by V. B. Tenery
Grace stared into the mirror and saw a pale face with frightened blue eyes looking back. Her parents would be livid because she hadn’t at least told them before she married a man they’d never even heard of, much less met. She wasn’t good at deception and it would take a miracle to pull this off.
She stiffened her spine, stepped into the hallway, and went in search of Bunny. The smell of baking bread led Grace into the kitchen. Bunny turned from the oven when Grace entered. “Why, Grace. You look smashing, like a beautiful bride.”
Grace almost laughed. “Funny you should say that. I know it’s rather sudden, but Commander Hamilton and I are getting married in a few hours.”
Bunny moved from the stove and pulled her into an exuberant hug. “I thought there was an attraction between you two. I’m so happy for you.” She stopped, and her face paled with concern. “Does this mean I’m out of a job?”
“Here, yes. Don’t worry. I have something else in mind for you. I don’t have time to go into detail now. We’ll talk when I return.”
Magistrate’s Office
London, England
A car from the Home Office with Nigel Lewis at the wheel delivered them to the magistrate’s chambers. One hour later, Grey and Grace were married. C had arranged for all the necessary paperwork and even a bridal bouquet. Grace looked stunning, though pale, and judging by the blank stare felt more than a little dazed, which he hoped would appear as bridal nerves to the photographers. He slipped the emerald and diamond wedding rings onto her slim finger. The set was a little too big but they could take care of that later.
His own emotions, although under control, were no less troubled. The last thing he wanted was to be married to a woman he didn’t know and didn’t love. He pledged to see that whoever arranged that lewd scene in his bedroom would bloody well pay dearly. Despite the war, he and his new bride would be forced to play out this charade in social situations neither one of them wanted to suffer through.
As they stepped into the corridor, flashbulbs brightened the hallway. Grey groaned inwardly. There was a Movietone New cameraman in the group. Reporters showered them with questions. “Commander Hamilton, how long have you known each other?”
“Almost a year,” he lied.
“How did you manage to find such a beauty in the middle of a war?”
“We Hamiltons have always been lucky.”
“Where did you meet?”
He kept moving towards the exit, guiding Grace along beside him. “At a social engagement.”
“Would you like to elaborate?”
“No.”
They laughed.
“Where do you plan to live? At Amherst?”
“No. Haven’t you heard? There’s a war on.”
More laughter.
A reporter turned his attention to Grace. “How does it feel to be the new Lady Amherst?”
“A little overwhelming at the moment, but I have lots of time to get used to it.”
Grey held up his hand. “That’s all, gentlemen. I’m sure you have more pressing war news to cover.”
The Home Office black Rolls Royce waited for them outside. Grey quickly ushered Grace into the back-seat and slid in beside her.
“Where do you want to go?” Lewis asked.
“Back to my apartment,” Grace said. “I have to call Aunt Edie, and I must wire my parents before they hear it on the news.”
She gazed out the car window and said softly, almost to herself, “I don’t know if she or my mother will ever forgive me for this hasty wedding, but it’s certainly better than the alternative.”
“Did C fill you in?” Grey directed his question at Lewis.
Lewis nodded. “Nasty business.”
Bristol Arms Apartments
London, England
After Lewis dropped them at the flat, Grace went to make the necessary calls, including one for him to his mother. He changed out of his wedding clothes and left the building. He would try to contact Grace’s father later and apologize for not asking for permission to marry his daughter.
For now, there was a waiter at the Savoy who had a few questions to answer.
CHAPTER 11
The Savoy
London, England
Grey strolled into the hotel lobby and made his way to the concierge desk. He pulled a gold embossed card from inside his coat and handed it to the frail-looking man behind the counter. He seldom used his title unless he needed cooperation from individuals whom it might impress. “I’d like to speak to the manager.”
The clerk adjusted his glasses, scanned the card, then glanced up at Grey. “Certainly, Lord Amherst. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I’m afraid not. I need to speak to whomever is in charge.”
“Of course, sir. May I tell him what it concerns?”
“Just tell him it’s a personal matter.”
The clerk nodded and picked up an intercom receiver behind the counter. He spoke in low tones Grey couldn’t hear, then hung up. “Mister Arseneau will be with you momentarily, sir.”
While he waited for the manager, Grey glanced into the dining room where staff was busy adding fresh table linens and floral arrangements. He didn’t see the waiter from last night among them.
Moments later a distinguished man who looked to be in his early fifties crossed the lobby, headed in Grey’s direction. He spoke with a slight French accent. “Good afternoon, Lord Amherst. I am Francois Arseneau. How may I be of service?”
“Is there someplace more private we can talk?”
“Of course.” He led Grey to a small office just off the lobby and closed the door. Arseneau took a seat and waited.
“I was here last evening in the Grill Room with my wife. I believe your waiter added a sedative to our tea . . . to put it bluntly, he drugged us.” Referring to Grace as his wife sounded strange to his ears, a term with which he would have to become familiar.
The manager’s face blanched. “Surely you must be mistaken, monsieur.”
“There’s no mistake.” Grey pulled his MI6 ID from his wallet and handed it to the manager. “I’m not holding the hotel responsible. I just want to speak to the waiter or find out where I can reach him.”
Arseneau’s shoulders relaxed and a little color came back into his face. “Certainly. We would not want such a person on staff at the Savoy. The chef is in charge of the restaurant staff, but the maître d’ would be most helpful. He hires and supervises our waiters. Follow me. Where were you sitting?”
“In the Grill Room.” Grey pointed out his table and took a seat while the manager went in search of the maître d’.
It had been an insane day, beginning with the blackmail attempt and ending with the wedding. Perhaps his suggestion of marriage had been too hasty. Were there options he hadn’t considered? He rubbed his hand down over his face; searching for other choices, and found none. In any event, it was too late for second thoughts.
Things happened so fast they’d had no time to discuss what they would do after the killer was in custody. Would Grace want to return to Bletchley Park? He assumed so. Of course he would return to his job there, and they would more than likely be forced into sharing quarters, as the news of their marriage would be in all the papers this afternoon, and on movie screen Movietone newsreels by the end of the week.
What a bloody mess.
He thought of the photographs and flexed his fingers, very much wanting to wrap them around the waiter’s scrawny neck.
His dark reflections were interrupted by the hotel manager’s return with a short, tuxedo-clad man in tow. Grey stood and met them half way across the carpeted floor. Arseneau’s wrinkled brow told Grey the news was not good. The hotel manager introduced the maître d’ before he spoke. “I’m afraid I have bad news. The man who served this section left the job last evening around ten. Without notice, I might add.
“He gave his name as Fredrick Soames and was only hired two days ago.” He handed Grey a piece of paper. “This is the add
ress he gave us. I do apologize, Lord Amherst. Before the war we would have checked the man’s references thoroughly, but with the manpower . . .”
Grey held up his hand. He knew the shortages all too well. “I understand. Thank you for your help.” He pocketed the address, knowing it would lead nowhere. Perhaps with Grace’s gift with a sketch pad, she could make a drawing for Aubrey to show around the Yard. Although he hadn’t found his man, he had learned one important fact: Someone had been following him. That was the only way they would have known to plant the waiter at the Savoy.
He fastened his raincoat against the downpour as he crossed the street to his car. He couldn’t say he was surprised the waiter had vanished. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised.
A soft mew caught Grey’s attention as he passed an alley. He glanced over to see a small grey and white kitten scrounging in a trash bin. Finding nothing, the tiny creature sat on its hunches and stared up at him with soulful blue eyes.
“Sorry old man. I don’t have time for a pet. No servants, you see. No one to take care of you while I’m away.”
“Mew.”
“Stop looking at me like that. Truly, there is no room in my life for a pet.” He turned to walk away.
“Mew.”
The kitten sat there, its fur soaked, water dripping off its head into sad wide eyes. It had given up and would sit there until it died from cold and starvation.
“Oh bloody hell,” he said as he scooped the tiny animal inside his Macintosh. “Why me? Why didn’t you pick on some other gullible idiot?”
Bristol Arms Apartments
London, England
Grace sent off a wire to her parents, cringing as she did so. Her mother would be upset and her father would be furious.
She managed to get a call through to Aunt Edie, who was excited, but more than a little mystified at the suddenness and disappointed that neither she nor Vic had been invited. She’d given her aunt a vague excuse that because of their work schedule they’d had no time to plan a wedding with guests. Before hanging up, she broached the subject of Bunny. “Do you need help with your invalids?” She explained Bunny’s situation. “She’s really a lovely person and I’ve learned to like her immensely. I know she would be a great help to you.”
“I would love to have her, if she’s willing. I need all the hands to the task I can get.”
After ringing off with her aunt, Grace made the hardest call of all. The one to Grey’s mother. It would be inexcusable for his mother to get the news from the tabloids.
When Lady Amherst picked up the phone, Grace told her the news, and apologized for not having invited her, then gave her the same lame excuse she’d given her aunt.
There was a long pause before Grey’s mother spoke, and Grace caught the hurt in her voice. “Thank you for calling, Grace, and welcome to the family. I think you’ll be good for my son. I do hope you and he will allow me to hold a small reception for friends and family. It will be expected because of his station. I can come to the city and do it at my apartment or at one of the hotels.”
“I’ll speak to Grey and let you know,” Grace said. “What would you like me to call you? This is all new to me, and I’m a little overwhelmed.”
She gave a soft laugh. “I can imagine. Call me Vic if you’re comfortable with that.”
When the conversation ended, Grace dropped the receiver back onto the cradle. She decided she really liked Victoria Hamilton. She was a kind and humble woman Grace wanted to get to know better.
Duties taken care of, she went in search of Bunny. She would be terrified of having to go back to Molly’s. The poor girl had just settled into her job here and now it had vanished without warning.
Grace found her in the kitchen, stirring a hearty stew.
Sniffing the air Grace said, “Mmmm that smells wonderful. Can you lower the heat under the pot for a moment? We need to talk.”
Bunny reduced the fire and replaced the lid, then followed Grace into the living room.
After they were seated on the sofa, Grace placed her hand over Bunny’s. “I am sorry about this interruption just as you were settling in. I have a couple of options for you to consider. My aunt has turned her home into a convalescent center for the wounded who have no place to go, and Grey’s mother has taken in children from the city. It boils down to whether you would rather work with children or help take care of invalids. I haven’t spoken to Grey’s mother, but I’m sure she can use extra help. Either would get you out of London and away from these horrid air raids.”
Bunny’s eyes shone in the dreary light of day. “Thank you, Grace. Here you are, a young bride worrying about finding me a home.” She reached out and gave Grace a quick hug. “I confess I have been worried about having to impose on Molly again. If it’s alright with your aunt, I think I would prefer to work with the wounded. I’d like to think that if my Angus had lived, someone would have taken care of him.”
“I’ll call Aunt Edie and let her know you’ll be coming. She’ll be more than happy to have you there. I’ll draw you a map and you can leave whenever you’re ready.”
Bunny went to her room to begin packing and Grace checked the soup to ensure it didn’t burn.
Two hours later, the front door opened and she looked up to see Grey enter.
“Any luck?” she asked.
He removed his hat, but kept his coat on. “The waiter struck out for parts unknown. It seems he left right after he dumped us into the automobile. You probably won’t be shocked to know his home address was a warehouse near the docks. Do you think you could make a sketch of the man for Aubrey to post at Scotland Yard?”
“Of course. I’ll get right on it after we eat. Are you hungry? The aroma of the stew reminded me I missed breakfast. I assume you haven’t eaten either. Shall I fix a bowl for you?”
“Please, I’m famished. And speaking of hungry, I brought you a gift.” He pulled the bedraggled kitten from his coat and held it out to her with both hands.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You brought this for me?” The kitten mewed and she was sunk. “He’s beautiful.”
“Indeed, and very hungry,” Grey added.
She towel-dried the kitten and gave it a small bowl of diluted evaporated milk. “I’d better feed you slowly or you’ll get sick.”
The kitten finished the milk in short order and curled up beside the stove and fell asleep.
She glared at Grey. “You realize this gift complicates my life immeasurably. How am I going to care for a cat and work?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t leave him to die. Are you too mad to feed me?”
She shook her head and heaved a deep sigh. “I would have done the same thing. Have a seat and I’ll bring in the stew.”
She invited Bunny to join them, but she said she’d eat later after she finished packing. Grace placed the soup, bread, and margarine in front of Grey and sat across from him.
“Where’s Bunny?” he asked.
“Packing. She’s going to Aunt Edie’s to stay and help with her new endeavor. I think she’ll like it there.”
He spooned a bite into his mouth. “This is good. Did you make it?”
“Bunny gets the credit.” She smiled. “It’s good to know you’re not accustomed to seven-course meals. They would be hard to come by while we’re busy dodging bombs.”
He gave her a half-smile. “The officer’s mess aboard ship is usually quite good, but nothing like meals at home before the war, and we won’t even discuss what I eat when I’m on a mission. One learns to cope.”
She rose and carried her bowl to the kitchen. “Would you care for more? There’s plenty.”
“Please.” He passed her his bowl.
She placed the refill before him and settled back in her chair. “I spoke to your mother. She seemed a little disappointed you didn’t make the call to her personally, although she didn’t say so. She wants to plan a reception for us here in London.”
He gave a resigned nod. “I
suppose it has to be done. Will you work with her on the arrangements? If she can do it in the next seven days, before the Becke business gets underway, that would be best. Have you heard from Aubrey?”
She swallowed a last bite and stood. “No, he hasn’t called or come by. I’ll start on that sketch as soon as I put the dishes away.” She started towards the kitchen then turned back. “I realize you’re going to have to tell him everything.” Heat rose to her cheeks and she couldn’t look into his eyes. “But please, don’t show him the photographs.”
He stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, gave them a gentle squeeze, and turned her to face him. “There are a few people who will have to see them. Unfortunately, Aubrey and the men at the Yard have to examine them and the envelope for fingerprints.”
He seemed to sense her mortification, and pulled her into his arms. “I would save you this embarrassment if I could, but those tests have to be run to help find the person responsible. And, unfortunately, there are also negatives out there somewhere.” He rubbed her back gently. “Grace. I’ll find those negatives and the person who took the pictures. That’s a promise.”
Grace shivered at the thought of the photographs being made public. She would die of shame. Grey had a vested interest in keeping them out of the tabloids as well. Difficult as it was, she had to trust him to keep that promise.
***
Grey held her for a moment while she brought her emotions under control. She didn’t cry. Grace wasn’t the kind to cry over something she couldn’t control. He hadn’t told her that if and when the case went to trial, the photographs would become part of the case record. That little bit of information could wait.
Grace picked up the kitten and rubbed its soft fur against her cheek. “I’m going to have to find a name for you. I can’t keep calling you kitty. Maybe Stormy, as you are certainly an orphan in the storm.”
He carried Bunny’s luggage to her car and gave her the map Grace had drawn. She stood with the car door open for a moment, then impulsively reached and hugged him. “I hope you know how lucky you are, Commander. Grace is a remarkable woman. Beautiful inside and out.”
