Bedford Street Brigade 02 - Love Unbidden (26 page)

Millie Shaw glanced back to make sure the children in the nursery were settled, then left the room. She walked down the hall and descended the stairs. She didn’t know what the meeting was about, but it must be terribly important for Lord Strothum to summon the entire staff to the servant’s hall. Millie was shocked when Lady Strothum had informed her that she would watch the children while Millie and Janie, Millie’s helper, went below stairs.

“What do you think is the matter?” Janie asked as they reached the bottom of the steps.

“I don’t know, but it must be serious. This is the first time I recall Lord Strothum calling the entire staff together. Usually, Rogers is the one who calls any meetings.”

“’Spose we’re getting the sack?”

Millie looked at the worried expression on Janie’s face. Janie was the oldest of six children, and a share of the wages she earned working for Lord Strothum helped her mother feed Janie’s brothers and sisters. “No, Janie. I doubt Lord Strothum is letting anyone go. Unless they’ve done something wrong.” That had to be it. Millie just wondered what that something was. She’d never known Lord Strothum to discipline an employee in front of the entire staff. That was the butler’s purview. And even Rogers, who’d been butler here for nearly a decade now, handled that particular part of his job with discretion.

No, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

Millie joined the rest of the staff as they filed into the room. The whispered comments around them echoed the same sentiments she and Janie had shared. They all wondered what had happened for their master to call such an important meeting. And important it was. Even Cook had left her kitchen to attend. And that never happened.

Two rows of chairs had been set up and the female staff members hesitantly took them while the men stood with their backs against the wall. Everyone eyed the person next to them, wondering if perhaps they knew the reason they’d been called together. It was indeed a somber
gathering.

Millie sat in a chair in the second row, and waited. When the Earl of Strothum arrived, Rogers closed the door. Everyone turned to watch his lordship make his way to the front of the room. But he wasn’t alone. Three other men were with him.

“Do you know the men with his lordship?” Janie whispered.

Millie shook her head. She’d never seen any of them before, but that didn’t mean they’d never been here. Although she had a room of her own down the hall from the nursery, she spent most of her time on the third floor with the children. She rarely got a glimpse of the visitors who came to see Lord or Lady Strothum.

Millie took note of the three men with Lord Strothum. They were each unique in their own way. All tall, with broad shoulders, and serious expressions. Their gazes studied the people in front of them as if they were memorizing faces so they could put names to them later.

The man standing closest to Lord Strothum seemed to be the oldest of the group, although one could hardly call him old. Perhaps thirty-two or thirty-three at most. Yet he was clearly in charge. He and Lord Strothum exchanged a few hushed words, then the earl turned to face his staff.

“I know you’re anxious to hear why I’ve called you here. I wish I could say the reason was pleasant, but it is not.”

The staff around her looked at each other with expressions that said, ‘See, I told you so’.

“First, allow me to present my guest. This is Mr. Mack Wallace.” Lord Strothum nodded toward the older man next to him. “He is director of the Bedford Street Brigade, a group of highly trained investigators.”

A hushed murmur settled over the staff. His lordship held up his hand to quiet them.

“With him are two of the three investigators he brought to assist him. They are Mr. Jack Conway…” A brown-haired young man of about twenty-six or twenty-seven gave the group a sharp nod. “…And Mr. Hugh Baxter.” A man with hair a lighter shade than the other offered the same greeting.

“A third investigator is still at the scene.”

There was the sound of hushed whispers as everyone repeated the word ‘scene’.

Lord Strothum continued. “This morning, Rogers and I discovered Jimmy Jamison’s body in the library.” The room went still. “He’d been murdered sometime during the night.”

Hushed murmurs erupted into loud whispers of shock and disbelief as many turned their gazes to where the butler Rogers stood at the side of the room in stoic solemnity.

There was a sharp intake of breath from several of the younger female staff members, then the sound of quiet sobbing.

Jimmy Jamison had been a handsome young footman with whom most of the young maids were madly in love. He’d proved his willingness to work hard, and Millie had overheard several of the upstairs maids comment that if Rogers didn’t watch out, Jimmy would be after his post.

“We assume that Jimmy happened upon some thieves attempting to break into the house. Since nothing was taken, we believe that our brave footman chased them off before he died.”

“A real hero that lad,” Cook said, dabbing her eyes with the corner of her apron.

“Yes, he was a hero,” Lord Strothum repeated. “Which is why Mr. Wallace and his investigators are here. Lady Strothum and I feel responsible for what happened and we don’t intend to let Jimmy’s death go unsolved.”

“Bless you, my lord,” several of the servants echoed.

“Mr. Wallace and his investigators will be here for the next several weeks. They will want to speak with each of you. I expect you to give them your full cooperation. One never knows when something you say may be of help.”

There was an exuberant murmuring of agreement.

“Is there anything you’d like to add, Mr. Wallace?” Lord Strothum said to the chief investigator.

“No, other than I’d like to thank each of you in advance for your assistance. My men will be here for some time, and I want to apologize for any inconvenience we might cause.”

“Your being here won’t be an inconvenience,” Lord Strothum added. “It will be our pleasure to assist in any way possible.”

This was followed by another murmur of agreement.

“If there’s nothing else—” Lord Strothum began, then stopped when the door opened.

Heads turned as a stranger entered the room. Evidently the third investigator. The one who’d stayed behind to study the area where Jimmy had been killed.

Millie turned to catch a glimpse of the man.

Her heart skipped a beat. Something inside her turned and tumbled. A million pinpricks stabbed her flesh.

“Allow me to present another of my investigators,” Mr. Wallace said as the broad-shouldered man walked toward the front of the room. “This is Roarke Livingston. He and Mr. Conway will be in charge of the
investigation and will be spending the most time here.”

Millie couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything except a face she thought she’d never see again. His features were etched firmly in her mind even though she’d only seen him that once. But his face was only one aspect she’d never forget about him. His name confirmed who he was.
Roarke Livingston.
The name of a man she’d hated for five years. The man who was responsible for her sister’s death.

Millie clutched her hands in her lap and glared at his handsome features. He was the most attractive man she’d ever seen. No wonder her sister had imagined herself in love with him.

He was dark in appearance, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. But Millie disliked him too intensely to appreciate his fetching features. He was everything she despised in a man. He used women for as long as he wanted them, then discarded them like so much spoiled meat. He coerced women with lies and false promises, then abandoned them without a care.

Millie thought of all the reasons she detested Roarke Livingston, and mulled over every plan of revenge she’d plotted to make him pay for what he’d done.

For more than five years, she’d imagined what she would say if she was ever close enough to speak to him. More than once, she’d imagined what she might do if she came within striking distance of him.

Oh, she hated him. Detested him with a passion that had consumed her since the night her sister had died in her arms crying Roarke Livingston’s name.

Millie glowered more intensely, then tried to blink away the abhorrence that consumed her. Only then did she realize that he’d been watching her. That his gaze was locked with hers. That he’d seen—and understood—the intense loathing in her eyes.

She rose to her feet and turned away from him as if she was repulsed by the sight of him. Because she was.

As she made her way back to the nursery, she uttered the prayer she’d repeated nearly every day since her sister had died.

That Roarke Livingston would go to hell for what he’d done.

. . . . .

When the room was empty, Roarke followed Mack and Lord Strothum into Strothum’s study.

“Do you think they believed me?” Strothum asked after he’d closed the door.

“All of them except anyone who was working with Jimmy,” Mack answered. “
If
the others are among your staff.”

“How long has Jimmy been with you?” Hugh asked.

“Nearly two years. He came highly recommended by the Duke of Marmley. I investigated him thoroughly, as I have all my staff since I was appointed to the government committee that oversees military ordinances and equipment.”

“Tell us again what happened,” Roarke said after the five of them took the cups of tea Lord Strothum offered. They took chairs on the far side of the room where they could converse without fear of being heard through the closed door.

“It’s as I said. I’d been working late in my office.”

“Is that where your papers are located?”

“Yes. I have a separate room where I keep all the important information sent by Lord Panmure.”

“And Lord Panmure is?” Jack asked.

“Baron Panmure. He was appointed the Secretary of State for War in February of this year.”

“Who filled the post before him?”

“The Duke of Newcastle.”

“Go on,” Mack said, relaxing into his chair and taking in everything Strothum said.

“I told Rogers to send the staff to bed, that I’d close up when I finished. It wasn’t until I went to bed that I couldn’t remember if I’d doused the last lamp when I left the room. I put on my robe and came downstairs. That’s when I saw him.”

“Jimmy Jamison, you mean?”

“Yes. I saw a light beneath the door and thought I’d left the lamp lit, so I opened the door to put out the lamp. Jimmy was trying to open the safe on the wall behind my desk.” Lord Strothum placed his cup and saucer on the nearest table and raked his fingers through his hair. “I closed the door to prevent him from escaping, then walked toward him. I asked him what he was doing, but he didn’t answer me.”

“Did he say anything at all?” Hugh Baxter asked.

Strothum shook his head. “He lunged for me. That’s when I noticed the knife in his hand. We scuffled and I thought he would kill me. He brought the knife down over me, and I grabbed his wrist and turned his hand. The knife went into his chest and he fell to the floor.”

“What did you do, then?”

“I had to sit for a few moments to collect myself, then I rang for Rogers. I penned a message and had him take it to Lord Panmure. Panmure sent a message back for me to secure the room and that he would send for you.”

Mack nodded.

“Did you allow Rogers to enter your office?” Roarke asked.

“No. I told him that Jimmy must have surprised some thieves trying to break into the house and they killed him. The papers in my office are highly classified. I lock them away whenever I leave the room.”

“Who knows where you keep them?” Mack asked.

“Until last night, I didn’t think anyone did.”

“Well, someone does. Probably more than one person,” Roarke added. “And they knew how to get to them.”

Lord Strothum sank back in his chair. “What now?”

Mack rose and they all followed suit. “That’s all for now. Jack and Roarke will stay here and question your staff. Hugh and I will find out what we can on the outside.”

“Very well,” Strothum said. “Anything I can do, just ask.”

“You’ve been most helpful.” Mack walked toward the door. They all followed.

Roarke stopped before they left the room. “One thing,” he said. “Who was the young lady who was the last to leave our meeting in the servants’ hall?”

Strothum’s eyebrows shot upward. “Miss Shaw. Millie Shaw. She’s the children’s nurse. But surely you don’t suspect—”

“No. No. I simply ask because she seemed to know me,” Roarke said, trying to make his question sound as innocuous as possible. “I just wondered if perhaps we’d met before.”

“And have you?”

Roarke shook his head. “Evidently not. The name isn’t familiar.”

Roarke tried to concentrate on what was being said as he followed Mack and the others from the room. But that was impossible. He couldn’t forget the overt hatred he’d seen in Millie Shaw’s eyes.

Nor did he think he’d misunderstood the unspoken message.