Lady Esmeralda nodded. “It would, indeed. I must confess, I’m anxious to see the photographs of the banquet. Walter and I don’t have that many photographs taken.”
“Ah, well, I left them in my office.” Cecily smiled. “I’ll have them all on display in the library tomorrow.”
“Splendid!” Lady Esmeralda took hold of her husband’s arm again. “Shall we, then?”
“Of course, my dear.”
“I do hope you will enjoy the evening,” Cecily said, giving her own husband a nudge.
Baxter coughed. “Yes, yes, do have a nice evening.”
“We’ll certainly try.” Lady Esmeralda sighed. “We almost didn’t come down. My husband has such a dreadful headache.” She sent him an anxious look. “He’s had far too many headaches lately.”
Cecily took a closer look at Sir Walter’s face. He did seem drawn and pale. “I’m so sorry. Can I get you a powder? Mrs. Chubb always keeps some in the kitchen for emergencies.”
Sir Walter shook his head and winced. “Thank you, no. A glass of your good brandy will soon chase it away.”
“That always makes him feel better,” Lady Esmeralda said. “He’ll be in good spirits once he joins in the singing. Though I must confess, it’s rather hard to feel festive when one is in fear of being murdered in one’s bed.”
Cecily felt a pang of dismay. Apparently word had spread faster than she’d thought. “We are taking every precaution to see that doesn’t happen,” she said, and received a questioning look from her husband, which she duly ignored. “I’m hoping the soothing effects of the carols will help take our minds off the tragedies.”
“Ah, yes. The carols. We adore carol singers, don’t we, Walter?”
“Positively, my dear.” Sir Walter patted the hand clutching his arm. “We always had them call on us at Rosewood. This is our first Christmas away from home. We would have missed the carol singing had we not been fortunate enough to enjoy it tonight. After all, it wouldn’t be Christmas without carols, is that not so?”
“Quite so, and I’m happy you were able to join us.” Cecily waved a hand at the door. “Please, go in and make yourselves comfortable.”
The couple glided into the room, and Cecily turned to her husband. She was about to make a comment about Sir Walter’s sickly appearance, but just then the Millshires arrived, minus their children, much to Cecily’s relief. From all accounts, the Millshires’ offspring could be quite disruptive.
She had no time to dwell on her thoughts after that. The rest of the guests arrived in groups, and by the time everyone was settled the schoolgirls were about to start singing the first carol.
As the clear voices rose to the high ceiling, the beautiful chords of “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” accompanied them, filling the room with the lyrical music.
Cecily wished that Madeline had been there to hear it. She loved Christmas carols. She had decided not to come to the ceremony after all. Apart from the fact that Angelina had tasted more than her share of adventure that day, the trauma had taken a toll on Madeline, and all she’d wanted to do was take her baby home and watch over her.
It was a shame, really. The carols were such an important part of the season. The story of the birth of Christ, and the meaning of the true spirit of Christmas. As Sir Walter had said, it wouldn’t be Christmas without carols.
Something clicked in her mind, and she frowned. There it was again. That odd sensation. Something Sir Walter had said… She caught her breath. Surely not. She struggled with her thoughts for several minutes, while the singing rose and fell all around her. Of course. Now it all made sense. All she had to do was find the proof.
The platform was deserted when Gertie arrived at the train station. Although the wind had turned even colder, and flakes of snow drifted sideways across the tracks, Gertie was warm with excitement.
She’d intended to have one of the footmen fetch the twins in a carriage, but Dan had insisted on driving her to the station. The twins would be thrilled to have a ride in the motorcar. She hugged herself as she gazed along the empty tracks into the darkness. She couldn’t wait to see them.
“It should be here any minute,” Dan said, glancing up at the large clock swinging above his head.
As if to confirm his comment, the station master appeared, a large oil lamp swinging in his hand. He walked to the end of the platform and put the lamp down at his feet.
In the distance Gertie heard a faint whistle. Grabbing Dan’s sleeve, she gave it a tug. “They’re coming!”
Dan laughed, and put an arm around her. “All this excitement just to see the twins come home! Just wait until we all move up to London. You’ll be so excited then you’ll forget how to talk.”
A sharp stab of cold shot through Gertie’s stomach. How could she have forgotten what it would mean to marry this man?
She would have to leave Badgers End again, and everyone she knew and loved at the Pennyfoot.
She couldn’t seem to breathe, and her vision blurred, so that the oncoming train seemed to fade into the cloud of steam. She could hear the clatter of the wheels now, and the whistle, much louder, shattering in her ears. Not now, she told herself, pushing away the fear. Don’t think about it now. Just enjoy the twins’ homecoming. Worry about it all later.
The engine roared into the station, then screeched and rattled to a stop. Steam hissed from the chimney, and Gertie wrinkled her nose as the musty coal fumes filled her lungs.
Only three of the train’s doors opened, spilling out its passengers. At the far end of the train, Gertie saw two small figures jumping down the steps and onto the platform. “There they are!” Without waiting for Dan, she flew toward the twins, arms outstretched.
Lillian was the first to see her. Her scream echoed all the way down the platform. She rushed forward, followed closely by James, while Daisy, dragging a large portmanteau behind her, brought up the rear.
Gertie stooped to hug the twins, who smothered her with kisses. By the time she had untangled herself from their arms, Dan had taken the bag from Daisy and was walking her back to the motorcar.
James talked nonstop, his tongue tripping over the words in his excitement. Lillian tried to get a word in now and then, but with all the jumping up and down she was doing she had no breath to compete with her brother.
Basking in the warmth of their affection, Gertie forgot all about her troubles with Dan. It was Christmas Eve, and her twins were home. That was all that mattered for now.
Cecily found it hard to concentrate on the carol singers. She had one eye on the clock, wondering how soon she could leave without attracting attention. The schoolgirls came to the end of their rendition, and polite applause followed. Phoebe signaled the quartet and they began to play “We Three Kings.”
Some of the guests got up to stand around the Christmas tree, while others moved closer to the piano. Voices began singing a hesitant chorus of the carol, somewhat out of tune and unusually sedate.
No doubt the news of the recent murders had dampened their spirits. She would have to think of something to lighten the mood.
This was the one night of the year when the staff was invited to join the guests in the singing, though few of them took advantage of the offer.
Cecily noticed Clive standing over by the window, and Mrs. Chubb next to him. Neither Pansy nor Gertie were visible, much to Cecily’s surprise. Gertie always enjoyed the ceremony, and she was supposed to bring the twins. Cecily was really looking forward to seeing her godchildren, and although Baxter would be the last one to admit it, she knew he was anxious to see them as well.
Deciding that perhaps the train was late, Cecily looked around for her husband. Baxter was standing near the door, talking to one of the guests. She was rather hoping to slip away for a few minutes and return before he noticed her absence.
“Cecily! Why aren’t you singing?”
Startled, Cecily turned to find Phoebe staring at her with an offended look on her face. “I was singing,” she said, ste
ering Phoebe away from a couple of guests. “I simply forgot the words, that’s all. I’m afraid this isn’t one of my favorite carols.”
“Well then, what is your favorite carol? I’ll have the musicians play it for you.”
Cecily shook her head. “Really, Phoebe, there’s no need. Actually I like all the carols. I just know some better than others. I will sing the next one, I promise.”
Looking only slightly appeased, Phoebe cast a stern glance around the room. “Really, I don’t know what’s the matter with these people tonight. No one seems to want to sing. By the way, where are Madeline and the good doctor? I thought they were coming tonight.”
“Madeline decided to take little Angelina home. The poor little thing has had quite enough excitement for one day.”
Phoebe nodded, sending wisps of ostrich feathers floating to the floor. “She has, indeed. Dreadful children to do such a thing.” She glared in the direction of the Millshires, who were singing with obvious reluctance. “They are little savages, those two. I had to chase them out of here this afternoon. They were trying to crawl under the branches of the Christmas tree. Can you imagine? All those glass balls rattling back and forth. I was quite sure they would all be broken.” She fanned her face with her gloved hand. “Thank goodness they didn’t bring the little monsters-”
She broke off with a gasp of horror. “Goodness, there’s Frederick. I told him to stay in the bar. Once he starts drinking he thinks he’s the world’s greatest tenor. I’d better get over there before he starts tormenting everyone’s eardrums.” She darted off toward the door, where the colonel was apparently regaling his captive audience with his war stories.
Cecily was pleased to see that Baxter had made his escape and was now over by the fireplace, talking to a seemingly enchanted young lady hanging onto his every word. Deciding that this was a good time to disappear for a while, she edged over to the door, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Across the room, Lady Esmeralda was in an animated discussion with another woman, while her husband gazed around the room with a bored expression. For an instant his gaze met hers; then, as if unaware of the contact, he turned away.
Cecily drew a deep breath, opened the door, and slipped outside into the hallway.
CHAPTER 20
Gertie had no chance to speak to Dan on the way home from the station. The twins, bursting with excitement, bombarded her with questions about Father Christmas and the carol singing ceremony, and Daisy, when she could get a word in, filled Gertie in on everything they’d seen and done while in London.
Dan sat behind the wheel of his motorcar and didn’t say a word while he drove back to the Pennyfoot. Seated next to him in the front seat, Gertie gave short answers to the twins, and paid scant attention to Daisy’s long-winded accounts.
Her mind kept going back to Dan’s proposal and what it would mean to them all. What would happen to Daisy? Would she be able to come with them? How would the twins feel about having a new nanny at this stage in their lives?
How would they adapt to living in the city, going to a new school, having to make new friends? They were bound to miss the Pennyfoot, and the people they had come to know as family. Though probably not half as much as she would.
“Mama! Mama! You’re not listening to me!”
Gertie jumped, staring back at the small face glaring at her. “I’m sorry, James, I was thinking of something else.”
“Well, I want to know if Father Christmas is going to bring me a puppy.”
Gertie sighed. James had been asking for a puppy for the past three years. Each time she’d had to tell him they couldn’t keep a puppy in the hotel. “I’m sorry, James, I don’t think Father Christmas can bring puppies.”
“Why not?”
“Because he can’t carry them on his sled. They’d fall right off.”
“They can’t go down the chimney, neither, silly,” Lillian piped up.
James sounded close to tears. “But I want one.”
Gertie rolled her eyes. She’d been through this argument before, and knew it would be a long, drawn-out battle. Then she had an idea. “Well, I have some news for you. Samuel has a dog now. Her name is Tess and she lives in the stables. If you ask him, I’m sure he’ll let you play with her sometimes.”
James sat up. “Really? Is she a big dog?”
“Really big. You’ll both love her.”
Both twins let out squeals of excitement. Gertie felt Lillian’s hand creep into hers. “Mama? This is going to be the best Christmas ever! I’m so happy we live in the Pennyfoot, aren’t you?”
Gertie swallowed hard. “Very.” She turned her head to watch the gas lamps flash by as they turned onto the Esplanade.
Beyond them she could just see the glow of golden sand before it disappeared into the shadows.
It was too dark to see the ocean, but she knew it was there, washing ashore. Once she left Badgers End, there’d be no more walks along the Esplanade, no more donkey rides along the sands, no more watching the twins laughing at Punch and Judy, no more band concerts to listen to, no more Pennyfoot. She and the twins would be giving up a lot to marry Dan and live with him in London.
She jerked forward as the motorcar came to a halt. “We’re home!” the twins shouted, and waited impatiently for Daisy to get out so they could scramble out after her.
Gertie leaned out the door. “Daisy, take the children inside and get them dressed for the carol singing. I’ve laid out their clothes. I’ll be there in just a minute or two.”
Daisy nodded, grasped the twins’ hands, and led them up the front steps of the club.
Dan switched off the engine and turned to open the door.
“Wait!” Gertie closed the door, then tugged at the collar of her coat and unfastened the top button. She felt hot and cold all at the same time. “I have to talk to you,” she said, “before we go in there.”
He must have heard something in her voice, because he gave her a long look before answering. “All right. What’s this all about?”
She took a deep breath but it didn’t seem to help. Her chest hurt, and an ache cut her so deep she hugged her stomach.
“It’s about you and me.”
His face was shadowed, with just enough light from the gas lamps to see his set expression. “What about you and me?”
She looked away, because it hurt too much to look at him. Her voice trembled so badly she could hardly get out the words. “I can’t marry you.”
She heard his sharp intake of breath and squeezed her eyes shut tight so she wouldn’t cry.
“Why not? I thought that was what you wanted.”
“I did.” She gulped. “I do. But I can’t drag my children away from their home and everyone they know.”
“Children that age are adaptable. They’ll soon forget all about this place once they settle down. There is so much more to do in the city. Visits to the park and the zoo, boat rides on the Thames, museums and historical places to explore. They will love it there.”
“But it won’t be home. They’ve just spent a week or so in London, and look how excited they were to be home. They’ll miss the people, and the life here. They’ll be miserable and lonely in the city.”
He was silent so long she was afraid he was never going to answer her. Just when the silence became unbearable, he spoke.
“What you really mean is that you don’t want to leave here and move to London.”
She thought about it for several seconds, then sighed. “Yes, I suppose that’s what I mean.”
“I’m sorry, Gertie. I wish I could tell you I’d stay here, but I can’t. My life is in the city. That’s where I belong.”
She hadn’t realized how much she’d been nursing that small hope. “I understand, Dan. I really do. That’s why I can’t marry you.”
She stole a look at him. He sat staring straight ahead, and she couldn’t see his expression, but she could guess from the set of his shoulders.
When he spoke again, hi
s voice was gruff. “Very well. Then I suppose this is good-bye.”
The pain cut deeper and she blinked. Hard. “Good-bye, Dan. I wish you lots of luck in London.”
He nodded. “You, too.”
She turned quickly and scrambled out. She didn’t wait for him to crank the engine and leave. Without looking back she fled around the corner and into the kitchen yard.
Shutting the gate behind her, she leaned against it, listening to the engine turn over until at last it caught and roared to life.
His motorcar door slammed, and it was like a door slamming on her life. She’d turned down the chance of a future with a man she’d loved with all her heart. Probably the last chance she’d ever have of marriage and a home of her own. Perhaps tomorrow she’d feel better about it. Perhaps tomorrow she’d know she’d made the right decision.
Right now, however, it felt as if she was the biggest fool on earth. And still she didn’t cry.
The quartet began playing the opening chords of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” as Cecily quietly closed the library door. She could hear Colonel Fortescue’s voice booming out above the rest. Apparently the deaths of four people had little effect on him. Phoebe, no doubt, was at this very moment doing her best to shut him up.
Cecily hurried along the corridor until she reached her office. Once inside, she felt for the matches on her desk and quickly lit the oil lamp. The photographs were where she’d left them, and she picked them up, thumbing through them until she found the one she wanted.
Now she was convinced she knew who had killed Ellie Tidwell and most likely the other three victims. As for the motive, she could only guess right now. What she needed was proof, and there was only one way to get that.
To do so meant being elsewhere far longer than was prudent. Baxter, at least, was bound to notice her absence, but that couldn’t be helped. He would understand if she found what she expected to find. Wasting no more time, she dropped the photographs back onto her desk, picked up her oil lamp, and left the room.
She encountered no one on her way upstairs, and reached Sir Walter Hayesbury’s suite without being seen. It took only a moment to unlock the door with her master key, and slip inside the room.
Mistletoe and Mayhem Page 21
