I was about to relent and tell Celia that Jacob was in the drawing room with us when Lucy entered carrying the tea tray as if it were made of gold and precious jewels. Her slow, careful shuffle didn't stop the cups from clinking against each other. Her tongue darted out as she eyed her destination-the central table in front of the sofa-and lodged in the corner of her mouth like a bookmark. When she finally set the tray down I let out a long breath and heard Celia do the same.
"Could you pour, please," Celia asked.
I wanted to throttle her. The poor girl was nervous enough and now she had to manage the pouring. Despite her shaking hands, Lucy poured the tea and spilled only a little onto the saucers. I reached for my own cup, as did Celia, and thanked her.
Lucy beamed at us both and blushed as bright as a radish. "I was better at it in school. I'm a bit nervous, see, being my first day and all." She turned to go but I called her back. She stopped and bit her lower lip, the smile and blushes gone. "Yes, miss? Something wrong, miss?" Her hands twisted together in front of her and I was reminded of Maree Finch. Thankfully Lucy wasn't holding a knife.
"No, no, the tea is fine. I just wanted to ask you something. I met a girl from the North London School for Domestic Service today," I said, trying to sound like this wasn't important and we were having a casual conversation. I didn't want to unsettle her any more than she already was.
Lucy blinked. "Oh? Who?"
"Maree Finch. She's recently gone into service for the
Culverts."
"I remember Maree."
"What was she like?"
She shrugged. "I didn't know her too well. She was nice, I s'pose. Quiet. Don't really remember much more than that. We weren't good friends or nothing."
"She has an older brother, doesn't she?"
She nodded then frowned. "What's his name? Lord, I can't remember. Thomas, Timmy...something like that. He was at the school too for a bit, but got sent away. No good for service, Mrs. White said. A troublemaker. I saw him at school once, after he wasn't s'posed to be there no more."
"Oh? What was he doing?"
"Came to see Maree."
"Ask her if Maree was a thief too," Jacob said.
"Maree's a good girl though, isn't she." I worded it like a statement rather than a question. I didn't want to give Lucy the idea that we were fishing for information. I wanted her to open up to us on her own.