Mulled Murder (Pennyfoot Holiday Mysteries) (17 page)

Staring at Henry now, Pansy wondered why she hadn’t seen it before. Of course he . . . she was a girl. She was much too pretty to be a boy. She waited, along with Lilly, to hear Henry’s answer.

“My name is Henrietta,” Henry said at last. “My dad wanted a boy and was all ready to call me Henry. My mum died having me, so me and Dad were all alone. He brought me up, and taught me all the things he would have taught a boy.” Henry jerked her hand at the stables. “Like mending motorcars.”

Lilly shook her head. “I still don’t understand.”

Henry’s voice rose on a note of desperation. “Me dad’s ill. He can’t work no more. I needed money to take care of him and I can earn a lot more mending motorcars than I can working in a hotel or a shop.”

Lilly still looked baffled. “So?”

Henry raised her hands, palms up. “Who the heck would hire me to mend motorcars if they knew I was a girl?”

Pansy wanted to tell Henry that Madam probably would if she knew the whole story.

She was about to jump out from her hiding place when Lilly said, “You’re right. They’d probably say you can’t work with the guests’ motorcars. Charlie would have a pink fit if he knew you were a girl.”

“So you’ll keep my secret?
Please?
”

Pansy held her breath again.

After a long pause, Lilly dug her hands into the pockets of her skirt. “Awright, I won’t say nothing.”

“Thank you.” Henry sounded close to tears. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost this job. My dad’s illness is costing so much money.”

Lilly’s voice was muffled when she answered, but Pansy was close enough to hear every word. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll keep your secret. I’ve got one of my own, so I know what it’s like to keep a secret.”

Henry sniffed. “You do?”

“Yeah, but it’s far too dangerous to tell you about it.”

“Dangerous? For who?”

“For both of us.”

Lilly started to turn, and Pansy quickly drew back, out of sight. There had been something chilling in Lilly’s words that warned her to stay out of sight.

She jumped as something cold and wet touched her hand. Looking down, she saw Tess’s big brown eyes staring up at her. She smiled, and laid a hand gently on the dog’s head. She stayed that way until Lilly had left for the kitchen and Henry was safely inside the stables. Then she hugged Tess and quickly made her way back across the courtyard. It seemed as if everybody had secrets lately. Henry, Lilly, Alice—she felt as if she didn’t know anybody anymore.

Except her Samuel. Thinking of Samuel swept all her doubts and worries away. Soon she’d be Mrs. Samuel Whitfield. What she needed to do now was go back to her room and try on her gown one more time to make sure it looked perfect. Because everything had to be perfect on her wedding day.

Skipping the last few steps, she started to softly hum the opening notes of the “Wedding March.”

• • •

By the time the guests were filing into the ballroom to attend the pantomime, Cecily still hadn’t heard from Kevin Prestwick. Concerned that something might have happened to him, she was vastly relieved to see him stroll into the foyer, a radiant Madeline clinging to his arm.

Madeline had outdone herself with her wardrobe. She wore a flowing gown in ivory silk and lace, the skirt of which was embroidered with tiny bunches of green holly and bright red berries. In her hair, which fell past her shoulders in smooth dark waves, she had pinned a sprig of mistletoe.

Knowing that Madeline sewed her own clothes, Cecily was most impressed by the delicate handiwork. “You look magnificent,” she told her friend, noting that only Madeline would dare to attend a sophisticated occasion with unpinned locks. She seemed unaware of the scandalous glances aimed at her from a few of the women patrons, no doubt in retaliation for the admiring stares from their male escorts.

“You look most becoming yourself,” Madeline observed. “I adore the silver trimmings on your gown. They show up beautifully on that dark blue satin.”

Having worried that the glittering silver beads and rickrack might be seen as pretentious, Cecily smiled her delight. “Thank you, Madeline. You have made my evening.” She turned to Kevin, resplendent in his black frock coat and white bow tie. He wore a red waistcoat that gave him a festive appearance. Together the Prestwicks made a most impressive couple.

“I was a little worried when you didn’t give me a ring this afternoon,” she said, giving him a fake look of disapproval. “I thought you might have met with an accident. The streets are so busy this time of year.”

Kevin looked puzzled. “Was I supposed to ring you?”

Now it was Cecily’s turn to frown. “You didn’t receive my message?”

“I did not.” Kevin uttered a sound of exasperation. “I gave my receptionist the afternoon off, but Esther, my nurse, was supposed to take any messages.”

“Well, yes, it was your nurse with whom I spoke.” Cecily laid a hand on his arm. “No matter, Kevin. It wasn’t that important. I just wanted your opinion on a matter concerning one of my staff.”

“If you’ll both excuse me,” Madeline said, lifting one side of her skirt, “I’ll go along to the ballroom. I want a word with Phoebe before the presentation begins.”

“Of course.” Cecily smiled at her. “I’ll see you after the pantomime.”

“I’ll be right along,” Kevin assured her, then turned back to Cecily as Madeline disappeared down the hallway. “Now, what is it you wish to know?”

Cecily glanced around. Guests were still descending the stairs and wandering across the lobby. “Perhaps my office? I promise not to keep you for more than a few moments.”

Kevin held out his hand. “After you, my dear.”

Smiling, she led him to her office, leaving the door ajar as she entered the room. “It’s about Alice,” she said, coming straight to the point. “She seems to have disappeared. No one has seen her since last night.”

Kevin stroked his chin. “No doubt she has recovered her memory and has returned home.”

Cecily pursed her lips. “If so, that was rather uncharitable of her. After all, we did take her in and provide room and board for her. A note of thanks would have been appreciated.”

Kevin gave her a rueful smile. “I agree. You must understand, however, how traumatic such a revelation would be to someone who up until that moment had no idea who she was or where she came from. The shock of discovering her life again could quite well have sent her on her way without any further thought other than to get back home and put her family out of their misery.”

Cecily nodded. “I can understand that.”

“No doubt you will hear from her once she has recovered from the ordeal.”

“Well, there is just one more thing.” She told him about Charlotte’s fall and what had caused it. “I have a suspicion that Alice might have left the shawl there on purpose, so that Charlotte would fall.”

“Why would she do such a thing?”

“I was sending her to the orphanage that morning. She was adamantly opposed to the idea. I think she caused Charlotte’s fall so that there would be a vacancy in the staff and she could apply for the position.”

Kevin looked skeptical. “That would have been a rather drastic measure, don’t you think?”

Cecily shrugged. “Alice was feeling desperate. I think she would have done anything rather than leave the security of the Pennyfoot.”

“Well, if you’re right, then there should definitely be consequences. Charlotte could have been killed in that fall.” Kevin sighed. “First we have to find Alice to get at the truth. That won’t be easy, since we know nothing about her.”

“I know.” Cecily turned for the door. “That’s something I shall have to work on after Christmas. Right now all I’m concerned about is the fact that we may have a killer lurking somewhere down in the tunnel. I’ve been waiting to hear from . . .” She paused, remembering her promise to Harry Clements. “. . . someone who may well be able to help in that respect. I’m hoping he will be able to settle the matter without involving me or the Pennyfoot.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows. “If he can do that, whoever he is, then he has my utmost respect.”

Unwilling to say more, Cecily opened the door. “We must get along to the ballroom. Your wife will be anxiously waiting for you, and my husband is no doubt gnashing his teeth. He doesn’t care for Phoebe’s presentations, and only my presence keeps him in his seat.”

Kevin grinned. “That sounds familiar. I confess that Madeline might very well say the same thing about me.”

“Then you and Baxter should both be ashamed of yourselves. Phoebe goes to a lot of time and trouble to present the Christmas extravaganza.”

“She does, indeed,” Kevin said solemnly. “I shall endeavor to sit back and enjoy the performance, come what may.”

Cecily led the way down the hallway, hoping that Phoebe, for once, would get through an entire presentation without some kind of calamity.

Reaching the door of the ballroom, she saw Lady Elizabeth standing just inside, beckoning to her. The aristocrat was fashionably dressed in gold lace, her skirt slightly higher than Cecily was accustomed to seeing, as dictated by the latest fashions coming out of France.

The shorter skirt revealed the woman’s slim ankles, her feet encased in gold leather shoes with a tiny heel and gold ruffles adorning the buckle. Cecily had to drag her gaze away from them as she approached.

“Lady Elizabeth, I trust you are well?”

“Quite well, thank you.” The woman looked down her nose at Cecily. “I do have a complaint, however. Accustomed as we are to indoor plumbing, we are finding the lack of it here most inconvenient. Pray tell me that the lavatories will be in service shortly?”

Cecily gaped at her. The problem had completely escaped her mind. Fighting back her outrage at the incompetent plumber, she forced an apologetic smile. “I am most dreadfully sorry, Lady Elizabeth. Unfortunately our usual competent plumber is indisposed, and unable to make the repairs. I will certainly have a word with his replacement at the very first opportunity. I promise you, every effort will be made to solve the problem at the earliest possible moment.”

Lady Elizabeth appeared unappeased by the news. “I certainly hope so.” She lifted a lorgnette to her eyes and peered at Cecily through the lenses. “I should hate to have to return to London to spend Christmas Day in more comfortable surroundings.”

“I assure you, Your Ladyship, I will do everything in my power to see that the lavatories are restored.”

The woman sniffed, then turned and swept off, no doubt to complain to her husband.

Cecily sighed. The plumber had already left for the day. Spying Gertie by the refreshments table, she hurried over to her.

Gertie looked anxious when Cecily reached the table. “Is something wrong, m’m?”

“I just wanted a word with you.” Cecily looked over her shoulder to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “I need to speak with the plumber. Do you know if he is still here?”

Gertie rolled her eyes. “No, m’m. He left an hour ago. Good bloody riddance, too. He’s a bleeding rake if you ask me.” Seeing Cecily’s expression, she hurriedly added, “If you’ll excuse the word, m’m. I don’t know how else to describe him.”

Cecily cleared her throat. “I was merely wondering if he was close to repairing the lavatories. Perhaps I should ask Mrs. Chubb.”

“I wouldn’t bet on anything with that bleeding rotter,” Gertie said darkly. “It’s no wonder he hasn’t done with the lavs yet. He’s always hanging around downstairs. He’s been making eyes at every woman he comes across. Even Mrs. Chubb.”

Cecily hastily suppressed a grin. “I see.”

“He was even chatting up Alice.” Gertie leaned across the table to straighten a plate of sausage rolls. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw her talking to him. I thought she was afraid of every bleeding bloke.”

“Alice?” Cecily took a moment to absorb this surprising news. “When was this, exactly?”

Gertie frowned. “Let me see. It were yesterday afternoon. I know I was surprised to see them together. Bernie seemed upset that Alice was gorn this morning when I saw him coming out of the laundry room. Yet in the next minute he’s bleeding making eyes at me.” She shook her head. “Some men should have it cut off, that’s what I say.”

Cecily wasn’t sure what Gertie meant by that, but she knew better than to ask. Besides, what her chief housemaid had just told her was most intriguing. She made a mental note to talk to the plumber first thing in the morning. She had quite a few questions to ask him.

Later, seated next to her husband in the front row, she settled back to enjoy the pantomime. At least, as much as she was able to enjoy it, considering all her worries. The constant threat of a catastrophe onstage seemed minor in comparison, though she could tell that Baxter was on edge, waiting for the inevitable.

It came almost at the end of the performance. Phoebe was a huge enthusiast of the plateau, and most of her presentations, whether they called for it or not, included one in the grand finale. It usually came in the form of dancers balanced precariously on the shaking shoulders of their accomplices.

In order to obtain a perfect plateau, all participants had to remain motionless without so much as twitching a muscle, which meant that perfection was never achieved for more than a second or two at a time. More often than not, the plateau ended with most of its participants sprawled upon the ground.

Despite Cecily’s efforts in the past to dissuade Phoebe from attempting the perilous maneuver, the determined woman had ignored all advice or pleas. It was a fitting end for a successful performance, she had insisted, completely ignoring the fact that it seldom had worked, and that she was in danger of causing serious injuries.

Up until that moment, the pantomime had been amusing and quite respectable, with some of the saltier lines omitted by Phoebe’s inimitable sense of decorum. Dick Whittington’s cat looked more like a street beggar in a moth-eaten fur coat, with a long, stringy tail that dragged on the ground behind her. She made up for the tatty costume with her exuberance for the part, which involved a lot of prowling and mewing around the stage.

Cecily had just begun to hope that this presentation would go off without a hitch, and even Baxter looked more relaxed, when Phoebe announced the plateau.