duckling, stewed cucumbers in the gravy Peg had prepared, asparagus soup, currant pudding. It was enough food to serve several people, certainly enough to feed Rachel’s family back at home, used to so much less and so much simpler, some fish or stew being their usual fare. Nathaniel would laugh at the cucumbers, limp green discs floating in a sea of caramel-brown. Right before her brother gobbled them down.
Molly balanced the tray and headed for the staircase. “Hey, watch it now, Joe,” she called out as the lad bounded into the kitchen.
“Sorry there, Moll. Miss Dunne, the master’s asked to see ya.”
Peg shot Rachel a quick, knowing look.
After the confusion at the dock and the questions about her age, had Dr. Edmunds already decided to dismiss her? “Where is he?” Rachel asked Joe.
“In the dinin’ room. Where else would ’e be at this hour?”
Rachel followed Joe out of the kitchen. “What sort of mood is Dr. Edmunds in?”
Eyes brown like burnt toast turned to stare at her. “’is typical mood.”
Whatever mood that was, though it didn’t sound promising. Rachel chewed her lip and searched for conversation. “What do you do for the doctor, Joe?”
“I’m the boy.”
“What does ‘the boy’ do?”
Joe looked at her as if she were teasing. A few seconds passed as they ascended the stairs before he appeared to realize her question was genuine. “I do all the stuff the maids don’t like to do, like fill the coal scuttles. Take care o’ the doctor’s ’orse and gig. Sometimes I take ’is physics to ’is patients. Stuff like that.”
“What do you think of your master? Do you like him?”
They turned the corner of the ground-floor landing. “Dr. Edmunds? ’e’s an all right bloke. A bit ’ard sometimes because of losin’ his wife an’ all. That were three years ago, I’ve done been told.”
“But he is a fair man.”
“D’pends on what yer plannin’ on doin’.” Joe eyed her. “Though if yer worried about ’im likin’ you, you should claim you know everythin’ to be known about tendin’patients and whatnot. ’e’d like to hear that, ’e would.”
“I know nothing about tending patients.” Did she shout that?
“Didn’ think ya did. Jus’ sayin’ it might come in ’andy an’ all to pretend you did. Door at the far end,” Joe said when they reached their destination, then scampered off.
Rachel entered the dining room. It shimmered golden in the candlelight. The walls were covered in sumptuous yellow silk, coordinating saffron draperies hung at the windows looking out at the street, and the marble fireplace gleamed creamy white. Crystal pendants suspended from the candelabra refracted rainbow light. A corner cabinet displayed chinaware even more delicately lovely than what she had seen in the kitchen.
Molly was laying out the last of the dishes, and at the head of the polished table sat Dr. Edmunds, alone yet dressed for company in evening kit—indigo coat, gray waistcoat, white neckerchief. The master of an empty dining room.
It was utterly, indescribably sad.
He looked over as Rachel approached the table. His expression was impossible to read.
“There you are, Miss Dunne,” he said, “Molly, there’s no need for you to stay. You may go. I wish a word with Miss Dunne in private.”
Molly hustled out of the dining room, a tiny smile on her lips, and shut the door behind her.
“You wished to see me, Dr. Edmunds?” Rachel asked.
“I do, and you’re welcome to sit, Miss Dunne.” He waited until she pulled out a chair, heavy and beautifully carved. The cushion was thick and extraordinarily comfortable. Or would have been comfortable, if she could relax.
“I trust I did not disturb your dinner,” he said.
“I have already taken my meal in the kitchen.”
“You’re not a servant, Miss Dunne, and don’t need to eat in the kitchen. In future, you can ask to have a tray sent up to your room. Or use the Blue Room on the second floor, if you would like.”
‘In future’ meant she had one. “So you’ve not changed your mind about keeping me on here after the mishap at the dock, the misunderstanding about my age?”
His eyes searched her face. “You assured me there was no intentional deception. That is still the case, correct?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then the fault must be mine. Your cousin told me you were highly experienced, and I must have equated that with age.”
“I apologize again,” she said, relief rushing her words, “for that and for causing you to come down to the docks to search for me. I do not mean to be difficult.”