Page 52 of Winterset

They all looked at the old woman, who was nodding pleasantly. Encouraged, Anna went on, “We were especially interested in Susan Emmett. She worked there almost fifty years ago.”

The old woman continued to nod, smiling a little. The younger Mrs. Hartwell bent and asked her, “Do you remember Susan Emmett, Mother? At Winterset.”

The old woman made a few more garbled sounds, and her daughter-in-law turned to them apologetically. “I’m sorry. Sometimes she doesn’t make much sense. She said…I think she said something about an animal.”

“The Beast?” Reed asked.

The other woman looked surprised. “Yes, that is what it sounded like. Does it mean something to you?”

“A little.” Again Reed and Anna exchanged a look. It would be almost impossible to get any useful information about the murders from Mrs. Hartwell. “We were hoping she could tell us about Susan’s death.”

“Beast gor ’er,” the old woman managed to get out, the clearest thing she had said yet.

She added something, and her daughter-in-law cast them an embarrassed look. “I think she said that the girl was a silly chit.”

“Could you tell us, Mrs. Hartwell, the names of some of the other servants who worked at Winterset then?”

There was another long struggle to speak from Mrs. Hartwell, translated by her daughter-in-law. “I think she said, Cutting or Cunning.”

“Cunningham,” Anna supplied.

“Oh. Yes, I see. And then she said Arabel or Anabel, but she gave no last name. And then Josie—I’m pretty sure of that one—but I think she was saying that all of them are dead.”

Reed and Anna soon took their leave, thanking the women for their help. He threw her up in the saddle, then mounted his own horse, and they started down the street.

“I’m afraid that didn’t get us much of anywhere,” Reed commented.

Anna cast him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at her and smiled. “No one’s fault, really.” He sighed. “I wish we could get the names of the other servants. In his note, Norton said that only the butler and housekeeper had received stipends. He did not know the names of any of the other servants who had been in your uncle’s employ, and, of course, those may not even have been at Winterset almost thirty years before Lord de Winter left.”

Anna sighed. “No, I would imagine that most of them were too young to have been there that long ago.”

After a moment, Reed said, “There must have been record books.”

Anna glanced at him. “Why, yes, I am sure you’re right. I wonder we didn’t think of it earlier. They would have had household accounts books, and it would have listed the wages they paid the servants.”

“Now, if we just had any idea where those are.”

“Father probably took the most recent ones over to the Manor when he took over my uncle’s business dealings. But I would think he would have left all the old books at Winterset.”

“If the old books were still there, of course,” Reed inserted.

“It is a long time to keep them, I suppose, but our estate manager’s office has books dating back a hundred years or more. Of course, my Holcomb ancestors were a good bit more methodical than my de Winter ones, I’m afraid.”

“The de Winters were erratic?”

“The de Winters were colorful,” Anna said with a grin. “They tended to live their lives on a grander scale. Like old Lord Jasper—the one with the staghounds.”

“Mmm. ‘Colorful’ can be rather trying sometimes. And I can tell you that I speak from experience.”

“I cannot believe that your family is as odd as you say,” Anna told him.

“No? That is because you have never met them.”

“I’ve met Kyria. And Con and Alex. And they were all charming.”

“But just look at their names. Who would name twins Constantine and Alexander?”