The colonel, as usual, completely ignored his wife’s reprimand. “Middle of the desert, hot as blazes, and we were all dying of thirst. I was riding ahead of the troops on a blasted elephant. Dashed awkward beasts to ride. Much prefer a horse. All that wriggling around was playing havoc with my-”
Phoebe sat up straight. “Freddie!”
The colonel coughed. “Ah… ahem, yes. Anyway, my batman spotted a pile of rags up ahead. He-”
“Frederick!” Phoebe glared at him. “No one is the least bit interested in your interminable war stories. Please cease and desist this minute.”
Normally Cecily would have been in full agreement. Knowing, however, that Phoebe was intent on learning every detail of the murders and the missing baby, the colonel’s tales were vastly preferable. “It’s quite all right, Phoebe. Do go on, Colonel. Your story is quite fascinating.”
Madeline sent her a grateful look, while Phoebe stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. After all, Cecily was always the first one to cut off the Colonel’s hair-raising accounts.
Fortescue needed no further bidding. “Well, anyway, that pesky bundle of rags turned out to be a child. Must have been abandoned by her tribe. Half dead she was, and skinny as a gutted rabbit.”
Cecily winced, while Phoebe shuddered. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she muttered.
Oblivious to the appalled reaction to his story, the colonel blithely continued. “Chalky, my batman, suggested we put her on the elephant with me and take her into town. Well, of course, we had to put the dratted thing on its knees to get her up there. Got it down all right, managed to get some water down the child’s throat, and tied her to the harness so she wouldn’t slide off.” He paused, staring at the clock on the mantelpiece. “I say, is that the time? I’m late for my midday snifter.”
Phoebe looked relieved. “So you are. Run along, then, Freddie. I’ll catch up to you later.”
The colonel blinked at her, as if he didn’t understand a word she’d said. “Right ho. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Well, the elephant started to get up before I was ready. I slid right off the blasted thing. Fell right down on my-”
“Freddie!”
Fortescue scowled. “Tailbone. Couldn’t sit down for a week. Had to eat standing up. Dashed awkward that. Especially at the regimental dinner. Dribbled gravy all down my uniform. Still hurts in the rear if I sit down too hard.”
Phoebe rose from her chair, quivering with indignation. “Frederick Fortescue. I insist that you either be quiet or leave. This instant.”
The colonel looked surprised. “No need to shout. I’m on my way.” He turned to Cecily and bowed. “Good to see you, old bean. Looking forward to the carol singing tonight. Should raise the roof, what? What?”
“Indeed, Colonel. We look forward to enjoying your participation.”
Phoebe grunted something under her breath, while the colonel reached for Madeline’s hand. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he said gruffly. “All will be well. I feel it in my bones.”
Madeline smiled. “So do I, Colonel. Thank you.”
Phoebe waited until the door had closed behind her husband before exploding with wrath. “That man can be so insufferable, I really don’t know-” A loud rapping on the door interrupted her. “Well! If that’s Frederick again I’ll-”
She never got the chance to say what she would do. Without waiting for permission, Gertie had bounced into the room, words tumbling from her mouth so fast it was difficult to understand her.
“We found her. She’s all right. It was the Millshire youngsters. Found them in the tree house. Laughing like hyenas they were. Clive climbed up the tree and got her. He’s-” She looked over her shoulder. “Clive? Come on! Bring her in here, then!”
Madeline was already halfway across the room. As Clive’s bulky body filled the doorway, the baby in his arms, Madeline let out a cry so desperate, only then did Cecily realize just how well her friend had hidden her torment.
Madeline snatched the baby from the maintenance man and held her close, rocking her while murmuring soft words in her ear.
Cecily got up and patted Gertie on the shoulder. “Well done.”
“Yes, m’m, but it was Clive that found her.” Gertie’s face was flushed with excitement. “It was the little girl, Adelaide. She said she wanted to play with a real live baby. I don’t think she understands what she did.” Gertie glanced at Madeline. “She took really good care of her, Mrs. Prestwick. The baby’s all wrapped up in Lady Millshire’s shawl, and she wasn’t crying all that much.”
Madeline buried her face in the soft folds of the shawl for a moment, then looked up at Clive. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you both. I will give you both a special gift for this. Something precious to last a lifetime.”
“Completely unnecessary, m’m,” Clive said, looking bashful. “I just did my job, that’s all.”
“And me. I’m just glad the baby is all right.” Gertie glanced at Cecily. “I suppose I should go and help Pansy. She’s in the dining room. I’m afraid the midday meal is taking a bit longer to serve up.”
“That’s all right, Gertie. I think we can be forgiven for that this once.”
“Yes, m’m.” Gertie grinned and bent her knees in a slight curtsey.
Cecily turned to Clive. “Would you see if you can find my husband and Dr. Prestwick? Tell them we will meet them in the dining room.”
“Yes, m’m. I do believe they went up to the roof garden. I’ll find them.”
He turned to leave, then paused, waiting for Gertie to go ahead of him.
“I’ll be going then.” Gertie nudged Clive in the arm as she passed him by, and he followed her out the door.
Phoebe rose from her chair. “Well, thank goodness that’s over. Let me look at the little precious.” She cooed for a moment over the baby, who now appeared to be sleeping.
“Would you and the colonel care to join us in the dining room?” Cecily asked, ignoring Madeline’s rolling eyes.
“Oh, no thank you.” Phoebe reached for her umbrella. “Freddie is probably drinking his meal, and I have too much to do to waste time eating. I’ll take advantage of the fact that everyone is in the dining room. It will give me time to make my preparations for tonight.” She bustled over to the door. “Thank you, Cecily, and Madeline, I’m so happy your little one is safe.” She blew a kiss, and left.
Cecily walked over to Madeline and patted the baby’s head. “Did you know that the little girl had taken Angelina?”
“No.” Madeline looked down at her sleeping baby. “I just knew that it would be a mistake to call in the constables. I knew that whoever had her meant her no harm.”
“Still, it was a terrible thing to do. The child must be made to realize-” She broke off as yet another tap on the door interrupted her. “Really,” she murmured, as she crossed the room, “we are most popular today. The whole world is calling on us.”
The woman standing outside had obviously been crying. In fact, the moment she started to speak, more tears poured down her cheeks. Recognizing her, Cecily opened the door wider. “Do come in, Lady Millshire.”
“I was told Mrs. Prestwick is with you,” the other woman said, gulping back a sob. “I would like a word with her.”
“Yes, she’s in here.” Cecily stood back, and Lady Millshire entered, dabbing at her eyes with a small white handkerchief.
Cecily decided to leave. Obviously the woman had come to apologize to Madeline, something that would be difficult enough for her to do without having to suffer an audience.
“I will meet you in the dining room,” she told Madeline, and left them alone to have their discussion in peace.
Instead of going straight to the dining room, she stopped by the office to take a peek at the banquet pictures left by the photographer.
She found them lying on her desk and quickly shuffled through them. She found one of herself and Baxter that she particularly liked, and put it to one side. It was a shame that someone hadn’t yet perfec
ted colored photography, she thought, as she gazed at the images of elegantly dressed guests enjoying the feast. The pretty gowns lost some of their luster in the sepia shades.
She put the photographs down, and as she did so, she had an odd sensation of recognition. She knew the feeling well. It meant she was aware of something that hadn’t yet registered in her mind.
Could it be something in the photographs? She picked them up and studied each one for several moments. There was nothing she could see that had any bearing on the murders. Frustrated, she glanced at the clock. Right now she was supposed to be meeting Madeline and her husband, and it would be most rude of her to be late. Leaving the photographs on her desk, she left the office and hurried along the corridor to the dining room.
CHAPTER 19
Gertie stood by the dumbwaiter outside the dining room, fidgeting in a fever of impatience. The delay in starting the midday meal had cost her valuable time. Right now she was supposed to be on the seafront, meeting Dan under their favorite lamppost by the Punch and Judy stand. That’s if he bothered to turn up.
Tapping her foot, she waited for the waiter to rise, her arms aching from holding the tray weighed down with dirty dishes. In order to save time she’d overloaded it, and now she was in danger of dropping the bloody lot on the floor.
The rope jerked, then started threading downward, which meant the platform was on its way up. About flipping time, too.
She barely waited long enough to secure it before dumping the tray on it, then lowered it rapidly to the floor below.
A loud clattering of china echoed up the chamber, and she flinched. Maybe she’d done it a little too fast. As if to agree with her, an irate voice floated up to her. “Here! Flipping watch it up there, will you!”
“Sorry!” Gertie shook her head and rushed back to the dining room. Pansy was just coming out the doors with another loaded tray, and Gertie had to skip sideways to avoid crashing into her.
“Blimey.” Pansy stared at her. “That was close.”
Gertie gritted her teeth to prevent a curse from escaping. “I just hope Dan’s there waiting for me, that’s all.”
Pansy sighed. “Look, why don’t you go on and meet him. I can finish up here. I can get one of the other maids to help me.”
Gertie felt like hugging her. “You will?”
“You did it for me when I was meeting Samuel.” Pansy grinned. “Remember? You said I could do it for you some day. Looks like this is the day.”
“You’re a good sort.” Gertie slapped her on the shoulder, rattling the tray in Pansy’s hands. “Ta, ever so.” Wasting no more time, she tore off down the hallway, dragging her apron off as she went.
Ten minutes later she was running down the Esplanade, praying that Dan would be there. After the flipping row they’d had at the cottage, he might have decided to forget about her. Or maybe he’d got there and waited so long he’d thought she wasn’t coming.
It was already getting dark, and the lamplighter had started his rounds. As Gertie rushed past him, he nodded and smiled, then reached up with his long pole to light the gas lamp above his head.
Farther down, to her immense relief, she saw a tall figure leaning against their lamppost. Gasping for breath, she slowed her step and patted her hair. He was there. He’d waited. That’s all that mattered. She had an hour and a half to spare before she had to get back. The twins would be arriving on the evening train. They’d be home just in time to go to the carol singing ceremony.
A twinge of doubt attacked her stomach. What if he couldn’t come to the ceremony? He was always busy on Christmas Eve, taking toys to the orphans. Once she’d even managed to get away from her duties to help him.
Tonight he’d have to go on his own. Tonight belonged to her twins. They’d been gone over a week, and she couldn’t wait to see them again. Still, that was later. He’d still have time to come carol singing before he left for the orphanage.
She drew closer, close enough to see Dan’s grin as he waved at her. A rush of warmth almost overwhelmed her. She loved this man. If only she knew how he really felt about her. If only she could trust him.
For some reason a vision of Clive popped in her head. Impatient with herself, she pushed the thought away. Clive was a good friend, but she could never think of him in that way. Only Dan could make her knees weak and her heart beat so fast she could hardly breathe.
She reached him, and he held out his arms. She went straight into them, regardless of who might see her. After all the worrying, the relief was like a warm blanket, wrapping itself around her and shutting out all the cold and darkness.
“How’s my sweetheart?” Dan murmured in her ear.
He always greeted her that way, and she never got tired of hearing it. Tonight, however, she needed more. She pulled back, tilting her chin up so she could see his face. “Am I your sweetheart? Really?”
“Of course you are.” He pulled her close, and would have kissed her, except she turned her face away. “What’s the matter?” He sounded irritated and the warm feeling melted away. “Are you still angry at me?”
“No.” Without the comfort of his arms the cold seemed to seep into her bones. She hunched her shoulders against the wind.
“It’s just that I never really know if you mean it or not.”
“Of course I mean it.”
He tugged at her arm, but she kept the space between them, wary of being swayed by his soft words. Deep down she knew they were at some kind of crossroads, and what was said in the next few minutes could change everything.
Dan let her go, and turned away. He took a few steps away from her, and for a frightening moment she thought he was leaving, but then he halted, and walked back to her.
“Look, Gertie, I’m sorry about what happened in the cottage. I was wrong to pressure you. I know that. If I didn’t care so much about you it never would have happened. It’s because I think so much of you that I got carried away. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He still hadn’t said he loved her. He couldn’t say it, she told herself, because he didn’t feel it. He never had really loved her. Pride made her lift her chin and look him in the eye.
“I think perhaps I should go home. My twins will be arriving soon and I want to be there when they get home.”
“The train isn’t due for another two hours.” Dan’s face was grave when he looked at her. “Besides, I rather wanted to be there with you when they came home.”
He’d surprised her. She looked down at her feet and drew a circle on the pavement with her shoe. “What for?”
He didn’t answer right away, and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded strange. “Gertie, I was going to do this later, but I think this might be a better time.”
In utter disbelief, she watched him kneel down in front of her. “Gertie McBride, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I promise to take care of you and the twins, and try to be the best husband and father I can.”
Her mouth hung open so long her tongue froze. She tried to speak, but only a squeak came out.
Dan tilted his head to one side and peered up at her. “What was that?”
Gertie took a deep breath. “Bloody hell.”
Dan looked anxious. “Is that a yes or no?”
“Yes!” Gertie choked and cleared her throat. “I’d love to marry you.”
“Well, thank goodness that’s settled.” Dan got to his feet, grabbed hold of her, and soundly kissed her.
A burst of applause drew them apart. The lamplighter stood just a few feet away, his pole propped against his shoulder. “Congratulations!” he called out, and pulled off his cap to wave it at them.
Gertie felt as if the entire Esplanade was rocking under her feet. All the lamps along the seafront twinkled in the dusk, bathing their garlands of holly and berries in a warm glow. Gertie drew her hands to her face, still trying to believe what had just happened. Dan had asked her to marry him. Now it was really Christmas.
Cecily stood next to Baxt
er by the library door, hoping she’d put enough pins in her hair to keep it securely fastened all evening. Having been kept busy all afternoon, she’d barely had time to breathe, much less get herself dressed for the carol singing ceremony.
Inside the room, Phoebe was darting about, giving last-minute instructions to the fidgety schoolgirls who were opening the evening with the first carol. Behind them, the pianist and violinist were quietly arguing about an arrangement, while the other two members of the quartet sat on their chairs looking bored.
The colored glass balls on the Christmas tree slowly rotated in the draft, sparkling in the light from the chandelier above. Flames leapt in the fireplace, and above it boughs of holly and fir covered the mantelpiece, tied together with bright red and white ribbons. Holly wreaths clung to the wood paneling and Madeline had hung little golden bells among the prickly leaves. Satisfied that the room looked its best, Cecily prepared to greet her first guests.
Sir Walter arrived first, looking resplendent in a black morning coat. His wife, dressed in a gorgeous pink lace gown, clung to his arm as if afraid to lose him.
“You look utterly ravishing this evening, Mrs. Baxter,” Sir Walter murmured, as he raised her gloved hand to his lips.
Cecily felt a telltale warmth creep over her cheeks. “You are too kind, sir.”
“I speak the truth.” He turned to Baxter, who looked as if he’d swallowed a sour lemon. “Do I not, old chap?”
“If you say so, then it must be true,” Baxter said, his voice as stiff as his face.
Cecily hurriedly turned to Sir Walter’s wife. “Such a pleasure to see you, Lady Esmeralda.”
“And you, Mrs. Baxter.” She gave Cecily a gracious smile. “The library looks so festive. A perfect setting for singing carols.”
“Thank you.” Cecily turned to look into the room. “I was just thinking, it’s a shame I didn’t have the photographer come back this evening. He took such lovely photographs at the banquet. I must say, however, that Mrs. Prestwick surpassed herself this year decorating the library, and it would have been lovely to have photographs to keep.”
Mistletoe and Mayhem Page 20
