Mistletoe and Mayhem Page 9

  “As a matter of fact,” Cecily murmured, “Madeline will be at the pantomime. She and Dr. Prestwick will be bringing little Angelina with them. I think they would both be quite disappointed to miss your performance.”

  “Oh!” Phoebe lifted her hands to straighten her hat. Having recovered from her surprise, she added, “Well, it is the highlight of the season, after all. I shall look forward to seeing the baby.”

  She went on prattling, but Cecily wasn’t listening. She was envisioning a single shoe lying in the coal shed. Mrs. Tidwell’s words ran through her mind, shutting out all else. The big Irishman. He was sweet on my Ellie. Must have flown into a rage or something. First thing in the morning, she promised herself, she would pay Mr. Docker a visit. All she could hope was that the maid’s disappearance was not connected in some way to Charlie’s death. For if so, things did not bode well for Ellie Tidwell.

  CHAPTER 8

  The following morning brought a heavy shower, and Pansy lifted her skirts as she stepped across the puddles in the courtyard. She’d been sent with a message for Samuel, and she intended to make every moment count. It wasn’t often she had an excuse to see him alone in the stables. She wasn’t about to squander the opportunity.

  She’d taken a moment or two to pull strands of hair out from under her cap. Mrs. Chubb would have a fit if she saw that, but it was worth the risk to look modern and daring like the models in Mrs. Chubb’s magazines that her daughter sent her all the time.

  Humming to herself, Pansy skipped across the last big puddle and smoothed down her skirt and apron. She pinched her cheeks to give them color, then spit on her finger and smoothed it across her eyebrows.

  Secure in the knowledge that she looked the best she could, she marched into the stables. The smell took her breath away for a moment, and she tried not to breathe in too deeply as she scanned the stalls for a sight of Samuel.

  She heard his voice before she saw him. By the soft tones he used she could tell he was talking to one of the horses. Creeping forward, she noticed three motorcars in the stalls opposite the horses.

  Samuel had told her about them the first night they’d arrived. The first one, a sleek silver machine, belonged to Lord and Lady Millshire. Then the dark blue one in the next stall, that was Sir Walter Hayesbury’s. The third one, a small dark green motorcar, belonged to the crackpot in room nine, Mr. Mortimer.

  “You have to learn to drive it first,” Samuel said from a few yards away.

  She jumped, and swung around. “What?”

  “The motorcar. If you’re thinking of stealing it, you have to know how to drive it.”

  She tossed her head, wafting strands of hair across her face. Snatching them out of her eyes, she muttered, “I wasn’t thinking of stealing one. I never stole nothing in my entire life.”

  Samuel laughed. “I know that. I was just teasing.” He walked a few steps toward her, then stopped. “I want you to meet a very good friend of mine. She’s sweet and pretty and I think you’ll like her.”

  Pansy’s heart sunk. If it was that twerp Ellie, well, she’d already met her thank you very much. She didn’t want to meet any girl that Samuel thought was pretty and sweet. “I can’t stop,” she said, already turning away. “I just came to give you a message, that’s all.”

  “It won’t take a minute.” To her surprise, Samuel looked over his shoulder and whistled. “Come here, Tess! There’s a good girl!”

  A large brown head poked around the corner of a stall, then a furry body followed, ending with a long wagging tail.

  With a cry of delight, Pansy rushed forward. “Oh! She’s beautiful! Where did she come from?”

  “I found her a few days ago, wandering around in the rain. She looked so sorry for herself, I brought her in here and got her dry.”

  “She’s so thin.” Pansy ran a hand over the bony ribs sticking out above the dog’s taut belly. “Poor thing must be starving.”

  “Well, not anymore.” Samuel grinned. “She’s been eating everything I bring in for her for the past two days.”

  Pansy gasped. “You’ve been feeding her? What will Mrs. Chubb say?”

  “Madam said I could keep her, seeing as how she’s a good ratter. Caught three of them, she did.”

  “Eeew. I hope she didn’t eat them.”

  “Nah, I buried them.”

  Pansy shuddered. “When did madam see her, then?”

  “She didn’t. I just told her about Tess and she said it was all right to keep her.”

  Pansy stroked the soft fur. “She looks really clean for a stray.”

  “Yeah, well, I had to give her a bath. She smelled horrible.”

  Pansy smiled up at him. “As bad as your horses?”

  “Worse.”

  Obviously put out about losing her attention, the dog nudged her arm.

  Pansy laughed. “Well, I hope I can come and see you sometime, Tess.”

  “You can come anytime you want.”

  Catching her breath, Pansy looked up at him. “I’d really like that. I love dogs.”

  For a moment she saw something in Samuel’s eyes that made her heart beat faster. She snatched her gaze away, before he could see her confusion. He knew how she felt about him. She’d told him she loved him. More than once. He always answered with a joke, telling her she was too young to know her own mind.

  In the end she’d grown tired of him treating her like a child. True, he was a few years older than her. Well, almost twelve years older, but that didn’t make no difference to her and it shouldn’t to him. So now she was careful what she said. She could afford to wait. One day he’d see her as a woman, and she’d be there waiting for him.

  “Tell you what,” Samuel said, his voice sounding a little strained, “I’m taking Tess to the woods this afternoon. Since it’s your afternoon off and all, perhaps you’d like to come for a walk with us?”

  Pansy leapt to her feet so suddenly Tess backed away in alarm. “I’d love to come with you! I’ll meet you back here at half past two.”

  Keeping his gaze firmly on the dog, Samuel stooped to pet her. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

  Bursting with excitement, Pansy fled for the door, only to pause as she remembered why she’d come. “Oh, I forgot. Madam said to tell you she wants a carriage at the front door at ten o’clock this morning.”

  She barely waited for Samuel’s “Right ho!” before flying across the courtyard on winged feet. She couldn’t wait to tell Gertie. Samuel had actually asked her to go for a walk with him! He’d never asked her before. She’d always been the one to engineer their meetings.

  Now she ached for the afternoon to come. Any time she could spend with Samuel was precious time, and she was going to enjoy every single second of it.

  It wasn’t until she had burst into the kitchen, busting to tell her friend the great news, that she remembered. It was her afternoon off, and she had already told Lenny she’d meet him at the gate at three o’clock. Now what was she going to do?

  Mick Docker had been hard to track down. After calling on his home, Samuel had been redirected to a farmhouse on the outskirts of town, where Mick was working on the roof.

  Cecily was quite frustrated when they arrived to find the roofer had already moved on to the next job-at the Fox and Hounds, on the other side of town.

  By the time they arrived at the pub, she was seriously thinking about her midday meal. Without Baxter by her side, however, it would be improper for her to take lunch at the pub.

  Samuel helped her down from the carriage with a worried frown. “You’re here to talk to Mick about Charlie, aren’t you, m’m.”

  Cecily gave him a warning look. “Perhaps. If you’re thinking of telling me, however, that Mr. Baxter would not approve, and that you are not comfortable helping me without his knowledge, then may I remind you that this is certainly not the first time, nor is it likely to be the last.”

  Samuel looked even more unhappy. “That doesn’t make me feel any better, m’m.”

&n
bsp; “I’m not here to make you happy, Samuel. I’m here to find out if Mr. Docker can tell us anything useful.”

  “Yes, m’m.”

  Cecily glanced up at the roof. Although she could see no one, the clamor of banging and thudding told her the men were working up there. “Now that we have that settled, perhaps you would be so good as to attract Mr. Docker’s attention, and let him know I wish to speak with him.”

  Samuel opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to protest, when the sudden silence took them both by surprise. “Must be time to knock off,” he muttered.

  “They are probably going into the public bar for lunch.” Cecily gave him a gentle prod with her elbow. “Hurry, Samuel. I want to speak to Mr. Docker before he goes in there.”

  Samuel hurried off, and she took a seat at one of the outdoors tables in the garden to wait for him. By the time he returned, with a frowning Mick Docker in tow, the cold wind had chilled her to the bone.

  Anxious to be on her way home, she wasted no time in her quest for answers. “Mr. Docker, do you have any idea where we might find Ellie Tidwell?”

  The roofer seemed taken aback by the blunt question. He sat down heavily on the bench opposite her, shaking his head, his eyes dark and wary. “Why would I know where she is? She’s probably run off, that’s what.”

  Cecily raised her eyebrows. “Run off?”

  “Yes, m’m. Scarpered.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “She was sweet on that footman what got killed. I reckon she saw it happen, got scared, and ran.” He straightened up again. “She’ll be back as soon as she gets hungry enough, you mark my words.”

  Cecily narrowed her eyes. “How exactly did you learn that Ellie was missing?”

  Mick swiped at his nose with the back of his hand. “I heard the maids talking about it, didn’t I.”

  “Did you also know that one of Ellie’s shoes was found in the coal shed last night?”

  Mick’s eyes widened. “The coal shed? What the devil was it doing there?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at, Mrs. Baxter, but I don’t know nothing about Ellie or where she might have gone. She and me were done a long time ago. I haven’t even spoken to her since she came back to Badgers End.” He pulled a watch from his vest pocket and studied it briefly before stuffing it back. “If that’s all, m’m, I have to get back to me mates. I only give ’em half an hour to eat, then it’s back on the job.”

  Frustrated, Cecily nodded. “Of course. I would appreciate it, however, if you would let me know if you should hear from Ellie.”

  Mick laughed as he got up, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You can rule that one out, m’m. I’d be the last person on earth Ellie would talk to, no matter how much trouble she’s in.” He touched the peak of his cap with his fingers. “Good day to you, m’m.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Docker.” Cecily watched him stride off across the courtyard; then, turning to Samuel, she murmured, “Well, that was a wasted journey.”

  Samuel looked at her, an odd expression on his face.

  Sensing something amiss, Cecily leaned forward. “What is it, Samuel?”

  Her stable manager shook his head, then said slowly, “He said he hadn’t talked to Ellie at all since she got back from London.”

  “Yes, he did.” Nerves tightening, Cecily waited.

  “Well, m’m. I could be wrong, but I could swear it was him I heard Ellie arguing with the night before we found Charlie’s body. I heard her yelling at someone, and I’m sure it was Mick I heard. I recognized his accent.”

  “Are you quite sure, Samuel?”

  Samuel shrugged. “As sure as I could be, I reckon.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Around nine o’clock. I’d just finished putting away the last motorcar and locked everything up. I was on my way to my room when I heard Ellie yelling in the kitchen yard. Then I heard Mick yelling back at her.”

  Cecily tapped her fingers on the table. “I shall have another chat with Mr. Docker later. Right now, however, we have to return to the Pennyfoot. Mr. Baxter will be wondering where I am.”

  At the mention of Baxter’s name, Samuel leapt to his feet. “We’d better go, then, m’m.”

  Rising more slowly, Cecily drew her scarf closer around her neck. She was thinking about Mick Docker. Had he lied when he said he hadn’t talked to Ellie? He’d mentioned that the maid was fond of Charlie. Had he seen them together and argued with Ellie that night? Perhaps, driven by jealousy, he’d dropped the gargoyle on Charlie’s head the next morning. It was certainly a possibility, but how in the world would she find out for certain, much less prove it? That was the question.

  “You’ll have to tell Lenny,” Gertie said, waving a spoon at Pansy for emphasis. “You can’t just leave him waiting for you at the gate.”

  Leaning back against the kitchen sink, Pansy twisted her apron between her fingers, her stomach tied up in knots. “He’ll be cross with me. I daren’t tell him.”

  “Just tell him you have to do something else this afternoon. You don’t have to tell him what it is.” Gertie turned her back on her and went on folding serviettes into the shape of swans. “Tell him you’ll go out with him another time.”

  “But I don’t want to go out with him. Ever.” Pansy felt a tear forming and blinked it back. “I only said I’d go out with him to make Samuel jealous, and now Samuel’s asked me out so I don’t have to make him jealous anymore.”

  “Well, Lenny will be a lot more cross if you don’t tell him and he has to wait in the cold for you and you don’t turn up.” Gertie turned back to face her. “If I were you I’d be there at the gate to meet him.”

  “I can’t.” Pansy glanced at the clock. “I’m supposed to meet Samuel at half past two. Lenny won’t be at the gate until three o’clock.”

  Gertie pursed her lips. “Looks like you’ve got a bleeding problem then, doesn’t it. Perhaps you should tell Samuel about Lenny and meet him later.”

  Pansy swallowed. “I can’t. He’ll be upset with me and I’d rather make Lenny angry than Samuel.”

  “Well, then, I suppose it’s up to you what you do. Just don’t come crying to me if Lenny has a row with you later.” She turned back to the table, putting an end to the conversation.

  Pansy went back to washing the glassware, wishing she’d never agreed to meet Lenny. She must have been out of her mind. Now she’d got herself in a mess, and Gertie wasn’t any help.

  She thought about asking Gertie to meet Lenny and tell him she wasn’t coming, except she knew Gertie wouldn’t like that at all, and she was upsetting enough people as it was. No, she’d just have to meet Samuel and leave Lenny waiting at the gate.

  After all, she hadn’t actually said in words that she’d meet him. She’d just nodded her head. In any case, he’d probably be so cross with her he’d stay out of her way and never talk to her again.

  The roof job was finished, and unless they got another leak, it could be months before he worked on the Pennyfoot again. By then, he would have forgotten all about her leaving him at the gate.

  Feeling a little better, she carefully stacked glasses on the draining board. All she wanted to do was look forward to her walk with Samuel and Tess, and she couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  As it was, the guests lingered longer than usual over their midday meal, and it was already half past two by the time all the dishes were cleared from the table and stacked by the sink ready to wash.

  Fighting a sense of panic, Pansy thrust a pile of dishes into the hot soapy water. “If I don’t get out to the stables, Samuel will go without me,” she cried, as Gertie picked up a tea towel ready to dry the dishes. “He’ll never ask me again and I’ll just die.”

  Gertie grinned. “No, you won’t.” She took a wet dish out of Pansy’s hands. “Here, go on with you. I’ll finish these.”

  Pansy rose up on tiptoe and flung her arms around Gertie’s shoulders. “Th
ank you, thank you!”

  “You can do the same for me someday,” Gertie said, shaking her off. “Now get out to those bloody stables before Samuel leaves.”

  Pansy needed no more nudging. Dragging off her apron, she flew to the door, pausing only long enough to hook the apron on the wall before racing out into the hallway.

  Reminding herself that the staff were not allowed to run inside the building, she slowed her steps as she crossed the lobby, but once outside in the cold fresh air, she flew as fast as she could across the backyard and into the courtyard.

  Samuel was just emerging from the stables, the lanky dog skipping around his feet, as she turned the corner. He waved as she hurried toward him, one hand smoothing the stray hairs that had escaped the tight knot at the back of her head.

  Flushed and panting, she stopped to pat Tess’s head before smiling up at Samuel. “Sorry I’m late. They was late getting out of the dining room.”

  “That’s all right.” Samuel grinned back at her, warming her through and through. “Tess is anxious to get to the woods, though, aren’t you, girl?”

  Tess wagged her tail and bounded over to the gate. For a moment Pansy worried that Lenny might arrive there early, but there was no sign of the lad as they stepped out onto the Esplanade.

  “We’ll take the back way,” Samuel said, leading her down the alleyway that bordered the country club. “Tess doesn’t like carriages, for some reason. I think she might have been hit by one at some time.”

  “Oh, poor thing!” Pansy reached out a hand to pat the dog’s head again but Tess bounded away, out of reach. Not that Pansy minded. She was too relieved that they were taking the back way, thus avoiding any chance of bumping into Lenny.

  The next half hour or so went by in a flash as she and Samuel walked side by side, talking and laughing at Tess, who stopped every two minutes to sniff at the roadside.

  Pansy did her best to forget about Lenny waiting for her at the gate, though every now and then she’d be struck with a pang of guilt.