Murder at the Mikado (22 page)

Her arms went around him, and she laid her cheek against his.

“Drew . . .” she whispered.

Her fingers felt light on his skin, tender and loving, and he was almost sure she was going to tell him she had changed her mind, that everything she’d just said was only the result of nuptial nerves. But then she abruptly pulled away and took several steps back, increasing the distance between them.

“I’ll make sure everything is canceled,” she said. “Aunt Ruth and I made all the arrangements. We’ll make sure they’re all unmade as quickly as possible. You don’t have to do anything. I hope . . .” Tears glistened in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her face a mask of serene resignation. “I hope you’ll see, and very soon, that this is best for the both of us. Friends still?”

He stared at her outstretched hand, the entire world suddenly turning bleak. “Madeline, please . . .”

“I’m not going to quarrel with you over this. It is the way it is. If you don’t want to be my friend anymore, I can understand that. Just tell me.”

He took her hand and pressed his lips to it. “I love you, darling. I would never try to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Madeline, don’t go. Please don’t.
He clutched her hand more tightly. “Are you sure this is what you want? I mean, truly sure?”

She shook her head, lips quivering, and then took her hand from his. “But it’s what’s best.”

Drew nodded slowly. “All right, darling, if you’re sure you don’t want to think things over. I suppose I don’t have much choice, do I?”

She reached toward him and then clasped her hands together in front of herself. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Drew. Not if I could help it.”

“I’m certain you wouldn’t mean to, but you have. You
are.” He studied her for a moment. “Would it make a difference if I agreed to drop the case? If we totally forgot about Fleur?”

“No. You should go on with the case. Miss Cullimore won’t tell you anything about your mother if you don’t.”

“But you’re right. Our future is more important than anything in the past, yours or mine. If I don’t find out about my mother, then I don’t. We can still—”

“Finish the case. Then find out about your mother. I’ll still help you, if you like.” She bit her lip and offered her hand once again. “So, friends then?”

“Of course.” He shook her hand. “Friends.”

“And I am right, and you are
right, and all is right as right can be!”
The words from that infernal
Mikado
wouldn’t leave his head.

She stood there for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do next. Then she gave him a little nod. “I had better go see to some things now. I suppose I’ll see you at dinner?”

He made a slight bow, one he would have used in the most formal of occasions. “Of course.”

Without another word she strode back into the house. He followed her inside and sank down onto the library sofa. Numb. That was all. Even before the blazing hearth fire, he felt numb. The real pain would come in time. Right now he was too stunned to think.
Thank you, Fleur.

“Well, it’s all over.”

He looked up to see Nick standing in the doorway.

“What?” Drew blinked. “Come in, old man. What is it?”

“Between Barbie and me. The whole thing’s come a cropper. Not that I wasn’t expecting it, not that I mightn’t even think it’s for the best, but—”

“Same with me and Madeline.”

Nick’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“I don’t know how to make it any clearer. As of this moment, everything is off. Madeline has decided she was a bit too hasty in accepting my proposal and would rather we remain merely friends.”

“I can hardly believe it. I thought she was utterly mad about you.”

“As did I. She claims she is still, but she won’t marry me.”

He realized he was still holding the engagement ring, holding it so tightly that it was digging into his hand. He slipped it into his coat pocket.

Nick shook his head. “Bad luck, old man. I’m sorry. Still, I’ve been given to understand that it would hardly be a really serious engagement if it hasn’t been broken off at least once. Perhaps she’s been reading too much Oscar Wilde. Do you think she absolutely means it?”

“She says she does.” Drew blew all the breath from his lungs. “I don’t quite know what to make of it myself.”

“What exactly did she say?”

“She wanted me to abandon the Ravenswood case.”

Nick winced. “I was wondering when it would be too much for her.”

“Having Fleur about? Yes, I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but it has. Fleur gives me another firm kick to the jaw.” Drew shook his head. “No, that’s not fair. I can’t blame Fleur for this. Not really. Yes, she has treated a number of men most abominably, myself included. She’s still spoilt and brazen in many ways, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t changed. Or at least that she doesn’t want to be better than she has been. She claims she does. I mean, don’t we all?”

Drew braced one elbow on his knee and leaned his chin in his hand. After all, was not his whole faith founded on the idea that no matter how steeped in sin, willing hearts could be made clean and new? He had found it so himself, and he could not rightly deny her the same grace. No, he couldn’t blame this quarrel with Madeline on Fleur.

“So why don’t you?” Nick asked.

Drew straightened, looking up at his friend. “Why don’t I what?”

“Why don’t you drop the case? Surely Madeline is more important to you than this murder investigation.”

“Of course she is. Actually I was on my way to tell Landis I was done with it when I got a visit from Miss Cullimore.” Drew paused. “Nick, she knew my mother. My real mother. Before I was born.”

Nick grinned. “A break at last. Splendid.”

“Yes and no. Miss Cullimore won’t tell me anything unless I solve this case, or at least prove positively that she’s not mixed up in it.”

“So you can’t drop the case, after all.”

“I offered to, if that would patch things up between me and Madeline, but it didn’t seem to help.”

“Madeline’s that angry over it?”

“Not angry,” Drew said. “Scared, I think. A while ago, someone rather like Fleur came between her and the man she expected to marry, and then it all ended by cracking him up in a car. Being around Fleur brought it all back to her.”

Nick frowned. “I’m not sure I see the connection.”

“I’m not entirely sure I do, either,” Drew admitted. “I think she’s afraid that if she was wrong about someone she’d known all her life, she shouldn’t be making commitments to someone
she hasn’t known half a year yet. But what can I do? I can’t make her marry me if she doesn’t want to.”

Nick shook his head. “It’s just not right, Drew. You’re perfect for each other. Besides, I don’t know of another girl I could stand having about the place all the time. Well, Carrie, I think, but she would be for me and not for you.”

Drew gave him a rueful grin. “Certainly. Well, try convincing Madeline of that.”

“That doesn’t seem too likely.” Nick’s forehead wrinkled. “Well, is there anything I
can
do to help?”

“Thanks awfully, old man, but I don’t expect there is. You might send up a prayer or two before you turn in tonight.”

“And what if the answer is no?”

After a long moment, Drew gave him a thin smile. “I don’t much like to think of that.”

“It could be, you know,”

“Yes, I know. I know it very well.”

They were both silent for a while, and then Nick turned to leave. “I’ll let you alone now, eh?”

Drew nodded, and an instant later he heard the soft click of the library door shutting. He was alone.

Alone.

His eyes stung, but he blinked them hard, clenching his jaw until he feared the bones would crack.

Madeline was going. She would stop all the wedding plans, send out cancellation notices to the guests, and soon after, go back to America. Might as well be China or the South Pole.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, “show me what to do.”

Though it was a meager prayer, it was the only one Drew could manage.

M
adeline hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. She had to get inside while she could still hold back the tears. Drew. How could she leave him now? But she couldn’t marry him. Not if she wasn’t absolutely sure. She had been sure. At least until that Fleur Landis came around, knocking out every bit of self-confidence and certainty she had.

“There you are.” Aunt Ruth approached her outside their bedroom door, fashion magazine in hand. “If I
were
to wear something special to your wedding, what do you think of . . . ? Whatever’s wrong, child?”

Madeline shook her head, not trusting her voice enough to speak. Instead she bustled her aunt into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.

“Well?” the older woman asked.

Madeline plopped herself onto the bed and wiped her nose with her pocket handkerchief. “Nothing.”

Aunt Ruth narrowed her eyes. “I know you better than to believe that, Madeline. Now, what is it?”

Madeline forced a tight smile. “Drew and I have decided we won’t be getting married after all.”

Aunt Ruth’s eyes widened. “What? What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. I just want to cancel everything. Do you have a list of everyone we invited? I’ll have to let each of them know it’s off. I suppose I should have some sort of card printed up and mailed out. How do they handle these things?”

“Just a simple announcement that the wedding will not be taking place.” Aunt Ruth sat down beside her. “Are you sure it’s as bad as all that? I thought you loved him?”

Tears sprang into Madeline’s eyes. “I do. I just don’t think . . . I shouldn’t have said I would marry him. I’m not ready.”

Aunt Ruth pursed her lips. “Well, you could have fooled me all this time. And just what makes you sure you aren’t ready?”

“It’s . . . it’s Fleur. I’m afraid . . .” Her throat tightened. “I’m afraid.”

“You don’t think he’s still interested in her, do you? Mrs. Landis? Poppycock. Why would you even consider such a thing?”

“No. It’s not that. Not exactly.”

“Then what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Madeline drew her knees to her chest and hunched her shoulders over them. “She just reminds me of that girl Dinah. The one Jimmy . . .”

Aunt Ruth nodded. “I’ve been wondering if you saw the resemblance. Not physical, of course, but the two of them were certainly stamped from the same mold. Well, if that was enough to shake you up, maybe you ought to slow things down after all.”

“Exactly. When Drew and I first met, he was interested in me. All right, I was interested in him too, but I told you before that I was trying to make sure of him. Of us. And I thought I had. But what if I’m wrong again, like I was with Jimmy?”

For a long moment, Aunt Ruth only looked at her, her mouth in a grim line. This past summer she had arrived at Farthering Place unannounced and determined to extinguish any spark of love between Madeline and her spoiled foreigner. Now she looked as if she were offended the young man she’d warned Madeline against was now being refused by her.

“Have you discussed this with Drew? Whatever you decide, you owe him at least that much.”

Madeline nodded, feeling half ashamed. “He says he doesn’t want me to marry him if I’m not sure. I just . . . well, how well do we really know each other?”

Aunt Ruth chuckled. “Just how many murders do you have to solve together before you really know a man?”

“It’s not funny.” Madeline sniffled and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “How do you know?”

Aunt Ruth put an arm around her. “You don’t know, honey. I told you about Bert, the man I was supposed to marry, oh, a million years ago. When I found out there was going to be a scandal about his father’s bank, I broke our engagement. What if I couldn’t handle people talking about him? About us? What if he ended up being dishonest, just like his father? What if everything he ever told me was a lie? I broke it off because I was scared. And then, before I could sort out all my emotions about it, he died. He died, and I didn’t have the luxury of changing my mind again.”

“Would you have?” Madeline asked, her voice thick. “Would you have married him after all?”

“I would have.” There was a wistful look in the older woman’s eyes. “I never found anyone I felt the same way about. Not in all the years since then. Or maybe I just remember him as a little more perfect than he really was or ever could have been.”

Madeline studied her face, recalling pictures she had seen from twenty or thirty years ago. Ruth Jansen had been a beauty in her day. Now she was old, and those days would never return. Madeline didn’t want to end up like her, with nothing but what might have been to look back on.

“Have you prayed about all this?” Aunt Ruth asked.

Madeline exhaled heavily. “Over and over. Until Fleur showed up, I felt sure Drew and I were meant to be together. Now . . . I don’t know anymore. I feel like everything’s wrong.”

“You aren’t expecting any money-back guarantees, are you?”

“No, but—”

“You can’t know, honey. You can only believe and go forward and trust God one day at a time.”

Until everything falls
apart.
Madeline felt that same pounding dread that had flooded over her when they told her about Jimmy when she was eighteen. She felt that same uncertainty, that same insecurity, that same sense of not being good enough.
Oh, what
do I do now?

“What do you think of Drew?”

Aunt Ruth chuckled again. “Oh, no. I’m not making this decision for you. You have to make it on your own, and then you have to live with it.”

“All right. I guess the wisest thing to do is to break things off now,” Madeline said, her eyes on the floor, “before we
both make a terrible mistake. Anyway, I just need to know if you have the list of people we sent invitations to. I must let them know as soon as possible that they need to cancel their plans.”

“You don’t think you ought to think about this a while longer before you make a final decision?”

Madeline swallowed hard and blinked back tears. “I’ve been thinking about it since all this happened with Fleur. I just can’t be sure I’m not making a mistake.”

Aunt Ruth put one finger under Madeline’s chin and tilted up her face. “You’re certain this is what you want to do? And you absolutely will not marry this man you’ve been mooning over for the past six months?”

Tears welled in her eyes again, but there was no going back now. It was over. She nodded her head, unable to say anything more.

“Well then.” Her aunt’s voice became gentle and sympathetic as she pulled Madeline into a hug. “I don’t want you to worry about any of it, all right? I’ll see that everything’s taken care of.”

Madeline clung to her aunt, shaken with grief. She loved Drew. More than she could have thought possible, she loved him. She wanted him. But she couldn’t marry him and then find out it was all a huge mistake. It was best if she stopped wanting him.

She sat up, blew her nose, and straightened her shoulders. Best to decide such things now before it was too late.

“Thank you, Aunt Ruth. We should start thinking about going back home now.” She sniffled and made herself smile. “I suppose Denny or Nick would make the reservations for us.”

“Don’t you worry about that either, Madeline. I don’t want
to be in such a hurry that we end up on the first tramp steamer going west. When I go home, I intend it to be on a respectable ocean liner, so we might not be leaving right away. That’ll be all right, won’t it? Or should we go stay at the inn until I can get all the arrangements made?”

Madeline shook her head, feeling rather foolish. “No, it’s not as bad as that. Just a little awkward maybe. With Drew and with everyone else in the house. You know how the servants talk.”

“Pshaw, let them talk if they like. If you don’t mind being around the young man for a few days more, then we’ll stay here. One thing’s for sure, he’ll be polite about everything. Whatever else you might say about him, you can’t fault his manners.”

Tears spilled over onto Madeline’s cheeks. She couldn’t fault his manners or much else about him. But if in a month or a year or two it all fell apart . . .

Making soothing clucking noises, Aunt Ruth put her arm around Madeline’s shoulders again. “You go ahead and cry, honey. You’ve had a lot on your mind lately. There’s nothing like a good cry to make you see things a little more clearly.”

The next day, after Madeline disappeared into her bedroom following an uncomfortably quiet lunch, Dennison informed Drew that he had a telephone call. A few minutes later, Drew hunted up Nick, who was going over the estate accounts in Mr. Padgett’s office at the back of the house.

“Can that wait a bit, old man?”

Nick looked up. “Just trying to figure out whether or not the farrier got paid properly, but it’s not urgent. What are you on to?”

“I received a call from Grady over at the Tivoli. He claims he’s found something we ought to take a look at.”

“You know it was Grady for certain, do you?” Nick went to get their hats and coats. “You don’t think he’ll be dead by the time we get there, do you?”

Drew laughed grimly as they headed out to the Rolls.

Grady was waiting for them when they arrived at the theater and escorted them to the wardrobe room at once.

“I was cleaning out this room, now that the police have done with it and all,” he said, “and I came across this.” He handed Drew a piece of paper, folded into thirds. It was a letter.

Drew opened it, scanning the cramped, angular writing.

Darling,

Thursday. At the same little inn we stayed at during Ascot.

Mad about you, my flower.

Your wanton wolf,
C

Drew passed the letter to Nick and then turned to Grady. “Where exactly did you find this note? I would have thought the police would give this room a thorough going-over.”

“I expect they did,” Grady said with a thoughtful scratch of one ear. “But it was stuck behind a drawer in the sewing table. I opened it to put away some pins and a thimble I found on the floor, and I couldn’t get it to shut properly. So I took the drawer out, and there was the letter. Neat as you please.”

“So Benton’s involvement with Tess was not quite as advertised,” Nick observed, handing the letter back to Drew.

“I don’t know.” Drew looked the letter over again. “I say,
Grady, how long had Miss Davidson been working here at the Tivoli?”

“Since the first of August, I believe. I remember feeling a bit sorry, because she said it was her birthday and she didn’t have anyone to celebrate it with.”

“She didn’t know anyone in the troupe?” Drew asked.

“Not that I knew of,” Grady replied. “She’d been in Dover before then. Born and raised there, I understand.”

“And she didn’t know Mr. Benton before she came here?”

“Not in the least.” Grady shook his head. “Far as I could tell, he had hardly a word with her until a week or two ago. He never was much for speaking to anyone beneath him, our Mr. Benton. Like he was doing a bloke a favor if he so much as said good morning to him. Not like Mr. Ravenswood. Mr. Ravenswood knew, of course, that he was fairly better than anyone, save the Archbishop of Canterbury, but at least he’d stand you to a drink and tell you so.”

“But not Benton?”

“Oh, no, sir, though I would say he got a bit chummy this last two or three weeks. Perhaps he’d seen the error of his ways or some such.”

“Hmmm.” Drew glanced at Nick and then turned again to the stageman. “Tell me, was Mr. Benton seeing anyone in particular before Ravenswood was killed? Anyone at all?”

“Particular? Not that I knew of. I mean, he and Mr. Ravenswood always had their pick of the girls. In the troupe. In the audience. Didn’t much matter to them. Sometimes the same ones.” Grady gave a disdainful sniff. “But I don’t know as either of them was steady with just one. To be fair, I’d have to say I didn’t notice it much with Mr. Benton lately.”

“Since Miss Davidson signed on?”

“Well before then. Nearly a year now.” Grady chuckled. “I thought maybe he’d got religion or something.”

Drew tapped the letter thoughtfully, not responding to Nick’s inquiring glance. “Right. Or something . . .”

The stageman seemed rather disappointed. “I thought maybe I’d found something grand there, Mr. Farthering, sir, but I guess it didn’t end up being much after all.”

“It’s hard to say at this point,” Drew told him, “but I’m certainly glad you found it. Now, what have the police said about it?”

“Oh.” Grady looked sheepish. “I suppose I ought to have rung them up first, eh? That chief inspector isn’t going to be too pleased, is he?”

Nick shook his head. “Knowing him, he may have you brought up on charges. Interfering with a police investigation?”

“You don’t think he would, do you?” the stageman asked. “I would have told him. I just didn’t think.”

“Don’t you worry now,” Drew soothed. “Chief Inspector Birdsong is a reasonable man. Go ahead and ring him up and tell him what you’ve found here. No need to tell him we saw it first.”

Grady nodded. “No, not at all. Not at all. Thank you, sir.”

“Before we go, you wouldn’t mind if we copied out what’s in the note, would you? Just so we can study it more later?”