A Gilded Grave

by Shelley Freydont

  “No! Go back. Don’t look.” He stretched his arms out to stop them just as the moon slipped out of the dark clouds. It illuminated Vlady’s pale, horror-stricken face. And revealed what he was trying to conceal from them.

  Deanna froze. Beside her, Cassie let out a feeble cry.

  A young girl, dressed in a maid’s uniform, lay crumpled on the rocks, arms flung to the side, skirts twisted around her ankles, revealing only two small feet, clad in button-up shoes. Her head had fallen back, and a strand of loosened hair fell across her face.

  Deanna leaned over as far as she dared, praying that it wasn’t Elspeth. She could see the pale face in the glow of the moonlight. And she recognized her. “It’s Daisy.”

  “Our Daisy?” Cassie asked, and fainted dead away.

  Chapter

  3

  Deanna made an ineffectual grab for Cassie as she fell. Fortunately, their yells had attracted a crowd, and someone scooped up Cassie and carried her over to one of the marble benches that overlooked the cliff. Herbert’s mother, Mrs. Stanhope, and another lady began chafing Cassie’s hands and running a vial of smelling salts under her nose.

  Seeing that Cassie was well taken care of, Deanna turned back to the gruesome scene below her.

  Lord David stepped beside her. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Daisy. One of the Woodruff maids. I’m afraid she’s fallen, or something.”

  “Something indeed. I hope you know better than to meet a lover on a cliff in the dark of night.”

  Deanna looked at him, confused. What was he suggesting? That Daisy had been out meeting her sweetheart on the night of a huge ball, or that Deanna was in the habit of meeting men alone at night?

  “Maybe it’s not too late. We must try to help her.” She slipped past Lord David, picked up her skirts, and started over the rocks. It was child’s play. She had climbed these rocks for years. Her skirts and delicate slippers made it a bit more precarious than usual and her slippers would most likely be ruined, but that couldn’t be helped.

  “Wait! Where are you going?” Lord David’s voice.

  Deanna hesitated. “Someone has to do something,” she said. “Vlady and the others are just standing there gawking.”

  Lord David pulled her back and kept a firm grasp on her elbow. “Admirable, but I’m afraid no one can help that poor girl now. Look at her neck.”

  Deanna looked. And she saw what she hadn’t seen before. Daisy’s head was turned far too extremely to be normal, rather like a chicken that . . . Deanna brought her hand to her mouth.

  Do not be sick. Do not be sick. Lady detective Kate Goelet wouldn’t be so squeamish. But Kate Goelet wasn’t real. Suddenly, the sea air was no longer refreshing, but clammy and evil. And Deanna would trade any manner of excitement to bring Daisy back from the dead.

  Vlady looked up at them, spread his hands in a helpless gesture. Then he knelt by Daisy’s body. When he stood again, he was holding something that looked like paper. “Found this in her hand,” he called.

  Deanna couldn’t seem to speak the question in her mind.

  Lord David did it for her. “What is it?”

  “An envelope of some sort, too dark down here to tell, really.”

  The group gathered at the edge of the cliff grew to include some of the older male guests. The news must have reached the servants’ hall, because at the edge of the growing crowd, several servants huddled together, risking their positions to see the news for themselves.

  One of those stark staring faces belonged to Deanna’s own maid, Elspeth. She looked from the cliff to Deanna, then with a sob she broke away from the group and rushed to the walk. Deanna barely managed to wrench away from Lord David and stop Elspeth from careering over the edge herself.

  “Is it Daisy, miss? It can’t be Daisy. Oh, please say it isn’t.”

  Deanna put her arm around Elspeth. “I’m afraid so. I’m so sorry.”

  Elspeth began to cry.

  Suddenly Deanna’s father was there by her side.

  “Don’t be angry, Papa.”

  “I’m not. What has happened here?”

  “There was an accident. It’s Daisy. You know Daisy.”

  Her father nodded, looked over the edge of the cliff. “Vlad?”

  Vlady shook his head.

  “Then come away. There’s nothing more you can do down there.” Her father turned from the cliff and pointed to one of the footmen. “You there. Please take Elspeth here to the house and call for our second carriage to take her home.”

  “I should go with her, Papa.”

  “No, my dear. You’ll see her when we return home.”

  Two of the male servants came to take Elspeth back to the house, but she held on, her eyes pleading. There was nothing Deanna could say. Daisy was dead, and there was an end to it.

  The Woodruffs’ butler, Neville, stepped toward her father. “I took the liberty of calling for the police, sir. I didn’t think we should move the girl’s body into the house before they . . . can make arrangements for her to be returned to her family. They should be here shortly.”

  The police.

  Deanna’s father turned to her. “You’d best get back to the ballroom and make yourself presentable before your mother sees you.”

  “But Papa—”

  “Go now, Deanna. There’s nothing you can do.” He looked around the group. “In fact, none of you young ladies should be witnessing this. Go on, now.”

  “Yes, let us go.” Lady Madeline was supporting Cassie, whose cheeks were completely drained of color. “Can you help me with Cassie? I’m afraid it’s been a terrible shock to her.”

  To us all, Deanna thought.

  “No, wait,” whimpered Cassie. “Vlady’s coming back. I want to wait for Vlady.”

  Vlady and Herbert were scrambling back up the rocks, and the crowd began pelting them with questions.

  Vlady came straight over to them, and Cassie threw herself at him. “Now, now. Be a brave girl.” He looked at Cassie with concern, then said to Deanna, “I think we should stay behind in case we’re needed. You ladies can go up to the house. I don’t think the police will want to speak to you.”

  “I should hope not,” Lady Madeline said, taking hold of Cassie. Deanna nodded and took Cassie’s other side. They were halfway up the walk when Deanna realized she hadn’t asked Vlady about the envelope.

  She turned back in time to see several policemen coming around the side of the house. Four of them continued straight to the cliff. One strode toward the butler and her father.

  Deanna recognized Will Hennessey, a sergeant in the Newport police. A local boy, from an old Newport family, who’d been with Bob and Joe at Yale. He had an air of authority with enough polish to work among the inhabitants of Bellevue Avenue.

  Will touched his hat to Deanna’s father, and the two men walked away from the group.

  Deanna strained to hear what was being said, but it was hopeless.

  “Come, let us go,” Madeline said, and Deanna reluctantly returned to the house.

  Getting back inside without causing a stir was impossible. Most of the guests had heard of the discovery and were clustered, talking and speculating, on the terrace or in the French doors.

  Deanna didn’t see her mother among the onlookers, but she had no doubt her mother saw her and that she’d hear about it as soon as they got home. Madeline kept her wits and neatly herded Cassie and Deanna past the waiting crowds, through the nearly empty ballroom, and upstairs to the lady’s withdrawing room to put themselves back together.

  Cassie sank onto one of the wheat-colored satin stools. “Why did she have to fall off the cliff tonight of all nights?”

  “Cassie!” Deanna snapped. “How can you say such a thing? The poor girl’s dead. She was seeing Joe’s apprentice. Imagine how he will feel. And her family.”
>
  “I know. It’s just—” She burst into tears again. It took a few more minutes to calm her down.

  “Oh, dear,” Madeline said. “There’s a man in the picture? That would explain it.”

  “What do you mean?” Deanna asked.

  “Really, Deanna, you can’t be that naïve. Why would a girl throw herself off a cliff?”

  “Throw herself?” Deanna asked. “It was an accident, surely.”

  “Possibly. But consider. A young woman. With a lover? Perhaps she was jilted.”

  Deanna blushed. “She wouldn’t throw herself to her death over a broken engagement.”

  “Perhaps not, unless maybe she was enceinte.”

  “In the family way?” Cassie asked.

  Deanna shook her head. “No. Orrin would never take advantage.”

  “Oh, my dear. Men will always take advantage. And leave us to take care of the situation.”

  “Why wouldn’t she tell Orrin?” Deanna said.

  “Ah,” Madeline said. “Maybe she did.”

  Deanna frowned.

  “Oh, come now, Deanna.”

  “Oh,” Deanna said, making the connection. “You think that Daisy told Orrin and he spurned her, then she jumped off that cliff in despair? I don’t believe it.”

  Madeline smiled sadly. “Jumped of her own accord . . . or worse.”

  Deanna stared at her.

  “What do you mean?” Cassie asked.

  “Perhaps she told this Orrin fellow he’d gotten her in a family way, and he pushed her off the cliff.”

  Cassie and Deanna stared at her.

  “Don’t you believe a man would do that? I assure you, most men would do that and worse if their lover became an inconvenience.”

  Madeline, who until an hour ago had been so cheerful and vivacious, now seemed a little cold, wise and jaded beyond her years.

  Deanna shook her head. “Perhaps people in Barbados are like that, but not here.”

  “Of course they are, you silly girl.”

  Deanna wanted to snap that she wasn’t silly, but maybe she was just a naïve, silly girl. She and Elspeth had read so many stories about betrayal and murder. Tales of scorned lovers; vengeful, spurned suitors; women overpowered by dastardly villains. They’d thought them exciting and fun. But this wasn’t fun. Real life, unlike the stories, didn’t always end with the heroine overcoming adversity.

  “I think,” Deanna said, standing and brushing out her skirts, mainly to recapture some semblance of a rational world, “I’d better go find my mother. She’ll want to go home to see to Elspeth.”

  It was a lie. Deanna was the one who was worried about Elspeth. She didn’t know what her mother would think . . . if she thought anything about it at all.

  “We’ll have to get Maddie a new maid,” Cassie said.

  They all stopped and looked at one another.

  “That was the girl taking care of me?” Madeline asked.

  Cassie bit her lip and nodded.

  “Oh, dear. I didn’t recognize her at that distance.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cassie said. “Let’s find Mama. She’ll know what to do.”

  The three of them went downstairs and found Mrs. Woodruff attempting to pull together the remnants of her gala evening. The orchestra was tuning their instruments. Footmen with trays of champagne began to circulate through the room. But it seemed a hopeless endeavor.

  Cassie ran to her.

  “Oh, my dear, your father and Charles have gone down to the cliff to talk with the police. What a disaster. And it’s not like Daisy has ever given us a moment of trouble. I just don’t know what she could have been thinking.”

  Deanna didn’t either; she just couldn’t believe that Daisy had thrown herself over the cliff in despair, or worse, that Orrin had helped her do it. She excused herself and went to find her mother. She passed knots of guests talking in hushed whispers. No one was dancing, but no one was headed for the door.

  It seemed to Deanna that everyone was taking a prurient interest in the maid’s death. She was, herself. And that made her uneasy. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off that poor girl, her broken body draped over the rocks, her feet in her dark button-up shoes as small as a child’s. The Death of Innocence.

  Adelaide was sitting in an alcove looking sick. Their mother was standing over her, a watchful eye on the other guests as if one of them might suddenly go berserk and kill them all.

  “There you are,” her mother said as soon as Deanna approached them. “Where have you been?”

  “Upstairs, refreshing myself.” Deanna was careful to hide the soiled toes of her shoes beneath her hem.

  “Ah, so you missed the, um, business on the lawn.”

  Deanna said nothing.

  “Good. I’ve told your father we are taking the carriage home. The whole evening has been a strain on Adelaide. I knew how it would be. Stifling rooms . . .”

  Deanna followed her mother’s voice out of the ballroom. They stood in the foyer while their carriage was called for. Deanna listened for the sounds of anything coming from the cliffs—police whistles, voices, anything—but the night was eerily quiet.

  And now that they were leaving, she was anxious to get home to Elspeth. She decided right then and there that she wouldn’t breathe a word of Madeline’s surmises. Surely, she had been wrong. It had to have been a terrible accident.

  As soon as they were home, her mother whisked Adelaide upstairs. Deanna was tempted to wait for her father’s return to hear what the police had done, but first she needed to see Elspeth, who she knew would be waiting for her, ready to do her duty in spite of her grief. Deanna didn’t think that she herself would be so loyal.

  As soon as Deanna opened the door to her room, she heard muffled sobs coming from the dressing room. They cut off abruptly as Deanna entered the room. Elspeth appeared in the doorway, face blotched but composed.

  “Oh, Elspeth, I’m so sorry.” Deanna rushed to the young maid and put her arms around her. One sob escaped Elspeth, followed by a spasm of her shoulders, then she pushed away.

  “Let’s get you out of that dress, miss.” Elspeth began fumbling with the buttons on Deanna’s gloves.

  Deanna stood docilely. She felt selfish and useless making her maid worry about her clothing when Elspeth was grieving for her friend, who would likely have become her sister-in-law.

  But maybe doing the familiar would help her to cope with her feelings. It took a few torturous minutes to divest Deanna of her evening gloves, and by the time Elspeth rolled them down her arms, Deanna was ready to yank them off in frustration and be done.

  But she held still. She often forgot to “keep her distance” with Elspeth; she was “too familiar” with the help, her mother said. But other than Cassie, Elspeth was the closest friend Deanna had. It seemed like most of the girls she knew were more interested in competing than enjoying one another’s company. Deanna knew that was expected of her, too. But she was a miserable failure at it.

  She turned for Elspeth to undo her gown.

  No wonder Joe didn’t want to marry her. No one would. Which was fine by her. She didn’t want to be like her mother, content to visit people whom she didn’t care for just because it was expected. To dine with people because of who they were and not because they were interesting.

  She didn’t want to spend half her life being fitted for dresses that would only be worn once and that cost more than most people made in a year. She didn’t want to change clothes seven or eight times a day. For what? To give Elspeth more work to do? It was stupid.

  Deanna stepped out of the dress and sat down at the dressing table while Elspeth carried it to the dressing room. Her dress had escaped the worst of the walk to the cliff, but when she stretched out her feet to look at her shoes, she felt a flutter of anxiety. They had been very expensive, and after onl
y one wearing, the yellow satin was marked with grass and dew.

  She immediately felt contrite.

  How could she be worried about shoes at a time like this? A young woman was dead. No older than Deanna or Elspeth. Maybe younger. What had she been doing by the cliff? She wouldn’t have been given time off on a night such as this.

  Deanna kicked off her shoes. The stains appeared dark in the gaslight.

  Elspeth returned and knelt down to pick up the shoes.

  “Don’t worry about any of this tonight. Come talk to me.”

  Elspeth looked toward the door to the hallway.

  “We’ll talk while you brush my hair.” They wouldn’t be reading any stories tonight. Especially not the one they had just started this past week, with Kate Goelet being chased by a madman—no, they wouldn’t be reading that one for a long time.

  Deanna turned around to face the filigreed mirror. Elspeth began to pull out the pins that held the pearls in place, then released the elaborate coiffure until Deanna’s hair fell past her shoulders and she slumped with relief.

  She watched in the mirror as Elspeth began to brush her hair in long, slow, regular strokes, concentrating on her work as if she didn’t do this every morning and every night of her life and sometimes during the day, too. Occasionally, Elspeth’s face would crumple, then, with a gasp of breath, the rhythm of the brush began again.

  She always took good care of Deanna, and Deanna took it for granted, she realized.

  “Do you want me to ask Papa if you can go to your parents’ tonight? One of the men can send for a cab to take you.”

  “No, but might I go after the morning work? Just to see how Orrin is doing. Mr. Joseph will have told him.”

  Did Joe even know about Daisy? Deanna hadn’t seen him since before supper. She certainly hadn’t seen him out on the cliff.

  “Oh, miss, why did she go out there?”

  “I don’t know, Elspeth. I would’ve thought she’d be working.”

  “She was. I saw her earlier. She seemed fine. She didn’t say anything about going out.” Elspeth sniffed. “I teased her into taking me up to that window, the round one that overlooks the ballroom. I just wanted to catch a glimpse of you in your beautiful dress.”