoped the man hadn’t sustained a head injury.
Samuel looked over at Clarice. He was worried about how quiet she was, listening to them talk about her father and what he had done as though she weren’t in the room.
“My lord,” Ramsbury’s valet said as he entered the room and bowed. “Chambers in the west wing have been prepared for you and the baroness and another for His Grace and one for Lady Chesterfield. Clothing has been laid out.”
“Thank you, Hennesey. We should make ourselves presentable for when the constable arrives.”
Samuel and Clarice followed Ramsbury and Anna, who followed Hennesey as he led them past the salon they had been in earlier and down the hall to the prepared rooms. Clarice’s room was across the hall from Samuel’s. When she opened it, he was surprised to see a maid waiting to assist her. “I’ll be right across the hall. I’ll knock whenI’m ready.”
Instead of speaking, she nodded her head, her eyes resembling those of a lost puppy. He fought back the guilt trying to swallow him. He entered his room and found Wallace waiting for him. Thankfully he had been sleeping in the servants’ quarters on the top floor of the main part of the house.
“There is hot water, soap, and linens to wash with, Your Grace.”
Samuel dropped the shawl he still had wrapped around himself and began to wash away the ash and smoky smell from the fire.
“The baron is not as tall as you are, I’m afraid, so the breeches, waistcoat, and jacket might be a bit short. The good news is, you have the same shoe size, and I found boots for you.”
“I don’t care, Wallace. I just need something to wear.” He paused, then hurried on. “I also want to ask you something about the night Stanton Hall burned down. Did you hear or see anything out of the ordinary? Or did anyone else who was also in the house and survived?”
Wallace frowned. “No. Not that I remember. It was very windy that night, thunder and lightning, but no rain. Everyone believed the house had been struck by lightning. And with the wind, it spread so fast. If I had been in your chambers instead of the kitchen having a drink because I couldn’t sleep, I’d be dead.”
“Christ, Wallace,” Samuel moaned. “I’m glad you couldn’t sleep.”
Dressed in respectable clothing, he exited the room and knocked on Clarice’s door. It opened, and she slipped out wearing a pretty yellow day dress with matching slippers. Her hair was combed and styled into a neat chignon.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he took her hand and they started walking.
“Better. I smell better, and my skin isn’t tinged with ash and soot.”
“You don’t need to be there when Ramsbury and I talk to the constable.”
“I understand that. But I have to,” Clarice said, exhaling.
“You must be exhausted after the ordeal, and the sun still hasn’t even properly risen.”
“I’m not so much as exhausted as anxious to get this visit with the constable over with,” she said, and Samuel understood the feeling.
