Free The Scent of Murder by Felicity Young

miss.’
    ‘Come on, let me have a look. I won’t hurt you,’ Dody said, reaching behind the girl’s head to undo the scarf’s knot. She could barely suppress a gasp when she saw that the scullery maid’s head had been shaved in a fashion brutal enough to leave her scalp a criss-cross of small cuts.
    ‘Who did this to you, child?’ Dody asked, aghast.
    Annie answered for Edith. ‘Mrs Hutton, of course. Said she had no time for no paraffinalia — and Edith had such beautiful hair, didn’t you, love?’
    ‘Annie,’ Dody said, ‘be so kind as to fetch my medical bag. I’d like to put some disinfectant on those cuts. Edith and I will meet you inside by the kitchen fire.’
    Annie nodded and returned to the house.
    ‘Oh, no, miss, it’s quite all right,’ Edith protested. ‘Cook’ll have me ’ide if I don’t get these birds done.’
    Dody picked up one of the girl’s icy hands, noting the pattern of painful chilblains along the sides of her fingers. ‘You’ll work more efficiently in the warmth. Let me help you to get these feathers tidied up and then we’ll move you into the kitchen.’
    They had only filled half the sack when, with a great crash, the yard door burst open and in bounded Mr Cole. Edith let loose some piercing shrieks, rushed behind Dody and clutched at her, cowering and sobbing.
    The dog had been swimming. Dody could see what was coming next, but the girl’s clinginess prevented Dody from taking cover. The tail started, then the hips, and then the dog’s whole body twisted and shook into a spiral of spray, drenching Dody with filthy water. When the dog had finished, she managed to turn and take hold of Edith by the shoulders, the girl digging her fingers into Dody’s forearm.
    ‘It’s all right, it’s all right. It’s only Mr Cole. He won’t hurt you.’
    The girl took no comfort in the words and continued to shriek. Oblivious of the fuss he was causing, Mr Cole ambled towards the scullery door, a feather stuck to his nose, and scratched at it with his paw.
    ‘For goodness’ sake, what’s that racket about?’ Mrs Hutton opened the door, an enamel plate of scraps in her hand. She saw Dody. ‘I’m sorry, Doctor McCleland, I did not realise you were out here too. Edith, you’ll be letting go of the lady immediately, if you know what’s good for you.’ She put the plate down and Mr Cole wolfed his meal in a matter of seconds. ‘You’ve got to get used to dogs if you want a permanent position in this house, my girl,’ she added.
    Edith let go of Dody and bowed her bald head, tears continuing to stream down her face. ‘Ever so sorry, Miss McCleland, Mrs ’Utton.’
    Dody put her arm around the shaking girl, and felt the bones of her shoulders through her coarse cotton dress. Mrs Hutton looked down her long aquiline nose at both of them. If Dody had not been present, the wretched girl would probably have been in for a thrashing. Dody felt the colour flood her cheeks as her anger rose. No one should have that much power over another.
    ‘Whose idea was it to send the girl out to the yard when it was the dog’s feeding time?’ she asked.
    ‘Birds are plucked in the yard at Cook’s convenience,’ Mrs Hutton said. ‘This is too large a household to account for the foibles of one simple girl, Doctor. Off you go, Edith; finish the birds in the kitchen. You may leave early today provided your work is done. I’ll have Philips bring the cart around to take you back to the workhouse. Hurry up.’ Her tone softened slightly. ‘Don’t you worry about the dog, he’ll stay inside with Sir Desmond now.’
    Edith curtsied, picked up the feather sack and birds, and scuttled into the kitchen.
    ‘The dog stays in the house in the evenings?’ Dody queried.
    ‘He does. The master doesn’t like Mr Cole roaming the grounds after dark.’
    ‘But I saw him out last night.’
    ‘The dog’s day-to-day care is my responsibility. I always know his whereabouts. Until he joined Sir