"I suppose Mr. Carson spoke with you all downstairs last night?" Cora asked as Baxter began to work on her hair in the morning. She had understood the rationale behind informing the servants, but she was not sure if she was relieved to know that it was no longer hidden or humiliated that even the housemaids knew what Bricker had done to her. She thought she was mostly the latter.
"Yes, my lady," Baxter said. "The others were all quite horrified, and Mrs. Bates wept for you."
"Anna's been in this household since she was a girl," Cora said softly. "She's always been very tender-hearted."
At least she would not have to witness the servants' reactions, she thought—they were all far too well-trained for that. Robert had told the family over breakfast yesterday morning, and it had made for an awkward luncheon as the girls and Tom had avoided her eyes, looks of sadness and sympathy in their own. Yet there was something comforting in her family's sorrow.
Robert had had unavoidable business on the estate in the afternoon, and her second of panic at his departure from the house had been immediately relieved when Tom had given her a soft smile and said, lightly but meaningfully, "I expect I'll be here all afternoon." She had stuck to him throughout Robert's absence, and when she had thanked him, noting how instinctive his consideration seemed, he had pressed her hand with a gentle, "You forget that my background is rougher than yours. You are not the first woman I have seen in such circumstances."
Her daughters and Rose had seemed far more at a loss, and Cora did not begrudge them that. In fact, gazing at them reminded her that she was at least thankful that if one of the family must suffer this, that it was her and not one of her precious children.
Mary had appeared unannounced in her bedroom last night, arriving before Robert with a distraught expression. "Mama," she had said and then paused, studying Cora. "You know we all love you a great deal, don't you? I know you think the English odd in our feelings, but you do know we love you? Because we do, very much."
Mary had embraced her then, suddenly and warmly, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and this unusual display from the most proper of her daughters was somehow more comforting than anything.
"Baxter," Cora said, pulling herself back to the present, "the police will be back today, and I know they'll want to speak with you." She herself had seen them yesterday morning, Robert seated next to her. He had kept a strong, protective hand on her knee, a dark glare for the officer at any question that implied she had had any interest of her own in Mr. Bricker.
"Yes, my lady," Baxter said, pinning part of her hair.
"Will that be all right?" She could read a hesitancy in her maid.
"Of course, my lady. Anything you need me to do."
"Thank you, Baxter. And not just for that." She did not think she would have survived without her maid's quiet understanding and gentle comfort. "You've been very good to me, and I know this has been difficult for you as well. I truly am grateful."
Baxter shook her head. "You haven't got to thank me, my lady." She seemed almost embarrassed.
There was a moment's silence, and Cora determined that she would ask the question that had been playing in her mind all week. "Baxter…I'm sure the police may discuss this with you, but I wanted to know…and I wanted to hear it from you…" She knew it would be evidence of her own stupidity, and she did not want the information to come to her from a third party.
"Yes, my lady?"
"That night…you mentioned Mr. Bricker, before I'd said a word about him. How…how did you know? What was it that I was foolish enough to miss?"
"You weren't foolish, my lady," Baxter said, after a long pause. "It wasn't something anyone else could have seen."
"You mean…you recognized it because you'd been attacked yourself? Can you…can you always see when a man is capable of this? Because I don't know that I can see it, even now."
"It's not quite that, my lady."
She waited for Baxter to elaborate, but the maid did not continue. "What was it, then?" Cora finally asked.
Baxter's hand trembled slightly in the mirror before she quickly grasped it in the other, steadying herself. "No, my lady. It's that…it's…you see, Mr. Bricker's family…" Baxter bit her lip, her breathing shaky. "Oh, forgive me, my lady…but it was…it was Mr. Bricker who…who…"
Cora felt as though her chair had been pulled out from under her at her sudden realization, and she gripped the edge of her dressing table for support. "Oh, good God," she murmured, turning to face her maid. "Dear God, Baxter."