Secrets of Sloane House by Gray Shelley

Author:Gray, Shelley [Gray, Shelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: dpgroup.org, Fluffer Nutter
ISBN: 9780310338536
Amazon: B00GRYXP5A
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2014-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

She was late.

After running past a sneering Jerome and a disapproving Mr. Hodgeson, Rosalind darted to her room and hastily put on a freshly starched apron. Seconds after that she winced at her reflection in the mirror, then bit her lip as she took down her hair and hastily pinned it up again. She’d just pinned her cap on her head when Mrs. Abrams walked to the doorway.

“Ah, Rosalind. There you are.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

Mrs. Abrams scanned Rosalind’s form, taking in everything in one fell swoop, from her precariously pinned cap to her apron to her black boots, which were sorely in need of a shine. Her gaze softened before turning resolute.

“Mrs. Sloane would like to have a word with you. Come with me, please.”

The request almost took Rosalind’s breath away. Not trusting her voice, Rosalind silently followed the housekeeper through the maze of servants’ rooms, through the thoroughly scrubbed dining area, along the narrow, windy hallway that led to the wine cellar, the silver room, and the laundry. A few servants paused as they passed. Some looked away; others stared at her with expressions of disbelief and disappointment.

Rosalind’s stomach knotted as she prepared herself for the worst. Obviously, she was about to be let go. She only hoped and prayed that she would get a day to make other plans before she had to leave the estate.

As they walked up the steep flight of stairs to Mrs. Sloane’s private study, Rosalind figured she had nothing to lose by asking Mrs. Abrams for information.

“Do you know what this is about, Mrs. Abrams?”

“I do.”

Her voice was clipped, and those two words were filled with enough censure that Rosalind knew it would be pointless to ask another question. Obviously, she was not going to get any immediate answers.

When they entered the study, Rosalind saw that Mrs. Sloane sat at her desk, carefully penning letters. Mrs. Abrams practically stood at attention, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Yes, Abrams?” the lady finally murmured.

“I have brought Rosalind, as you requested. Is now still a good time for you to speak to her?”

At last Mrs. Sloane turned, her gray silk gown rustling with the motion. She studied both Rosalind and Mrs. Abrams, then nodded. “I suppose this is as good a time as it will ever be.” As she crossed the room, she gestured toward a pair of upholstered chairs. “Please sit down.”

Rosalind followed Mrs. Abrams’ lead and took a chair, perching on the edge of the floral fabric.

Mrs. Sloane sat down as well, neatly arranging her skirts. After a lengthy pause, she looked at Rosalind with a vague expression of distaste. “I’m afraid there is no easy way to do this. It has come to my attention that you are suspected of stealing from my home.”

It was all Rosalind could do to keep from gaping. “Beg pardon?”

“It would be best if you went ahead and told us the whole story instead of denying it,” Mrs. Abrams said. “Lying will only make your situation worse.”

“Ma’am,” she sputtered. “I mean, Mrs.

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