Here sits an accused murderer. Someone he might not want within a hundred miles of his patients, let alone living in his very house. The irony . . .
With all the courage she possessed, Rachel returned his gaze. Look him in the eye. He must not suspect she had any secrets to hide. Her future depended upon him believing her to be the most upright woman in the world.
“Being inside a prison must be very fearsome,” Rachel replied, grateful the shaking in her voice was just a tiny echo of the shudder moving through her body, relieved when the traffic cleared and they began moving again. “The most dreadful experience imaginable.”
The remainder of the trip to Dr. Edmunds’s residence passed in awkward silence. Although it might have only been awkward for Rachel. Dr. Edmunds simply seemed irritated, his back as stiff as a hitching post, his grip strangling the reins.
He bounded out of the gig when it stopped in front of a terrace house, the iron railing surrounding its area perfectly black, the steps gleaming white, the brass door knocker shining in the dim sunlight sifting through the clouds. The house of a gentleman.
Joe offered his hand to help her down, giving a wink before handing her carpetbag to her. “Welcome to the ’ouse of the esteemed Dr. James Edmunds. Beware what lies within.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see, miss.”
Two women waited in the entry hall. The younger one, dressed in a black frock topped with a crisp apron, was obviously the maid. The other, imperious in widow’s weeds, scrutinized Rachel like she was a blot on the carpet.
“Sophia, I’m surprised you’re still here,” Dr. Edmunds said to the widow.
“I wished to see your aging Irish spinster, James. Who actually looks to be a young woman. A very dirty young woman. Are you certain you’ve got the right one?”
Rachel flushed.
Dr. Edmunds cast Rachel a quick glance. She thought she saw an apology in it. “Sophia, this is Miss Dunne. Miss Dunne, this is my sister-in-law, Mrs. Woodbridge.”
Rachel bobbed her head. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Woodbridge.”
“Yes,” replied his sister-in-law, refusing to return the courtesy to a mere employee.
“Molly, show Miss Dunne to her room,” Dr. Edmunds instructed the one Rachel had decided was a maid. “Miss Dunne, I presume you’d like to clean up and have something to eat. Probably rest, also. We’ll meet in the morning to discuss your duties here. Seven o’clock sharp in the library. Molly or Peg can tell you where that is.”
“Yes, Dr. Edmunds,” she said, nodding. Food, rest would be heavenly. Getting away from Mrs. Woodbridge’s disapproving stare would be even better.
Rachel followed the maid up the stairs, carpetbag gripped in her hand. Mrs. Woodbridge watched her depart, her gaze boring a hole in Rachel’s back.
“You’re not going to keep her, are you, James?” Mrs. Woodbridge asked, her voice carrying clearly, making Rachel sound like a stray mongrel Dr. Edmunds had picked up. “Her cousin obviously misled you about her worth. For a reason, I would warrant, that is not to the girl’s credit.”
Rachel couldn’t hear Dr. Edmunds’s response, though Molly’s concurring harrumph was more than sufficiently loud.
Cheeks flaring, Rachel gripped her carpetbag more firmly and climbed behind the maid. It appeared she would find no friends in this household. Well, she would only be there for a month at most, according to Claire’s note. She could make do.
“How long have you been in service to Dr. Edmunds, Molly?” Rachel asked, trying to be friendly.
“Almost three years,” Molly answered brusquely, her voice bouncing off the staircase paneling, snowy white as the flowers of a guelder rose. Her tone was just as frosty.
They reached the third-floor landing with its low ceiling. Molly threw open the nearest door. “Here is your room. Next to Peg and me.”
The maid stepped aside and Rachel entered. The space was tiny, hardly bigger than a privy, and spare of decoration save an old multicolored carpet cut down to fit the space and a creamware ewer and basin on a stand adjacent a chest of drawers. Beneath a dormer window, a narrow bed clung to the faded pink wall. Rachel dropped her carpetbag next to the door. The room was clean and private. She should not expect anything more.
“Dinner is in a half hour,” said Molly. “I guess you’re to eat with us tonight. Don’t know about what’s to happen after. Best not be late. Mrs. Mainprice won’t wait for you.”