Dressed for Death

by Julianna Deering

  Tal looked down at the stream and nodded. “I haven’t seen it like this before. I haven’t been up here in some while, I’ll admit.”

  “Perhaps we’d best go on back,” Broadhurst suggested. “It’s likely nothing.”

  Drew cupped his hand, dipped it into the water, and brought it to his mouth. It tasted clean and fresh enough. Still, he walked upstream a few yards, just to have another look. The white residue was there as well, at least until he reached a little clump of trees that shaded the stream. Above that, there was nothing to mark the passage of the water but some mossy stones.

  “I think it’s a bit clearer up here.” Drew filled the bottles and walked back downstream. “I thought it might taste of alkaline or something.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything like that round here,” Tal said.

  “Something left those marks.”

  Tal frowned as he studied the waterline. “It could be something leeching into the water from a deposit in the stream bed or along the bank.”

  “Most likely,” Broadhurst said. “But maybe you’d best dump that out. Better safe than sorry, eh?”

  Drew shook his head. “I tasted it. Sweet and clear.”

  Broadhurst looked uncertain while Tal filled his own bottles, and then the three of them carried the water back to the others. Soon there were a number of cool, wet handkerchiefs being applied to warm brows and wrists.

  Alice stretched languidly and leaned against Tal’s shoulder. “Must we go in?”

  He laughed. “I thought you wanted to.”

  “It’s turned cooler now,” she said, “and I’m too lazy to walk back.”

  “I’ll carry you.”

  He leapt to his feet and scooped her into his arms, making her squeal and kick over the last of the water, which spilled onto Carrie’s shoe.

  “I’m terribly sorry.” Tal put Alice down and knelt in front of Carrie with his handkerchief. He shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s rather too wet to be of much use.”

  The vicar immediately reached into his own pocket. “Allow me.” He pulled out his handkerchief, and a small, square packet tumbled into the grass at his feet.

  Drew bent to retrieve it for him, but Broadhurst scrambled to grab it first, his face reddening as he stuffed it back into his pocket. “Clumsy of me.” He pressed the handkerchief into Carrie’s hand. “I hope you aren’t too wet.”

  “No, not at all,” Carrie said, looking puzzled at the quizzical glance Drew and Nick exchanged.

  Will had been sprawled on the blanket beside his sister, but he sat up, narrowing his eyes at the vicar. “Where were you on Tuesday night?”

  “What?” Broadhurst blinked, then grinned faintly, obviously recalling the response Madeline had told him to give. “I was ministering,” he said with a pious look toward heaven, “to the sick and poor in spirit.”

  “Then what are those pearls doing in that box in your pocket?”

  “Sorry, Will, but they’d never fit in such a small box.” Broadhurst dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “And if I did steal them, I’d hide them someplace a bit less obvious.”

  “And no fair guessing with nothing to go on, Billy,” Madeline scolded lightly.

  “It’s not a guess,” Will protested. “It’s deduction. He had motive, means, and opportunity. Anybody who has all three of those is a suspect in anybody’s book. Besides, I saw him creeping around in the back garden yesterday.”

  “Creeping?” The vicar made a comic show of hemming and hawing. “Merely taking the air, young man, that’s all.”

  “I’m still not satisfied with your explanation for the shortfall in the church poor box,” Drew told him, “but we can discuss that when we’re back at the house.”

  “I’m not sure about that one, either.” Will fished a well-worn piece of paper out of his pocket and studied it for a moment. “Hmm, this says the earl’s son has gambling debts he must pay before the local crime syndicate makes an example of him. Sounds like somebody who needs money fast. Hey, Tal!”

  The vicar chuckled as Tal began protesting his innocence and Carrie playfully squabbled with her brother. “Will’s rather keen on mysteries, isn’t he?”

  Madeline shook her head. “I think my husband’s created a monster.”

  “Not I, madam,” Drew said. “I am only trying to keep the boy amused long enough to let you play Cupid.”

  “Well, you’re certainly not making any progress finding my pearls. And you a detective.”

  He scowled at her. “I’m working on it.”

  “Ah,” Broadhurst said. “So the matchmaking is your doing, is it?”

  There was a sudden mischievousness in Madeline’s expression. “Carrie and Nick just needed a little nudge.”

  “Meddler,” Drew muttered.

  “Take it from me,” said the vicar. “Nudging works only when both parties want to be nudged.”

  “They were already hurtling toward each other at full speed anyway,” Drew said.

  Madeline shook one finger at him. “And they might have hurtled right past each other if someone hadn’t stepped in.”

  “Don’t you know the dangers of matchmaking?” Drew gave her a warning look. “Didn’t you read Emma?”

  Broadhurst sighed. “I have continually brought just that volume to my mother’s attention. She tells me it all worked out in the end.”

  Madeline wrinkled her nose at her husband. “See?”

  “All I see,” Tal said, pulling Alice to his side, “is that it’s time the lot of us went back in.”

  A flicker of worry passed through the girl’s large eyes, but then she smiled and, her fingers twined in his, walked with him back to Winteroak House.

  It was definitely worth wearing fussy cravats and shoes that pinch, so long as Madeline was having a good time, but Drew was glad when Saturday came. The day was warm and sunny, and Mrs. Cummins served luncheon out on the lawn. Afterward, hardly anyone seemed inclined to move away from the pleasant venue. A number of foursomes gathered to play cards. While Will did his best to pin down suspects in the pearls mystery, Nick and Carrie slipped over to the gazebo in the middle of the luscious rose garden and curled up in the swing. Drew knew better than to intrude on them even to ask if they knew where Madeline had gone, but he was happy to see Tal coming his way.

  “I say, Tal—”

  “Have you seen Alice?”

  “No.” Drew shaded his eyes, looking out toward the water. “I was just going to ask if you’d seen Madeline. She hasn’t played fair with the clues about the pearls, I’m sure of it.”

  Tal grinned. “Just because you haven’t figured it out yet, eh? Well, I saw her in the house just a bit ago. She said to tell you she’d be right out.”

  “Right. Thanks. I’ll just—”

  “Tal! Tal!”

  Drew and Tal both looked up to see a group of bright-eyed girls, all in fresh muslin gowns, standing on the other side of the hedge.

  “Tal!” Alice called again, waving a gloved hand. “We’re going to play croquet. Won’t you both join us?”

  “Coming.” Tal turned to Drew, lowering his voice. “She wouldn’t crack a smile this morning, and now she’s in one of her top-of-the-world moods. I suppose I should just do as you say. Admire and enjoy.”

  “Best for now, I’d say. Only we can’t play croquet for another thirty years or so. I believe it wasn’t properly invented yet. We’d better call it pall-mall. It’s practically the same.”

  “I’ll tell everyone,” Tal said. “Just in case my dad’s listening in.”

  It seemed that Alice had summoned nearly everyone to join the game or at least watch. Mrs. Cummins brought out lemonade and some excellent little cakes, and the afternoon passed pleasantly enough. Drew couldn’t help keeping an eye on Alice as she played. She did seem rather excitable, but he didn’t know her well enough to know if that was out of the ordinary for her. Even taking Tal’s word that it was, she seemed no more than bright and vivacious. Her two friends, Georgie
and Violet, on the other hand, did make him wonder.

  They played enthusiastically, if badly, and it took nothing to make either of them laugh uproariously. They flirted with every unattached man present, a few attached ones, and even poor, flustered Will. He brushed them aside, though, clearly more interested in keeping an eye on his sister anytime she and Nick were within fifty feet of each other.

  The day grew warmer, and several of the men shed their coats. Old Ploughwright had removed both coat and waistcoat and still sat mopping his red face in the shade of an oak tree. Miss Dornford had given up on attracting Will’s attention and was comforting herself with an overindulgence in cake.

  Cummins sat talking to the vicar under the striped awning that shaded part of the terrace. Laurent, evidently having just risen, joined them, a glass of tomato juice in hand. They made an interesting trio, and Drew took a seat beside them.

  “I’m not intruding, am I?”

  “Not at all,” Cummins said. “Just chatting. The padre’s collecting again for the needy.”

  “The same cause Mrs. Cummins collects for?”

  “That’s right. The old girl likes to feel useful.”

  Drew helped himself to a macaroon. “I hear you like to lend a hand, as well.”

  “Ah, well,” Cummins sputtered. “When I can. Not that I have much time for it, you know, but when I can.”

  “And the vicar here distributes it all to the local needy?”

  “Only part of it.” Broadhurst leaned forward, a light of eagerness in his eyes. “The Good Book says we should ‘preach the gospel in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth.’ I take that to mean we have responsibility to our neighbors and to the world at large, not neglecting either for the other. Not that we’ve reached those remotest parts yet, but we do send much of what we collect up to London.”

  “You get in that much?” Drew asked. “I’m impressed.”

  “Oh, not just from little Armitage Landing, of course,” the vicar said. “We have several of our ladies up and down the coast who gather donations in their own villages and package them up for us to distribute. Money when we can get it, but more often foodstuffs, castoff clothing, and household goods. Some of the ladies make some items themselves such as baby clothes, knitted jumpers, that sort of thing.”

  “You might be interested in helping out, Drew,” Cummins suggested.

  Broadhurst looked a bit flustered. “Well, we’re all off duty here, you know. I’d hate to bother any of your guests—”

  “No, he’s quite right,” Drew said. “It’s a worthy cause. It’s rather a balance helping close to home and farther away, isn’t it? I like that you’re doing both. Remind me before the party is over and I’ll send you a check.”

  “Very generous of you, Drew, I’m sure.”

  “Not at all. I’m rather outrageously blessed. No good keeping it all to myself, eh?”

  Broadhurst chuckled. “I wish all of my appeals were so fruitful and with so little effort on my part.”

  “You might speak to Mrs. Farthering about it, as well,” Drew suggested. “If I can manage to keep out of trouble for more than six months at a go, I imagine she’ll want something worthwhile to do with her time.”

  “We’d certainly appreciate the help,” Broadhurst said.

  “And very charming help it would be, too,” Laurent said, making a tomato juice toast as Madeline came out of the house and sat down beside Drew.

  “Hullo, darling. I’ve just pledged you to help Mr. Broadhurst with his charity.”

  “Oh, may I?” she asked the vicar, her eyes eager. “I don’t know if I’ll be as good at it as Mrs. Cummins, but I’d love to help.”

  “Excellent,” Broadhurst said. “Once you’ve gotten a chance to get settled back at home, I’ll be in touch. We can sort out what you can do to help in your neck of the woods.”

  Whatever else he might have said was interrupted by a croquet ball rolling to a stop at his feet. Alice and her two friends hurried over to him.

  “Do be careful,” Tal said, giving the Marlow girl a disapproving glance.

  “Well, I didn’t hit it,” Violet said. “That’s Georgie’s ball, isn’t it?”

  Georgie laughed and swung wildly at it, sending it out of play and perilously close to Mr. Ploughwright’s head. He huffed and sputtered in protest.

  “Steady on there, young lady!”

  Georgie and Violet both shrieked with laughter, and Georgie scampered over to him and planted a smacking kiss on his bald pate, causing him to sputter more and Mrs. Ploughwright to look stern and purse her lips. Apparently both girls found this even more hysterical.

  “Oh, Georgie, really!” Alice said, giggling. “Come on now. It’s still your turn.”

  Tal came up beside her, taking her arm. “Perhaps we’ve had enough for a bit, darling,” he said, his voice low. “Isn’t it about time you ladies go in and start primping for tonight?”

  She set her mouth and lifted her chin. “I’m having fun. I thought that’s what all this was for—for us to have some fun before we have to go back to real life tomorrow.”

  “Alice—”

  Her chin quivered, and she pressed her fingers to her lips. Then she gave him a brittle smile. “You’re right. It really is getting late. I think I’ll start getting ready.” She nodded to the wide-eyed onlookers. “Excuse me.”

  She hurried across the lawn and into the house. Tal started to go after her, but Drew stopped him.

  “Give her a little while.”

  Tal looked as if he might protest, but instead he nodded and sat down again.

  “Alice,” Georgie whined, “you can’t quit now. We haven’t finished.”

  Violet beamed at her. “If she’s out, I win the game. Ha ha.”

  Georgie made a face at her and, with one fierce blow of her mallet, sent Violet’s ball sailing over the hedge and out of sight.

  “Georgie!”

  The two girls stalked off, squabbling furiously, and disappeared into the trees.

  “And so ends the match,” Laurent observed, downing the last of his tomato juice. “Quel dommage, but perhaps Mademoiselle Alice is correct. The hour grows late, and we must prepare for the evening’s festivities.”

  The vicar looked at his wristwatch and got to his feet. “I told Mother I would wake her from her nap when it was time to dress. I’d better see to it, if you will all excuse me.”

  “Perhaps it would be best if we all went in,” Cummins said, looking rather dismayed, and he too stood. “Ladies and gentlemen, you might all wish to go prepare for tonight’s ball. Our other guests will be arriving before long, and we want to be ready to greet them in grand style, eh?”

  People began strolling back into the house in little knots of two and three.

  Madeline took Drew’s arm and looked back toward the hedge where Violet and Georgie had gone. “Do you suppose they’re all right?”

  “I’m sure they’ll be in soon,” Drew said, starting them walking. “It’s a wonder nobody was knocked cold by one of them, though. Well, come along. Tonight’s our last night here. We might as well make it a memorable one.”

  Madeline shook her head once they were in the privacy of their room. “I don’t think there have been two such silly girls in England since Kitty and Lydia Bennet.”

  “In the world,” Drew corrected, “not just in England. I suppose I ought to be a little less easy to annoy, but I wish they’d just settle someplace and be still, even for just a minute. They were a bit wild this afternoon.”

  “A bit?” Madeline huffed. “I was in the powder room earlier, and the two of them were preening in front of the mirror. Giggling as usual of course. I came up next to them, wanting to make sure my hair was still pinned up right, and I noticed Violet had face powder on her nose. You know, not blended in or anything. When I told her, just so she wouldn’t be embarrassed to find out after she’d gone back to the party, she only sniffed at me. Not a dainty little snif
f of disdain, but a loud vulgar sniff. I’m sure she meant to be offensive. Then the two of them shrieked with laughter and dashed out.”

  She had thought he would laugh or say something pithy about silly females, including herself, but instead his relaxed expression tightened and there was no more tolerant amusement in his gray eyes.

  “Hmmm. Alice wasn’t with them, was she?”

  “No. Not while I was there. Why?”

  “I just hope, for her own sake and for Tal’s, she’s not as foolish as her friends.” He smiled abruptly and kissed her hand. “But I am blessed to have a level-headed and nonetheless charming wife who hardly ever makes a spectacle of herself at society parties.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “Hardly ever?”

  “I seem to recall a time, just a year ago today in fact, when you poured a glass of water down a gentleman’s quite admirable shirtfront during a very high-class gathering. I was shocked, I tell you. Shocked.”

  Her face turned hot, though she was smiling. “In the first place, he was no gentleman. In the second place, I did it only to keep you from punching him in the nose. And in the third place . . .” She paused and gave him a peck on the cheek. “In the third place, I didn’t think you’d remember.”

  He gave her that lazy grin she loved. “How could I forget the day I found the other half of my heart.” He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his side. “How could I resist someone so charming and respectable, with a little streak of wickedness hidden inside like nuts in a bonbon? No, don’t tell me it’s not there, but not to worry. It’ll be our secret.”

  She laughed and then sobered, remembering her talk with Alice on the Onde Blanc. “She’s going to hurt him.”

  Drew raised both eyebrows. “What?”

  “I never told you what Alice said when we were sailing the other day. While you were dozing. I didn’t think it was important, but now I’m wondering.”