Mistletoe and Mayhem Page 6

  “There you are, my dear.” The young man’s voice carried across the room. “Didn’t I tell you no one would think anything of it?”

  Pansy put the vase down on the polished surface of the piano. It looked really nice with its colorful sprays of blossoms. She turned back to the Danvilles.

  The gentleman stood smiling at her, while his bride hid her face behind his shoulder. Pansy thought the young girl was really silly. If she, Pansy, was being kissed by her husband she wouldn’t care who saw her.

  She skipped down the steps and past the couple, her heart giving a little jump when Mr. Danville gave her a knowing wink. She grinned in answer, and darted from the room, practicing how she would tell Gertie about her encounter.

  She found her friend in the dining room, setting new candles in the candlesticks. “Where have you been?” Gertie demanded, the moment she set eyes on her. “I’ve been waiting for you to help me in here.”

  “Mrs. Chubb asked me to take the flowers into the ballroom.” She let out a giggle. “You’ll never guess what I saw.”

  “Madam was dancing with Clive.”

  Pansy stared at her. “What?”

  Gertie shook her head. “I was teasing, that’s all. What did you see, then?”

  Still confused, Pansy told her about the honeymoon couple. “Mr. Danville winked at me when I came out of there,” she said, smiling at the memory. “I do wish Samuel had been there to see it.”

  Gertie laughed. “You don’t really think that would make him jealous?”

  Pansy tossed her head. “Maybe not, but I know what would. Lenny asked me out and I’m going, too.”

  Now it was Gertie’s turn to stare. “Who the hell is Lenny, then?”

  “He’s the lad that works on the roof with that big Irishman.”

  “Mick Docker? Saucy blighter he is and all. Mrs. Chubb said he was whistling at the maids all day.”

  Pansy thought it better not to mention that Lenny had whistled at her. “Well, anyway, Lenny asked when my afternoon off was and I told him it was tomorrow so I’m meeting him by the gate and we’re going for a walk.”

  Gertie pursed her lips. “So what if he gets fresh with you?”

  “Fresh?”

  “You know, what if he tries to take advantage of you. What’re you going to do then?”

  Pansy laughed. “I’m only going for a walk with him, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t let him lure you into the woods. There’s all sorts of horrible things he could do if he got you in the woods.”

  Pansy didn’t like the sound of that but she wasn’t about to let Gertie know she was upsetting her. “You’re teasing again,” she said, without too much confidence. “It’s too cold to walk in the woods, anyhow.”

  “You’d go walking in the woods with Samuel, though, wouldn’t you?”

  “Samuel wouldn’t ask me.”

  “Well, if he did.”

  “I dunno.”

  “You’d be daft not to go with him.” Gertie turned back to the table and set another candle in its stick. “If you want a man you have to grab every opportunity he gives you.”

  Pansy shivered. She’d be only too happy to do anything Samuel asked, but she wasn’t so sure about Lenny. Maybe she’d made a mistake promising to meet him after all. Then again, she didn’t exactly promise. All she’d done was nod her head. That could have meant anything.

  She had no time to dwell on the problem, however. Gertie thrust a bundle of candles into her hands. “Here, finish these for me. I have to get ready to meet Dan. We’re going for a walk on the pier this afternoon and I have to put more pins in my hair or it’ll blow all over the blinking place.”

  “Isn’t it a bit cold to go walking on the pier?”

  “Nah.” Gertie headed for the door, throwing words over her shoulder. “I’ll have Dan to keep me warm, won’t I.” Laughing, she disappeared into the hallway outside.

  Sighing, Pansy stuck a candle into the silver candlestick. It would be so nice to have someone to keep her warm. Especially if it was Samuel. At least that giddy Ellie wasn’t there to get in the way.

  Pansy felt a stab of guilt. Ellie was missing, possibly hurt or worse. She felt sorry for that, but part of her hoped that Ellie never came back. She had enough trouble keeping Samuel’s interest without some frivolous little twerp grabbing his attention. No, it would be a lot better for all of them if Ellie Tidwell never came back to the Pennyfoot ever again.

  Samuel was waiting in the carriage right in front of the main entrance when Cecily hurried down the steps a while later.

  Shivering as the wind nipped her nose, she waited for him to open the door, then clambered up onto the seat and sank back against the creaking leather.

  The cold seeped through her thick woolen coat and every layer of clothing underneath. Wishing she’d brought her shawl for extra warmth, she glanced out of the window as the carriage jerked forward.

  The gray ocean churned up white foam on the waves racing to shore. That meant an east wind, which could bring a cold snap to the southeast coast. Cecily tugged her collar closer to her throat. They would have to stoke up the fires in the bedrooms, as well as the library, dining room, and the bar. The ballroom had no fireplace, but usually there were enough people dancing to keep everyone warm enough.

  Thank goodness they’d just had the coal shed filled up. They would need lots of it to keep all those fires going. Thinking about the coal shed reminded Cecily of her meeting with Stan Whittle, the coal man. He’d been in a dreadful hurry, and had become quite impatient with her while she was preparing his payment envelope. She never had liked the man, but his rudeness yesterday had been inexcusable.

  The attitude of workmen lately was quite deplorable. It upset her no end to have to accommodate them. In the old days, when she owned the Pennyfoot, Baxter served as the manager and dealt with all the tradespeople that came to the hotel. Now she was forced into that unenviable position and it didn’t sit well with her at all.

  The carriage jerked, sending her forward and jolting her out of her thoughts. She heard Samuel shout out something as the carriage lurched to a halt, then the horse’s hooves clicked on the pavement again and once more they sailed smoothly on their way.

  Another of those dratted motorcars, Cecily thought, as she caught sight of the gleaming white machine trundling past her window. All that banging and smoking, and they were constantly breaking down. They caused more problems on the road than any skittish horse might. That was the price they paid for progress.

  Ellie’s house lay just on the edge of town, for which Cecily was most thankful. Badgers End was little more than a village, but at this time of year the High Street resembled one of the busy shopping streets in nearby Wellercombe. It would take forever to get the carriage through a crowd of determined pedestrians, intent on getting their Christmas shopping done before the shops closed.

  Cecily peered out the window as the carriage jerked to a stop. They had pulled up outside a small white gate and fenced front garden with neatly trimmed hedges and wellpruned fruit trees. The carriage door opened and Samuel offered her a hand as she prepared to climb down.

  Catching sight of a black smear on his coat, she frowned. “You must ask Mrs. Chubb to remove that stain, Samuel. It looks most unsightly.”

  Samuel rubbed a hand across his chest, smearing the smudge even more. “Sorry, m’m. I didn’t notice it until I was sitting waiting for you in the carriage. Didn’t have time to change it, did I. I’d been cleaning out one of the motorcars. It was covered in dirt and I must have rubbed my hand across me like this.”

  He dragged his fingers across his chest again and Cecily uttered a cry of protest. “You’re just making things worse, Samuel. Do try not to touch it again until you can give it to Mrs. Chubb to clean.”

  “Yes, m’m. Sorry, m’m.” Looking contrite, Samuel helped her to the ground. “If you’ve got a minute, m’m, I’d like to ask you something.”

  Impatient to talk to Ellie’s
mother, Cecily gave him a quick nod. “Very well, but do hurry. I’m catching cold standing out here.”

  “Yes, m’m.” Samuel pulled off his cap and started rolling it up in his hands. “Well, it’s like this. I found this stray dog. It’s been lurking around the stables, looking for food, I reckon.”

  “Oh, Samuel.” Cecily shook her head. “I do hope you didn’t feed it. We’ll never be rid of it if you did.”

  Samuel looked down at his feet. “Well, yes, m’m, I did.” He looked up again, his eyes wide and pleading. “She’s a really good dog, m’m. Doesn’t cause no trouble, comes when I call, and she’s caught three rats since she’s been around. I thought, since we’ve had trouble with rats in the past, that I might keep her around, m’m, just to help out, like. If that’s all right with you?”

  Cecily puffed out her breath. In her opinion, horses and motorcars didn’t mix well with dogs, and she would never allow one inside the Pennyfoot. Samuel, however, was not only a trusted employee, he was just as much a part of her family as the rest of her staff. Those beseeching eyes were simply too hard to ignore.

  “Very well.” She held up her hand as Samuel gushed his thanks. “Just remember, you are responsible for the animal. One hint of trouble with her and out she goes.”

  “Yes, m’m. There won’t be no trouble, I swear. I’ll take really good care of her. Just wait until you meet her, m’m. She’s really lovable and cuddly. You’ll love her to death, I know.”

  Cecily hid a smile. It was unusual for Samuel to be so forthcoming. He was a somewhat serious young man, always sticking strictly to protocol. Whenever she wanted to know what he was thinking it took considerable effort on her part to drag it out of him.

  To see him so enthused and excited gladdened her heart, and she looked forward to meeting the creature that had inspired her stable manager to such eager anticipation. “Well now,” she said briskly, “I must talk to Mrs. Tidwell. You are welcome to come inside with me, if you like.”

  He donned his cap and touched his forehead. “Thank you, m’m, but I’d prefer to wait out here if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Of course. Whatever you wish.” She left him then, and walked up the narrow gravel path to the porch. Empty plant pots sat on either side, waiting for the spring so they could be filled again with gorgeous blossoms. Cecily looked forward to that time. How she disliked the winter, with its dreary skies and chilly winds.

  She disliked even more having to face the mother of a missing child. She could only hope that Mrs. Tidwell would be able to tell her something that would help find Ellie. Lifting her hand, she rapped on the door.

  CHAPTER 6

  The door opened moments later, emitting the heavenly fragrance of freshly baked bread. Having eaten hours earlier, Cecily hungered for a thick slice of buttered toast.

  The woman who stood framed in the doorway wore an anxious frown. A white cap was perched on her graying curls, and wrapped around her waist was a threadbare apron covered in flour. Her fingers were covered in the white stuff as she lifted a hand to her face, leaving a powdery streak across her cheek.

  “Mrs. Baxter! How good of you to call! Is it Ellie? Have you found my daughter?”

  Cecily thrust out her hand to lay it on the woman’s slender arm. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Tidwell. Actually, I was hoping you’d have word of her for me.”

  The woman’s face crumpled. “I wish I did, m’m. I can’t think where she’d be.” As if remembering her manners, she drew back. “Please, do come in.”

  “Well, just for a moment.” Cecily stepped inside the cozy cottage, where the aroma of the baking bread was even more enticing.

  Mrs. Tidwell motioned her to a seat on the chintz-covered sofa. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  Cecily was about to politely refuse when the other woman added, “Perhaps a slice of bread and jam? I’ve just baked a loaf of bread. I always bake when I’m worried. Gives me something else to think about, it does.”

  Cecily almost smacked her lips. “Well, if you insist. That sounds wonderful.” She took a moment to look around as Ellie’s mother hurried off to the kitchen.

  It was a pleasant room, small but comfortable, with bright flowered curtains at the windows and a soft green carpet under her feet. An oil lamp had been lit to ward off the early winter dusk, and hot coals glowed a dark red in the fireplace.

  In one corner shelves had been crammed with books, and unable to resist, Cecily got up to scan the titles. She was still studying them when Mrs. Tidwell returned with a loaded tray.

  “I see you enjoy reading,” Cecily commented, as she returned to her seat. “I notice you have the latest book by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”

  “Yes, The Return of Sherlock Holmes. I do so love his books.” She put the tray down on a table beside Cecily and began pouring the tea. “My favorite, of course, is The Hound of the Baskervilles. I read every episode in the Strand.”

  “As did I.” Cecily took the cup and saucer from her. “I’ve read everything that man has written. He is my favorite author. Such a talent.”

  “Indeed.” Mrs. Tidwell offered her a plate with two slices of buttered bread smothered in thick strawberry jam.

  Cecily hastily put down her tea and took the plate. “This looks delicious. Thank you.”

  Nodding, Ellie’s mother sank on a chair across the room. “Mrs. Baxter, do you have any idea at all as to what might have happened to my daughter?”

  Cecily paused, the delectable treat halfway to her mouth. “I wish I did. I’m afraid no one has seen Ellie since she left the Pennyfoot last night.” She took a dainty bite, feeling guilty for enjoying the morsel. “Does she perhaps have friends she might be visiting?”

  “None that I know of.” Mrs. Tidwell rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “Ellie has changed, though, since she went to work in London. I never thought she’d go. She wasn’t the sort of girl who would act on impulse, but after the problem she had with Mr. Docker, she seemed almost desperate to leave Badgers End.”

  Cecily swallowed her mouthful of bread a little too fast. Coughing, she sought her handkerchief tucked in her sleeve and drew it out to blow her nose. “Please excuse me,” she muttered, a little hoarsely, “but you did say Mr. Docker, didn’t you? Is that, by any chance, Mick Docker, the roofer?”

  Mrs. Tidwell nodded. “The big Irishman. He was sweet on my Ellie. She met him two years ago, and he kept pestering her to go out with him, but she kept putting him off. He’d been married before, you see. Lost his wife when she caught a cold and it went into pneumonia. Ellie said as how she didn’t wanted secondhand goods. Besides, he was much too old for her.”

  Still trying to clear her throat, Cecily nodded.

  “Anyway,” Mrs. Tidwell continued, “she finally got up the courage to tell him how she felt. Well, he must have flown into a rage or something. She wouldn’t talk about it but I could tell she was worried about it. Right after that she told me she’d got a job as scullery maid at Rosewood Manor in London.”

  “I see.” Cecily put down her plate. “Has she had any dealings with Mr. Docker since she’s been back?”

  “I really couldn’t say. Our Ellie doesn’t tell me much these days. I do know she wasn’t happy in the city. She was only there a few months before she came back. I think that serial killer really frightened her. It was in the same district where she lived that they found the bodies of those poor young girls.” Mrs. Tidwell shook her head. “I know she was troubled about something, but she won’t talk to me about it. Got really secretive, she has.”

  “I understand your son is searching for her.”

  “Yes, he is. He’s got some of his friends helping him and all, so I’m hoping they find her soon. It’s not like her to stay out all night without telling me where she is.”

  She paused, as if remembering something. “Though, I have to say, she did it once before. Last summer, it was. Worried me sick. I thought something terrible had happened to her, but she turned up the next morning right as
rain. She said she spent the night on the beach. Told me she didn’t feel like coming home. I could tell something had upset her then, but she wouldn’t say what it was.”

  Cecily finished the last piece of her bread and jam, then reached for her tea. “It’s a little cold to be staying out on the beach this time of year.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m hoping she found somewhere warm to stay, though why she feels she can’t come home and tell me about things, I really don’t know.”

  Having drained her cup, Cecily rose. “Well, these young girls are hard to understand sometimes. I do hope you find Ellie soon. Please tell her that we miss her at the Pennyfoot, and look forward to her return.”

  “I will do that, Mrs. Baxter. Thank you.” Mrs. Tidwell got to her feet, her face lined with worry.

  Having said her good-byes, Cecily headed down the path to where Samuel waited in the carriage. She still felt guilty for enjoying the woman’s hospitality when she was so obviously worried about her daughter.

  Riding back along the Esplanade, however, Cecily managed to convince herself that the visit had relieved her mind to a degree. According to her mother, it wasn’t the first time Ellie had stayed out all night, though the news had surprised Cecily. She hadn’t thought the timid maid would have that much gumption. Apparently she had misjudged her newest employee.

  Nevertheless, the news had raised her hopes that Ellie had merely been vexed over something and had sought refuge elsewhere to soothe her injured feelings. If so, she could stop worrying about the maid and concentrate on finding out who had caused Charlie’s death.

  She frowned, reminded of her conversation with Mick Docker earlier. She’d had no idea he was that well acquainted with Ellie. As far as she could remember, he had said nothing to indicate he knew of her disappearance. Nor if, indeed, he’d had any contact with her. Nevertheless, perhaps she should talk to him again.