for however long you are in there. There was a nice, sunny spot near the last crossroad, beside a pretty stream. If you ask nicely and do not dare command, I may wait for you there.”
He gritted his teeth. “Would you be kind enough to wait so I may have a few words with you?”
She began to turn the horse. “Perhaps. Now you should attend to Mr. Edkins. He intends to go fishing soon.”
She moved the gig down the lane. With one more curse under his breath, he presented himself at the door with card in hand.
* * *
What did you tell that woman? Chase could not ask outright, much as he wanted to. Instead he asked his own questions and looked for signs that Mr. Edkins had heard them already, recently.
They settled into a pleasant sitting room with good light from handsome windows on the front of the house. The entire cottage had an appealing if spare appearance. This chamber held good proportions and a distinctive, carved mantel on the fireplace. The furniture, such as it held, showed quality. Mr. Edkins had spent wisely and well, and not been especially frugal. Of course with the pension he received in the will, he did not have to stint.
The man was younger than Uncle Frederick had been, perhaps fifty years old. The large pension he received had surprised the solicitor, and angered the family. He’s another fifteen years of service in him before a settlement like that, Dolores had complained. Uncle Frederick had thought differently, and now Mr. Edkins lived like a gentleman on a nice spot of land on a lake.
“I picked this cottage because I can fish whenever I want to.” Mr. Edkins waxed eloquent about his property when Chase complimented him on it. “Never could all those years. Missed it. Now I go out there whenever I fancy.” His thumb jabbed toward the back of the house.
“I am glad my uncle afforded you that ability,” Chase said. “Have you had much contact with his family or the servants from the houses?”
Edkins shook his head. “It is an odd thing. Hard to explain. When it is over, it is over. The people that filled your days—the family are employers, and the other servants are . . . like other monks in their cells, laboring in the monastery beside you.” He grinned at the analogy. “The friendships are all very formal.”
“I would have expected the longest serving of you to remain in contact. Letters and such.”
“I’ve sent a few and received a few. It was all so sudden and recent, wasn’t it? I expect in a few years we will write when something of interest leads us to.”
Chase resettled himself in the upholstered chair. “I have come to ask you some questions. I hope that you will share some information with me.”
Did he imagine that Mr. Edkins glanced to the window and out to the yard where Minerva had so recently been?
“Has anyone else already quizzed you about that night?” Chase asked. Damnation, what did you tell that woman?
“There was a man at the house, soon after His Grace died, before I left. He came for only a day and asked questions of many of us.”
“The magistrate?”
“I think so. I was so in shock that I did not much pay attention to his name and such. I didn’t care for his manner with us. He did not ask questions so much as bark them, if you understand me.”
“Did you answer his questions?”
Mr. Edkins assumed the bland expression that all servants knew how to wear. “Of course. Such as they were. He wanted to know what I knew about my master’s death. The answer was nothing at all. I was asleep at the time. He also wanted to know my master’s movements that day. I told him what I knew for certain because I had seen it. When he rose from bed, when he went below. I did not think it wise to report what I was told he would do, such as ride out or such as that. If I did not witness it, I did not tell this man it had happened.”
“Wise of you. What you heard would happen or did happen may not have happened, and including that could complicate the information.”
“Thank you, sir. Although I confess that I did it out of pique at this man’s manner. I admit that my goal was to give him as little as required.”