A Gilded Grave

by Shelley Freydont

  Deanna knew she had an active imagination. She’d been accused of that often enough by her mother and her governess. But she wasn’t imagining this. Daisy had wanted Claire to write something for her. She’d been frightened away before she could tell Claire what it was. And then—

  “Isn’t that right, Dee?”

  “What? Oh, I’m sure Will Hennessey will find the culprit. We just need to stay calm.”

  She hoped that answered whatever Vlady had asked her, because she’d become totally absorbed in her own musings. She smiled at him and went back to them.

  Daisy had held an envelope with Orrin’s name written on it but with nothing inside. Because she’d been taking it to Claire and had been stopped on her way? Or—

  “Girls, girls, come along. We’re all going home.” Mrs. Woodruff waved to Deanna and Cassie. And Deanna became aware that people were leaving in droves. Didn’t Will want to speak to any of the others? Ask if anyone had seen anything?

  “I can’t believe this is happening again. Mr. Woodruff has gone to summon our carriage. Charles and Lord David and Madeline have already gone in the first carriage. What did we ever do to deserve this?”

  It was a good question, Deanna thought. Now, if they could just figure out the answer before it happened again.

  “I’ll see you out,” Vlady said, and took Mrs. Woodruff’s arm.

  Deanna caught sight of Herbert standing off to the side, looking as far from the gregarious clown as he ever had.

  Deanna was tempted to go over and see if he needed anything, but Vlady hustled them all off the veranda.

  The one person she didn’t see was Cokey, but the next time she did, she would give him a piece of advice not to make a fool of himself, and then she would give him a piece of her mind.

  Vlady saw them into the carriage and shut the door. “I’ll call on you tomorrow, if I may, to see how you’re doing after this terrible tragedy.”

  Cassie reached for his hand as it was resting on the door, but at that moment the carriage pulled away.

  “Well,” Mrs. Woodruff said, pulling off her gloves, “I don’t know what’s happening to this town. Or to my staff. Why would someone pick on my girls?” She stopped, her hands arrested in the process of pulling off her second glove. “Unless they’re not the only ones. Some madman might be killing housemaids all over Newport! No one will be safe.”

  Mr. Woodruff patted her knee. “I’m sure this is just an isolated villainy.”

  “Two, Francis. Two isolated villainies. And I take exception to being singled out. It’s almost as if someone was doing it to spite us.”

  “Nonsense, dear. You’re just upset. And you have every right to be.”

  Deanna was awed by how calm he was. His business was being questioned, members of his staff were being killed, his son was angry at him, and Deanna’s father had argued with him, yet since his return from Barbados, Mr. Woodruff seemed to alternate between lethargy and agitation, joviality and depression. Tonight, he sounded dismissive of the two deaths, and that was very unlike him.

  Something was going on that Deanna didn’t understand. Whether it had anything to do with the murders of the two Woodruff maids was beyond her understanding. A mare’s nest.

  She looked around the carriage. The Woodruffs were the friendliest, most welcoming family she knew. They knew how to have fun, and if the higher social beings didn’t always approve, their money kept them from being ostracized.

  Monday they would go to tea at Gran Gwen’s, and Deanna would tell her about her fears. She was sure that Gran Gwen would know what to do.

  When they arrived back at Seacrest, Deanna went straight to her room and rang for Elspeth. It was close to midnight, and she had no intention of spending any more time with the people downstairs. She wouldn’t be able to look Charles and Madeline in the eye. Or Lord David.

  Elspeth came flying out of the dressing room. “Sorry, miss,” she said between whoops of breath. “They’ve let Orrin out of jail. I ran down home to see Ma and the little ones and he was there.” She sucked in a breath and let it go. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. But when I was walking back, I saw the carriage coming up Ocean Avenue so I ran the whole way.”

  “Orrin is at home? They released him from jail?”

  “Yes. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Oh no! Oh Lord, no. When did they let him go?”

  Elspeth’s mouth dropped open. “This afternoon.” Her voice was quiet now. No longer excited, but wary. “What is it, Miss Deanna?”

  Deanna pulled a chair close to the dressing table. “Sit down, Elspeth.”

  Elspeth stared at the chair like it was the pit of hell instead of a pink-slippered boudoir confection. But after a stern look from Deanna, she sat, hands clasped in her lap.

  It tore at Deanna’s heart. Elspeth looked like so many of the maids she’d watched her mother chastise. Of course, none of them had ever been asked to sit. But they’d all worn that same expression of bewilderment and unease that Elspeth showed now.

  Deanna dropped down on her knees beside her.

  “What is it, miss?”

  “When did you go to see Orrin?”

  “Orrin? Why, I didn’t leave here until all of you left for the bonfire.”

  “And was he at home or at the workshop?”

  “At home. Miss Deanna, you’re scaring me. What’s the matter?”

  Deanna tried to swallow. Her mouth felt dry. She ran her tongue over her lips. Best just to say it and be done. “There’s been another murder.”

  For several heartbeats, the two women just looked at each other. Then Elspeth’s hand flew to her mouth and she started shaking her head.

  “Elspeth, get ahold of yourself. I need to know when you saw Orrin.”

  “Who is it? Where?”

  “The maid Claire. The one that came to us about Daisy wanting her to write a letter.”

  “Her? But no one said a thing downstairs.”

  “I doubt they know yet. We only just now found her body on the rocks near the Beach Club.”

  “What would she be doing there? The housekeeper here is very strict about girls stepping out any time of the day, but especially now after Daisy. . . . Besides, our folk don’t go to Bailey’s Beach. We’re not allowed there. We go to Easton’s. And Orrin wouldn’t go either place. He can’t swim. No. It weren’t Orrin who did it. It can’t be Orrin. I saw him. Why would he?”

  Deanna let her run on until she had to take a breath. “I’m sure he didn’t, but it’s best to know what to expect. So, when did you see him?”

  “I went as soon as you left. And I meant to come back earlier, but Orrin was there. Does that mean they won’t arrest him?”

  “I don’t know. How long had he been home?”

  “Ma said he came in while she was putting her take-in laundry through the wringer. Musta been about three or four.”

  “And he was there the whole time?”

  Elspeth bit her lip. “I guess so. I mean, he wanted to go tell Mr. Joseph he was out, but Ma wouldn’t let him out of her sight. They were squabbling about it when I got there. But he was going there now.” Elspeth looked at the mantel for the clock. “I left him not twenty minutes ago.”

  Deanna let out her breath. “Well, we found her at least an hour and a half ago. So if he was home all afternoon . . .”

  “Sergeant Hennessey won’t let them take him again, will he? It’ll kill my ma if they take him away again.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m sure he’s safe for now. Tomorrow we’ll go make sure.”

  Elspeth nodded and slumped down in her seat. “Poor girl. Poor Daisy, poor Claire. What’s happening in this house, Miss Deanna? Something’s not right.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Did you see her? Claire?”

  Deanna nodded. “Lord David’s
manservant had just finished his magic act—”

  “The voodoo man,” Elspeth whispered.

  “He’s just a big black man who knows magic tricks,” Deanna said, trying to convince herself as well as Elspeth. But the timing of the scream just as the lights went out . . . It sent a shiver down her spine.

  “We heard a scream, and Vlady said, ‘Over there.’ And we all ran to the rocks over past the common beach. And Vlady found her and we all went to see, and—” Deanna stopped. “Just like he found Daisy. Wait a minute. He found both girls. And Herbert. Herbert was with him both times.”

  “You think those two—”

  “No . . . but doesn’t it seem a little coincidental? Almost like they knew where to look. But no, they couldn’t, because this time they found Joe kneeling over the body.”

  “Mr. Joseph? No, miss. He’s not that kind of gentleman. Orrin says—”

  “I think we can dispense with ‘Orrin says’ for a moment.”

  Elspeth nodded.

  “Then Will and some other men came, just like the other night. And a policeman took photographs.”

  “He never.”

  “He did. All around what Will called the ‘crime scene.’ But something strange happened.”

  Elspeth’s eyes widened and she leaned forward.

  “When we got there, Vlady had beaten us and he was holding a lantern overhead. There was Joe and behind them was Charles Woodruff and Madeline Manchester.”

  “They’d come to see, too?”

  “They were standing beyond Vlady and Joe and the dead girl. I think they were already there, or somewhere nearby. And up to no good.”

  “Why, that— My ma would wash my mouth out if I said what she is. Making up to Adelaide’s intended and doing those unnatural things with her brother. Mr. Charles should know better.” Elspeth fell silent. “Maybe that voodoo man put a spell on him.”

  “I think if anyone’s casting spells, it’s Madeline and not Swan.”

  “Are you going to tell your mother?”

  “I don’t know. But until Will finds out who really killed those girls, I don’t think you should go anywhere alone. In fact, I don’t even want you sleeping in the servants’ wing. Have one of the parlor maids make you up a bed in the dressing room.”

  “But, Miss Deanna, I might be able to learn something if I stay with the other maids.”

  “I don’t care. From now on we stick together.”

  There was a rat-tat at the door and they both jumped. Deanna shooed Elspeth into the other room, then stood and fluffed her skirt. She glanced at the dressing-room door, where the door was left open an inch, just enough for an enterprising maid to keep an eye and ear on her mistress.

  “Come in.”

  The door to her bedroom opened. Madeline slipped in and closed it behind her. “I think I should explain.”

  Chapter

  17

  It took Deanna a second to get over her surprise at seeing Madeline dressed in a white-and-gold night dress. Her hair was unclasped but not yet put up for the night. It flowed around her shoulders like golden threads.

  Madeline did owe them all an explanation, but Deanna wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. She considered playing dumb, and saying, “Whatever do you mean?” But Madeline was not slow. So Deanna motioned to the chair Elspeth had just vacated.

  Madeline sat down. Reluctantly, thought Deanna. Well, she should be contrite. Then Deanna remembered what her old governess used to say about catching flies with honey. And even if Deanna couldn’t quite accuse Madeline of being that disgusting insect, she still didn’t like her very much right now.

  Deanna sat on the dressing table bench. And waited.

  There was a brief but awkward silence, then Madeline blurted out, “I saw you looking at Charles and me on the beach, when we discovered Joe kneeling over the dead girl.”

  Deanna held her tongue.

  “You’re probably thinking that we shouldn’t have been there—together.”

  Deanna tilted her head coldly. Having watched her mother all these years, Deanna knew how to make someone squirm. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the usual affect on Madeline, who sat demurely looking into her hands, the picture of unhappiness.

  Deanna started to thaw.

  “We were just walking. I’ve seen Swan doing his magic show so many times, and Charles suggested that we look at the view from the top of the rocks. And it was so lovely, until—”

  Deanna began to have doubts. Maybe Charles had loosened his waistcoat while he was sitting on the sand. Some of the fellows had taken off their jackets. In the dark he might not have noticed that he’d buttoned it wrong.

  But they’d been standing so close. And they really shouldn’t have been walking out alone, regardless, especially since Charles was an engaged man.

  “We were standing there looking over the water, and I know it probably wasn’t the correct thing to do, but you see, things are much different in Barbados, and I sometimes don’t remember that manners are much stricter here.”

  Still Deanna waited. She wanted to believe Madeline, mainly for Adelaide’s sake, but recalled the image of Charles with his arm around her, her head on his shoulder. . . .

  “I was feeling faint, seeing that poor girl and Joseph Ballard leaning over her. It was such a shock.” Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “It was terrible.”

  “Weren’t you the first to find her?”

  Madeline blinked quickly several times. “What? No. We were standing above, and Charles—well, I’ll tell you, but please don’t tell Cassie—Charles and I saw something, so we climbed down and there they were. And I screamed.”

  “That was you?”

  Deanna didn’t remember Madeline volunteering that information to Will. “Why didn’t you say so when we were all there? We thought it must have been Claire.”

  “Who is Claire?”

  “The girl who was killed. Her name was Claire.”

  “Oh.” Madeline pulled a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “I was afraid. I’m not one of you, and I thought people would get all the wrong ideas. That’s selfish of me, I know. I suppose I am a selfish creature. But beyond that, how could I say anything when I would’ve had to tell them that your friend Joseph was the murderer?”

  “He wasn’t.” The denial rolled out before Deanna could stop it.

  “Oh, my dear, I know he’s your friend, but he was there, kneeling over her. What else was he doing there, down among the rocks?”

  This wasn’t what Deanna had expected. Another damning accusation against Joe. She needed to talk to him and get him to tell her exactly what was going on. What he was doing on the cliff, when he’d just left her a few minutes before. Meeting the maid? It didn’t make sense.

  And what could she say to Madeline, looking lovely and repentant and innocent, and yet whom Deanna had seen kissing her own brother? Deanna could barely repulse a shudder.

  “I don’t usually get so hysterical. But with the murder of the first maid and now this? Well, things like that just don’t happen in Barbados . . . at least not that I’ve ever been privy to.” Madeline lowered her head, the golden curls reflecting the light. “Can I tell you something?”

  Deanna nodded slightly. “I guess.” She wished she’d tell her something that made sense.

  Madaeline looked up. “And you promise you won’t tell anyone?”

  Deanna wasn’t sure about that, but she crossed her fingers and nodded again.

  “You may hate me.”

  “Just say it.” Deanna smiled quickly, hopefully looking sympathetic while she chastised herself. More flies with honey, more flies with honey. “You can tell me. Anything.” She smiled again, but her heart was pounding. She didn’t like misleading people, but in her few months in society, she’d learned that it was common practice and someti
mes necessary. Besides, Kate Goelet had been known to prevaricate in the course of an investigation. And what was this if not an investigation?

  “I do like Charles. Actually”—Madeline paused to dab at her eyes—“I love him. And he loves me. I know he’s engaged to your sister, and I don’t blame you if you never speak to me again, but I have to be honest. We didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. I think he was feeling depressed because Adelaide is so sickly and he’s afraid that she will always be sickly.”

  Cassie’s words burned in Deanna’s mind. With Adelaide always getting the headache, it can’t be fun for him.

  “I know we’re doomed not to be together.”

  Deanna had a hard time keeping her countenance. Charles Woodruff was no Romeo.

  “But I’ll be leaving soon. As soon as David finishes up this sugar business with your father and Mr. Woodruff, I’ll go back to Barbados, and Charles will forget about me and marry your sister.” Two large tears appeared from her swimming eyes. This time Madeline didn’t try to stop them from rolling down her cheeks. “And I—well, I’ll get over him, too—in time.”

  Deanna didn’t know what to do with that confession. Her first reaction was to say, Take him. Why would Adelaide want someone so fickle and disloyal? But she didn’t know what Adelaide would want, so she held her tongue.

  “Please forgive me, and don’t say anything. Nothing will come of it, and everything will go back to normal when we’re gone.”

  Deanna doubted that. She’d never be able to look at Charles Woodruff again without thinking he was a two-timing cheat.

  Madeline looked heartbroken sitting there with her head bowed, the light shining down on her penitent pose, but Deanna just wanted to tear that lovely blonde hair from her head. Innocence Driving the Harlot from Her Home.

  But Deanna wasn’t exactly innocent and Madeline wasn’t exactly a harlot . . . was she? Flies with honey, she reminded herself.

  Deanna stood. “Well, it’s unfortunate, but it isn’t too late to save your”—Deanna nearly choked on the next word—“reputation. And if Charles truly loves you, then what can I say to it?”