“Go on, Sally Ann. Tell Mr. Hammonds what you told us.”
“It is all right,” Mr. Hammonds said gently. “Come, let’s sit down here where you may speak in confidence.”
“Well, sir,” Sally stammered. “When I found out that I was in a family way, that Warner held me so’s his ma, Mrs. Whitehurst could beat me. He said they’d have the baby out of me, one way or another. An’ he gave me this nasty smellin’ bottle o’ stuff an’ told me I should drink it. But Miss Singer came down with the Duchess’s laundry an’ the cook called me, so I got away. Then when I walked down by the lake to try to think, there was somethin’ that growled and barked at me, just like it was at my heels. It sounded like growling, and it was just awful. Ever’ time I tried to turn off the path, it got louder an’ seemed closer. That’s why I ran into the Lolly Mire, cause there wasn’t any place else to go. But I made a misstep on the bog path, and in I went.”
“I remember you told us that when Mr. McAhmladhson and I pulled you out,” the Duke remarked.
“I shoulda tolt you then,” Sally Ann sniffled, beginning to cry. “If I’d a told, you wouldn’t a got hurt. I’m sorry, Your Grace!”
“I think,” Celeste said, “that it is time for a certain laundress’s reign of terror to come to an end. Sally Ann, was Mrs. Possinger involved in all this?”
“Oh, no, Miss. Mrs. Whitehurst and Him always waited until Mrs. Possinger went home for the night. But Mrs. Whitehurst didn’t have no home. She slept in the back of the laundry.”
“Mr. Hammonds,” Sister Agatha said with deceptive gentleness. “Would you be so good as to help Father Jacob watch over the Duke? I believe that we ladies need to go have a talk with the laundress. Are you coming with us, Miss Singer?”
Reluctantly, Celeste slid her hand out of the Duke’s. “I am,” she said, and accompanied the Sister out the door. “Will we be able to do this? Mrs. Whitehurst is very strong.”
“Not to worry, Miss,” Sister Agatha said. “Not all Sisters lead a life of contemplation. I’m not only the Gentle Sisters apothecary, I am also the brewer, the gardener, and I do the repairs around the Abbey. Father Jacob is a fine fellow, but he doesn’t understand hinges or stonework.”
“And if you will recall, I am superior to Mrs. Whitehurst,” Miss Sedgewick said. “If she does not respect that, consider that I have been dealing with maids and footmen for nearly thirty years.”
When the three of them burst into the laundry room, they found Mrs. Possinger bound up in a sheet and Mrs. Whitehurst stuffing lace into a valise. “Are you leaving without a reference, Mrs. Whitehurst?” Miss Sedgewick asked gently. “Of course, after rinsing the Duke’s sheets in arsenic and then sprinkling them with wolf’s bane, it would be rather difficult to get a reference, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t need no reference from a back-country housekeeper like you,” Mrs. Whitehurst spat. “If you must know, my son came into some property today, and I’m going to go live with him.”
“Would that be the fugitive that Mr. McOwen is tracking with Gertrude and Fionn even as we speak?”
“Him? That poor stick. Mark my words, Miss Singer, don’t ever take a Duke as a lover. He’ll just leave you with a bastard to raise on your own. Or, if you are lucky, he’ll sent the brat away somewhere to apprentice and give you a hot, sweaty job.”
“The late Duke was accounted as something of a womanizer,” Miss Sedgewick temporized, “But I can promise you that he respected the word ‘no’ and took being turned down in good part. I know this, because I did turn him down and I retained my place all the same. You could have had a job here without warming anyone’s bed.”
“Oh, that’s fine for you. You were never warm-blooded enough to attract any man. But I’m not going with that poor stick of a son. I’m going with the other one – the one who is a leader of men. He’ll take care of his puir auld mither.”
“Thanks, Ma. That’s a nice way to talk about the son who got you a good job doing ladies dainties instead of heavy sheets.”
Roderick Warner appeared in the doorway of the laundry, holding a cocked pistol in each hand. “I’m here for you, Ma, if you’ll condescend to travel with such a poor stick as myself. Brother is waiting for us, all we have to do is get out of here and go. Just walk over here and stand by me, so I can dispose of these ladies. After today, you’ll never have to curtsy to any such as them again.”
Mrs. Whitehurst started to edge past the three women, but as she passed Sister Agatha, the Sister booted the laundress in her ample behind, knocking her into Warner. Warner’s pistols discharged into the floor above. That almost seemed to be a signal for Benny and Brodie who rounded the corner, little paws scrabbling on the stone floor of the laundry. They went for the valet’s heels. They were followed by Gertrude and Fionn who quickly had Warner down and pinned.
Mrs. Whitehurst, in a move surprisingly nimble for so large a woman, jumped over Benny and Brodie and her son’s thrashing legs, only to be subjected to a roundhouse left kick to the back of her head from Sister Agatha’s heavy work boot. The terriers were dodged out from under her as she fell across Warner.
“Neatly done, Sister,” said Inspector Ravensgard. “I am sorry he frightened all of you. He got away from us up in the wood, and we were delayed by having to tend to the Duchess. Although, rightly speaking she is not a duchess at all. She is Mrs. Warner.”
“She is who?!” Celeste stared at the inspector. “How can that be possible. She and the Duke of Gwyndonmere were wed ten years ago.”
“Well, they exchanged vows ten years ago, but two months before that, Margery sneaked out of her father’s house and married this bounder. That marriage was performed by an Anglican priest, so it is all legal, right and tight. So that made the marriage to Duke a prime bit of fraud. Easy to perpetuate since the late Duke of Mabway had a bee in his bonnet about uniting the two Duchies. Convenient for both the late Dukes since Mabway had no heir, and Gwyndonmere had a son ripe for marriage. The boy had no objection apparently, but the girl had objections a-plenty, to which her father was not listening.
“How do you know all this?” Miss Sedgewick asked.
“Well, it all came about in bits and pieces. But let me get irons on this lad here before we settle in to tell the tale of Roddy the Rude, also known as Roderick Warner. He was a circus performer for a while, and figures ventriloquism and amazing escapes in his bag of tricks.”
David Hammonds came down the steps from the kitchen, taking them two at a time. “Inspector! I was coming to tell you . . .Oh, you got him.”
“Well, I have him. But I’ll not count on keeping him until we can get him well and truly shackled.”
“Tom Cory could do that at the stable forge. Won’t take much to adapt some harness pieces, I shouldn’t think.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hammonds the Younger. Miss Singer, will you please tell His Grace that I will be back as soon as I can to give him a full accounting. Just as soon as I get this fellow in leg irons and tucked safely into the town jail.”
