A Gilded Grave

by Shelley Freydont

  The coach drew up at the door of Randolph House; Elspeth climbed down, then waited for Deanna.

  “We’ll just be a minute.”

  The coachman touched his hat brim. “Yes, miss.”

  They went up the front stairs and rang the bell.

  The butler answered. “Miss Deanna,” he said, opening the door for her to come in.

  “I just need to pick up a few things I forgot, Dickerson. We won’t be but a moment.”

  “Very good, miss.”

  Deanna and Elspeth went upstairs. While Elspeth packed up a beach dress for the trip to Bailey’s, Deanna emptied a lacquer box Bob had once given her for her pin money. It only took a second to pour the few coins and bills into her reticule, and she spent the rest of the time waiting for Elspeth, looking out the window, and thinking.

  There must be someone who knew more about Daisy’s movements the night of the ball. The house had been crammed full of people, not only guests but servants and visiting maids and valets.

  She just had to figure out a way to get them to talk.

  Dickerson stopped them as they were leaving. “Miss Deanna, a telegram came for your father yesterday evening after he’d left for Manhattan. Shall I keep it until his return?”

  Deanna looked at the yellow rectangle of paper. “I’ll take it, Dickerson. Mr. Woodruff will know what’s best to do.”

  Deanna and Elspeth returned to Seacrest. Elspeth immediately took her things upstiars; Deanna stayed behind and had just emptied most of her purse into the coachman’s palm to pay for his silence when Cassie opened the front door.

  “Where have you been? You missed lunch and Mama was beginning to worry.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll go apologize to your mama.”

  “Fine, but later. The carriage is already here. We’re going to take the air, and today you’re coming with us.”

  “I’m not dressed.”

  “You look fine. Neville, please tell mama that Miss Deanna has returned and we’re all going out.” Cassie took her arm and propelled her across the drive to where Lady Madeline sat in the open carriage looking a little like Cinderella in a white-and-peach voile frock.

  Deanna felt dusty and rumpled in comparison, and she was sure her hem was loaded with dirt and machine oil. She patted at her hair and climbed into the carriage.

  For the next hour they drove up and down Bellevue Avenue nodding and smiling at all the other coaches whose passengers were also enjoying their afternoon promenade and gossiping about the passengers.

  “Was Elspeth able to see her brother today?” Cassie asked. “Elspeth is Deanna’s lady’s maid,” she explained to Maddie. “Her family has worked for the Randolphs forever and she has, too. So we’re all kind of like friends.” Cassie puckered her lips. “I know you’re supposed to keep your distance from servants, but I don’t see why, do you?”

  Deanna didn’t think so, either, but it was too seditious an idea to agree with out loud.

  “But if you don’t,” Maddie said, with an air of worldliness, “they get confused about their status and their duties. It’s best to be the master and let them be the servants.”

  “I suppose.” Cassie’s attention flicked to a passing carriage. The three of them automatically nodded as the liveried carriage rolled by in the opposite direction. “There’s Mrs. Goelet.”

  Deanna smiled.

  “What’s so funny?” Cassie asked.

  “Just that one of the stories I read is about a lady detective whose last name is also Goelet. But she’s nothing like the one who just passed by.”

  “Oh, one of your dime novels,” Cassie said. “Our Goelets own Ochre Court. He’s loaded, and she’s one of the marrying Wilsons.”

  “The marrying Wilsons? Who are they?” Maddie asked.

  “Three sisters whose mama was ‘dead on the money,’ as my papa said. Made fabulous matches for all her daughters, each husband richer than the one before.”

  “You certainly have colorful neighbors,” Maddie said. “And they’re all millionaires?”

  “Multimillionaires.”

  “How about you, Deanna? Is your papa a millionaire?”

  “I suppose so. I’m sure the business is worth several million.”

  “The R and W that David is in partnership with?”

  Deanna nodded. She didn’t know much about the business. Papa had taught Bob the fundamentals before he died, but Papa hadn’t passed any knowledge to his daughters. Which was usually the case with fathers, Deanna thought.

  She became restless about halfway down the avenue. She tried pretending she was Adelaide, who could sit perfectly still even though she didn’t enjoy even the slowest carriage ride, since her head would begin pounding before they had gone half a mile. Perhaps that’s why she was always so still, because moving hurt her head. Deanna felt a pang of conscience. She’d always made fun of Adelaide, but maybe her sister had adopted that air of languor as a way to stave off illness. Deanna suddenly felt ashamed and vowed never to make fun of Adelaide again.

  “You’re awfully quiet today, Dee. You’re not homesick?” Cassie said.

  “Heavens no. I was just thinking.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes. “Dee’s always thinking. I never knew anybody to think so much.”

  Maddie laughed. “Don’t you think women should think, Cassie?”

  “Oh, I suppose so. When there’s nothing else to do. Though, gee, there’s always something to do. I hope tea’s ready; I’m starving.”

  And Deanna just hoped the ride would soon be over. But as luck would have it, they were stuck driving behind Mrs. Leggit, who stopped often to converse with the passengers of other carriages.

  “I need my tea,” Cassie complained when they finally stopped at Seacrest. “I hope no one has come to visit. I’m too hungry to change.”

  Fortunately, Mrs. Woodruff was alone, and she bustled them all into the lady’s parlor, where a tea tray had been laid with a variety of delicacies.

  “How is Mr. Woodruff feeling today?” Deanna asked Mrs. Woodruff as her hostess handed her a cup of tea.

  “Oh, much better. He and Charles and Lord David said that they were going down to Joseph Ballard’s to see his inventions.”

  Deanna nearly bobbled her teacup. She thought they had decided on the polo match. Thank goodness she and Elspeth hadn’t run into the men at the warehouse. How could she ever have explained what she was doing there?

  “But they went to see the match instead. I thought they might be back for tea, but you know how men get over sports.”

  Deanna relaxed a bit, but she’d have to be more careful in the future. The future? What was she thinking? She couldn’t keep traipsing about like a . . . free person.

  It had been exhilarating to be out on her own, to simply decide to drive down to the Fifth Ward and then do it without asking anyone’s permission, knowing that she would never have been allowed to go if her mama or even her papa were here. And what Mrs. Woodruff didn’t know . . .

  She knew it wouldn’t last, but until her mother’s return, Deanna planned to take advantage of her absence.

  After tea, the ladies went to their rooms to rest before dinner. Deanna was curled up in the bay window, reading the further adventures of Kate Goelet when she heard Elspeth go into the dressing room. A minute later she came to the door of the bedroom and cleared her throat.

  “Can you come here for a minute, miss?”

  Deanna frowned, but she closed her book and went to see what Elspeth wanted.

  As soon as she stepped into the small square room, she understood why Elspeth had called her. A young maid with red hair and freckles so thick across her nose that each one ran into another, stood timidly by the door.

  “This is Claire. Tell Miss Deanna what you told me.”

  The girl ducked her head and kneaded her apron.
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  “Go on,” Elspeth prodded. “You won’t get in trouble, I promise.”

  Claire flicked an anxious look at Deanna, then lowered her eyes.

  Elspeth gave her a little nudge.

  “When Daisy came back . . .”

  Deanna leaned forward to hear her better.

  “The other night—the night she died? She come to me and asked me to write something for her. She just come over from Ireland and can’t read or write much. I can. I was born here and I study in my spare time. I was helping her.”

  Deanna couldn’t imagine that she had very much spare time.

  Claire seemed to have stalled.

  “And did you write something for her?” Deanna coaxed as gently as her excitement would allow.

  Claire straightened her apron, shook her head. “We didn’t have paper. Then that awful valet to Lord David appeared in the doorway, just like the devil himself, and Daisy ran off. I thought she was getting paper, but she never came back.” Claire gulped. “I didn’t ever see her again.”

  “Did she say what she wanted you to write for her?”

  “No, miss. Can I go now?”

  “In a minute, if you please.” Deanna cast a quick apologetic look at Elspeth. “Did Daisy ever talk about Orrin?”

  Claire nodded. “They were going to be married. She wanted to get out of service, try to get a place at a milliner’s in town. Now she—she won’t never make any hats.” Claire broke down into silent sobs just as a faint knock sounded at the door.

  Deanna put her finger to her lips and hurried back into the bedroom, closing the dressing room door behind her. “Enter.”

  The door opened and Cassie came in. “You haven’t even changed yet. What have you been doing all this time?”

  Deanna sighed. “I don’t know. Thinking, I guess.”

  “I hope what you mean is daydreaming about Lord David. Maddie says he thinks you’re charming.”

  “I think he’s lovely, too.”

  “Too bad they’re not going to be here for dinner tonight. They’ve been invited to the Stanhopes,” Cassie said in exasperated tones. “But Mama is having a few people over for drinks before they go, so wear something ravishing.”

  “The Stanhopes? With your mother and father?”

  “Heavens, no. Mama and Mrs. Stanhope don’t get along.”

  Another knock.

  “That must be Maddie. I told her to meet us here, since you’re always running behind time.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, what are you wearing tonight?” Cassie asked as she went to open the door.

  Maddie came in wearing the most wonderful gown Deanna thought she’d ever seen. It had to be from Paris: gold peau de soie with diagonal brocade stripes and an overblouse of darker spangled chiffon. The pattern was repeated on the puffed sleeves that floated about Madeline’s head like clouds of spun sugar.

  It made Cassie’s ruching and ruffles appear young and frivolous, though Deanna supposed they suited her.

  “Oh, you’re not ready yet,” Maddie said.

  “No. I—my maid—”

  “I just saw her hurrying down the hallway with another maid,” Madeline said. “I hope she’s not up to things she shouldn’t be. Surely, we’ve had enough of that kind of thing.”

  Deanna’s mind went blank. Elspeth must have spirited Claire away as soon as Cassie came in. Neither of them had expected Maddie to follow. “I’m sure she isn’t. She was probably on her way down to get my dress. I”—Deanna searched desperately for a believable lie—“spilled some cologne on it. It’s probably ruined, but Mrs. Oates—”

  “The housekeeper,” Cassie interjected for Maddie’s benefit.

  “—said she thought she had a remedy that might work. Elspeth is probably getting it now.” Fingers crossed that no one mentioned the nonexistent spill to Mrs. Oates.

  Deanna heard Elspeth return to the dressing room and willed her to stay there. Elspeth stepped into the room.

  “Ah,” Deanna said. “Was Mrs. Oates able to get the stain out of my frock, Elspeth?” She sent Elspeth mind bending thoughts.

  Elspeth didn’t say anything for the longest moment, and Deanna’s heart threated to thump out of her chest.

  “Not yet, miss,” Elspeth said, eyeing Madeline’s toilette. “I think the rose tulle for this evening instead?”

  Deanna had to concentrate not to slump in relief. “Very well,” she said with an air of languor she didn’t feel.

  Madeline pulled Cassie up from the chair. “I think we should go and let Deanna dress in peace.”

  “Oh, all right. But hurry, Dee.” Cassie stopped at the mirror to adjust her waist and pull her neckline down, then shimmied her shoulders and flounced out of the room. Maddie looked at the ceiling and, laughing, followed after her.

  “Someone oughta take that girl in hand,” Elspeth said. “Now, sit and let me dress your hair.”

  Deanna sat and Elspeth began pulling pins from her hair. “Why did you lie to Cassie about why Claire was here?”

  “Well,” Deanna said, “firstly, I didn’t want to get Claire in trouble, and secondly—”

  Elspeth tugged a knot out of Deanna’s hair. Deanna grabbed her wrist and pulled her down so she could whisper in her ear. “I think we should take Joe’s warning seriously and not tell anyone about anything we find out. Not Cassie, not anyone.”

  “Because we might get into trouble?” Elspeth asked, her eyes wide.

  Deanna nodded. “Or worse.”

  Elspeth sat down hard on the bench beside Deanna. “You think the murderer is someone we know?”

  Deanna raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you?”

  Dinner was a bit melancholy without the Manchesters, though Mr. Woodruff seemed to have rallied. Tonight there was more color in his cheeks and a twinkle to his eyes, and he seemed to be glad to be home with the family. He ate sparingly but teased the girls about their conquests at the ball. Asked Charles about his revised plans for taking Lord David down to visit Joe’s machine shop the next day. Told Dee to send his best wishes for Adelaide’s speedy recovery.

  Charles, on the other hand, seemed subdued, preoccupied. And Deanna wondered if he was missing Adelaide—or the presence of Madeline Manchester. This did not bode well for Adelaide’s future, and her mother would have a fit if a second fiancé cried off.

  But Deanna didn’t see that there was much she could do about that. It would be up to Adelaide on her return. Which she selfishly hoped wouldn’t be too soon.

  Deanna was enjoying her new-found freedom, such as it was. She was beginning to get an inkling of what life would be like without a mother’s constant supervision, though she supposed that when she left home, someone else—her husband or society in general—would take her mama’s place. Still, she’d decided that she would never go back to being stifled and perfectly behaved. Though, at the moment, she didn’t see how that could be achieved.

  Exhaustion hit Deanna halfway through the first course, and she had to smother several yawns. Going to the Fifth Ward had been an adventure but it had taken its toll. And the conversation with Claire, and almost getting caught by Cassie and Madeline, had pushed her just over the brink. She was glad the Manchesters had gone out without the others.

  Tonight she would soak in a hot bath, then read about someone else’s adventures from the comfort of her own bed.

  But it wasn’t to be. As the ladies got up to leave, Mr. Woodruff announced that he would go out to the Reading Room.

  “But, my dear, do you think you should go out? You’re just rallying from the trip.”

  “Oh, don’t fuss, Nell. I’ll be fine.”

  Mrs. Woodruff looked as if she’d like to say more, but she didn’t.

  “Before you go, father,” Charles said, “might I have a word? In the library?”

  “Sure, my boy,
but is it something that can wait? It’s getting late.”

  “It will only take a minute. And I’d like to take care of it tonight.”

  Mr. Woodruff frowned. He had suddenly become . . . agitated, Deanna thought. As if he were in a hurry to leave the house. “Very well. Ladies, I’ll say good night.”

  Deanna was thinking fast. Could Charles be about to tell his father that he wanted to break off his engagement with Adelaide? It did seem to Deanna that he had been wrestling with his thoughts all evening, and perhaps he had now come to a decision.

  Mrs. Woodruff tried once more to convince her husband not to go out. Deanna took the opportunity to whisper to Cassie, “Excuse me,” and quickly went down the hall.

  There was a powder room nearby, and she hoped that Cassie assumed that was where she was going. Instead she turned into the servants’ hall and slipped through the small servants’ door at the back of the library.

  If Charles was consulting his father about crying off, Deanna wanted to know about it now. She’d figure out what to do about the information—if there was anything she could do—later.

  The library was decorated in dark wood and heavy furniture. Books lined one wall and a spiral staircase led to another level of books.

  One lone reading lamp illuminated the darkness. Just enough light for Deanna to make her way across the room without bumping into the two large club chairs and several reading tables and globe that stood between them.

  She hurried across the lush Oriental carpet without making a sound, grabbed her skirts, and hurried up the stairs. She’d just reached the top when she heard the door from the hall open. She ducked into a reading alcove, a cozy niche with a window that looked onto the lawn and a cushioned seat just big enough for two young girls. Deanna and Cassie had found a picture book of Greek art there one summer and spent many wide-eyed hours giggling over the naked statues.

  The downstairs lights came on, and Deanna blinked out of her dark corner. She could see the tops of the two men’s heads below her, Mr. Woodruff’s hair going bald in a circle at the crown of his head, but Charles’s was still full and wavy.