it be made suitable for Isabella and her nursemaid.
The arrangement was irregular, but not necessarily suspicious, as long as it didn’t end with Lord Darlington creeping up to Amy’s cot and holding a pillow over her face.
“I came to Darlington Castle after Lady Darlington passed,” Amy said, “But Mrs. Briggs said as her ladyship liked having Isabella close by her, as well.”
Whatever his servants truly thought of Lord Darlington, they were all in agreement about his late wife. Cassandra, Lady Darlington had, by all accounts, been as lovely and kind a lady as one could hope to find. All the servants, from Mrs. Briggs down to the scullery maid, described her as the sweetest of angels.
An angel called to heaven far too soon.
“To hear Mrs. Briggs tell it,” Amy went on, “Lady Darlington doted on Isabella. She couldn’t have loved that child more if she’d been her own. Treated her like a daughter, she did.”
Cecilia’s eyebrows rose. Amy spoke as if Isabella had no mother aside from her aunt, but no one in the castle had said a word about the child being an orphan. “Where is Isabella’s mother, Amy?”
Amy shook her head. “She’s been gone these six months now. Poor lady said she couldn’t bear to stay here after Lady Darlington passed.”
“Where has she gone?” Cecilia wasn’t willing to let it drop. She didn’t like to push too hard, but subtlety had gotten her nowhere so far. It was only a few short weeks until Lord Darlington’s wedding to Fanny Honeywell. Those days would pass quickly, and Cecilia needed answers before then.
Amy dropped down onto the edge of her cot with a sigh. “She’s in London now, and meant to be marrying the Marquess of Aviemore this spring.”
It was the first time anyone had offered any information at all about Isabella’s mother, Lady Leanora, other than that she’d been wife to Nathanial Rhys, the current Lord Darlington’s elder brother, who’d died three years ago. Cecilia wasn’t certain what had happened to him. She’d gathered it was some sort of accident, but no one in the castle spoke much about either him or his absent wife.
“But why would she leave Isabella behind?” It didn’t make any sense.
Amy glanced at Isabella, then scooted to the edge of the cot and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Mrs. Briggs said Lady Leanora thought Isabella would be better off here with Lord Darlington until she’d settled. There was some talk of her going to the Continent, you see.”
“My goodness,” Cecilia murmured. “It’s all rather unfortunate, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and that’s not the whole of it. A few months after Lady Leanora left, Lord Darlington was obliged to dismiss Isabella’s nursemaid, Mrs. Vernon. The woman stole a gold crucifix that had belonged to Lady Cassandra that was meant to be saved for Isabella.” Amy’s mouth tightened. “Stealing from a child! Can you imagine? And you may be sure it’s no coincidence those dreadful rumors about the Murderous Marquess started just after she left.”
Cecilia gasped. “But that’s awful, Amy!”
“It is,” Amy agreed with a sigh. “First poor Lady Darlington dies, then Isabella’s mother goes away, and then her nursemaid turns out to be a thief. All of them gone, one after the next, just like that.” Amy snapped her fingers.
Cecilia glanced at Isabella, tucked so sweetly into her bed, and a tiny fissure opened in her heart. She was no stranger to tragedy, having lost her parents in a fire when she was four. She only remembered them in broken images, or in traces she caught here and there of familiar scents. She did remember the miserable years she’d spent in London at the Foundling Hospital, and later, trying to dig a living from the muddy depths of the Thames.
If it hadn’t been for Lady Clifford, she’d likely be dead by now. Cecilia was tremendously grateful to her, but as much as she loved Lady Clifford, there’d always been an ache inside her, a blank space where her memories of her parents should have been. She hated to think Isabella was destined to suffer that same emptiness.
Amy tutted. “You get on to bed now, Cecilia. You look done in.”
Cecilia rose unsteadily to her feet. “Yes, all right. Good night, Amy.”
Amy patted her arm. “Good night.”
Cecilia closed the door quietly behind her and made her way down the hallway toward the other side of Lady Darlington’s bedchamber, where her own little room was, her head spinning with a thousand thoughts and questions.
What had happened to Lord Darlington’s