“Thank you, but I can manage.”
And Janine could dry her pretty little eyes. Lavinia rather hoped the doctor’s daughter would come by while she was waiting, so that they could straighten things out then and there, but she didn’t. No matter. It wouldn’t take long, once she got her feet back under her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tetsy came to Dr. LaFronde’s infirmary alone.
“Ready, Lav? Zilpha couldn’t come. Has to stay and keep an eye on the workmen. Awful mess to clean up. Awful mess!”
Tetsy was in a strange mood today, twitching and shying like a nervous mare. From the breath on her, she must have breakfasted on port wine. Surely the woman had never done this much drinking before. Much as she had reason to dislike Tetsy, Lavinia couldn’t help feeling a twinge of compassion.
“This has all been dreadfully hard on you, hasn’t it?”
“Never should have come back,” the companion mumbled.
“Back?” That was an odd word to use. “What do you mean, back?”
“After that time with old Jenks.”
“Why? What happened? Was he nasty to you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Nevertheless, Miss Mull could not leave the subject alone. “I knew it would never work out, but Zilpha wouldn’t listen. Once she’s set her mind on something, the devil and all his angels couldn’t make her let go.”
“I know,” sighed Lavinia.
That was a mistake. Tetsy turned on her so savagely that the Packard almost went into the ditch.
“You’re a fine one to talk! Prowling around where you were told not to go, stirring up trouble for everybody.” The older woman caught herself and, surprisingly, apologized. “Oh, pay no attention to me, Lav. I’m so worn out I can’t think straight.”
“I understand.” Lavinia could be humble, too, and probably ought to be, all things considered. “I realize I’ve made a lot of extra trouble, and I’m truly sorry. Just try to bear with me a little while longer. You’ll be going back to Boston pretty soon, and I’ll be staying in Dalby. Then you and Zilpha can go on doing all the things you enjoy and forget this ever happened.”
“Oh, my God, if I only could!”
What on earth was ailing the woman? Nobody had drowned. The house was still standing. The thorn in her side would soon be removed. Why was she carrying on as if the world were falling around her ears? Not knowing what to say, Lavinia had sense enough to keep quiet. After a while, Tetsy herself broke the silence.
“Have you told Zilpha?”
“Not yet. I will, as soon as I get a chance. Honestly, Tetsy. Don’t worry, everything is going to work out for the best.”
“I wish to Heaven I could believe that!”
Tetsy didn’t say any more, and Lavinia was grateful. She was feeling weaker than she’d thought she would, even though Dr. LaFronde’s nurse had given her a decent enough breakfast of farina and cream. Being driven in a motor car by a woman who was either drunk or starting a nervous breakdown was not the best way to start a convalescence.
It was shocking to watch Tetsy falling to pieces this way. She seemed to have aged even during the past week. Was she ill and refusing to admit it for fear of losing her place at Zilpha’s right hand? Lavinia tried to imagine her guardian without Miss Mull in attendance and found she simply couldn’t. She was unutterably relieved when they managed to navigate the lane without mishap and wind down into the Hollow.
“How strange it looks with the mill gone,” she observed. “I see they’ve got most of the wreckage carted away already. Look, there’s Zilpha bossing the job.”
“Wherever did you pick up that vulgar expression?” Tetsy sounded more like herself as she brought the Packard to a halt with one last, mighty jolt. “Need help getting down?”
“I think I can manage.”
Wobbly as she felt, she was probably steadier on her feet than her reluctant chauffeur. Lavinia gathered up her skirts and started a gingerly descent, but soon found she had more helping hands than she could use. Zilpha hurried over from the demolition site. Mrs. Smith emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Both the architects raced down from the drafting room.
“What are you doing here?” Clinton shouted. “I told Joe Devine to keep you at the infirmary.”
“Yes, but Dr. LaFronde put me out. He had a rush of patients and needed the bed. He says I’m not sick any more, so may I come back to work?”
“Indeed you may not!” cried Zilpha. “Lavvy, you must go straight to bed. I am sure Mrs. Smith will be delighted to assist you.”
Mrs. Smith looked far from delighted, but she took Lavinia by the arm and hustled her along to the freshly scrubbed bedroom behind the kitchen, with the rest trooping after. In the confusion, Hayward managed to get close to her and mutter, “Did LaFronde really give you a clean bill of health?”
“Yes, honestly, Hayward.”
“Then get her to let you lie out on the sofa or somewhere. Don’t stay back here alone.”
He was gone before she could do more than blink in reply, but she did her best to obey. “Oh, Zilpha, the doctor says I’m not to lie down. I have to keep my head up as much as possible. So that the blood can drain away from the wound,” she improvised, hoping it didn’t sound too absurd.
Fortunately, Zilpha swallowed her story. “To be sure, dearest! Tetsy, do you think the chaise longue or an easy chair and ottoman?”
“If I might just prop myself up on the sofa in the back parlor, I’d be able to watch out the window while you direct the work crew,” Lavinia offered.
“The very thing! Then you won’t feel lonely and neglected if one of us can’t be at your side every single minute. Tetsy, do you think the cashmere throw or the quilted satin?”
“Satin ought to be plenty, it’s such a warm day. I’ll go arrange the pillows, shall I?”
“Yes, do. I must get back to those men before they bury that horrid pile of rubbish right where I’m going to want my asparagus bed. You simply cannot imagine what I’ve been through this morning, trying to keep them from ruining what’s left of the lawn.”
Zilpha danced away. Tetsy gazed after her with an expression of awe.
“There’s not another woman like her in the world. Not one.”
Mrs. Smith, occupied with taking off Lavinia’s wraps, made no comment. Her hands were so rough they caught on the cloth, and she smelled of lye soap and kitchen grease. What did she think of these hardworking rich ladies from the city?
“Please don’t bother, Mrs. Smith,” Lavinia protested. “I’m sure you have better things to do than wait on someone who’s quite capable of attending to herself.”
Old Jenks’s niece paid no attention whatever. She got Lavinia’s dress off, put her into a fresh morning gown, and led her back to the parlor, all without saying a word. When the unwilling patient was ensconced on the sofa, wrapped in the satin throw and propped up on velvet pillows, she went back to her scrubbing bucket.
By that time, Lavinia would have been glad of a little neglect, but she was not to have it. Roland Athelney reappeared, hat in hand.
“I came to keep you company for a while. Miss Tabard says it’s all right.”
“But shouldn’t you be up at the shop, working? What about those plans for the Colwell job?”
“Hay sent me down here. He says this is more important. I can’t think why.” The good-looking architect sounded a bit peevish. “But of course I’m happy to be of service,” he added hastily. “Miss Tabard suggested I might read to you.”
“That would be nice.”
Lavinia detested being read to, but listening was easier than trying to make conversation. Whatever possessed Hayward to chase Roland down here on a busy morning? It was obvious he’d rather be back among his water pipes. Nevertheless, the pair of them settled down with a volume of Ruskin and resigned themselves to being elegantly edified.
Mercifully, the agony was not prolonged. After a while, Zilpha and Tetsy cam
e in to prepare lunch. Finding dear Roland still plugging away at The Stones of Venice, they invited him to join them. From then on, the three of them had a lovely time while Lavinia picked at a tray on the sofa and yearned for her lard pail. It was getting on for two o’clock before the last compliment was exchanged and the teacups cleared away. Then Zilpha put down her napkin with an air of sudden decision.
“Lavvy, dearest, since Roland is here to keep you company, would you mind terribly if Tetsy and I deserted you for an hour or so? I thought we might just tootle down to the village and look up that capable seamstress Mrs. Smith has told us about. We simply must begin giving serious thought to the lambrequins for the upstairs mantelpieces. I’m sure Mrs. Smith will consent to stay here until we return, in case you require attention.”
No doubt Mrs. Smith had already consented. In any event, Lavinia was only too pleased to agree.
“Of course you mustn’t stay home on my account. It’s a lovely day for a drive and I’m feeling fine now. Truly, Zilpha.”
After the usual flurry of making lists, finding gloves and handbags, tying on veils and buttoning dustcoats, the ladies were off. With a barely hidden sigh, Roland picked up The Stones of Venice.
“Roland,” said Lavinia firmly, “I simply must not keep you here one minute longer. Dr. LaFronde said I was to take a nap after lunch.” This was pure fabrication. “So you might as well get back to the shop.”
He didn’t need coaxing. Grateful to be alone, Lavinia went to her room, put on a skirt and shirtwaist, thinking that being dressed might make her feel really well. It didn’t work, however, and she made her way back to the sofa, lay down, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t feeling so brisk as she’d been trying to pretend. A nap might not be such a bad idea, after all.
However, she didn’t get one. She’d barely got the pillows arranged to her satisfaction when somebody bellowed in her ear.
“Where’s Ath?”
“He went back to the drafting room. Didn’t you see him?”
“I haven’t been there yet. I just got back from the job site. Damn it, I told him not to leave you!”
Hayward’s roar ended in a gigantic sneeze. Lavinia gaped at him.
“But why should he stay here when there’s work to be done? Surely you don’t think I need a—a watchman?”
“After all you’ve been through?” He swabbed at his nose wrathfully. “I thought I could trust Ath to look after you.”
“Why?”
He blew his nose again. “Well, seeing as how you and he—”
Lavinia sat up and grabbed him by the lapels, her eyes blazing.
“If you think there’s any me and Ath, you’d better think again, Mister Clinton! It’s Ath and Zilpha Tabard’s niece, and he doesn’t even realize there’s no such person. If Roland cared two pins about me, he’d have been out there yesterday instead of you, risking his death of cold to prove I hadn’t lost my mind. And if I gave a hoot about him, he wouldn’t bore me stiff, which he does. Now, do you understand that much?”
“I guess so,” he mumbled.
“Good. Then as soon as we’re both able to travel, I suggest you and I invite Roland and Janine LaFronde to go with us to the band concert. Then everybody can see who belongs with which.”
Over the top of his handkerchief, the ginger cat’s eyes began to shoot green sparks. “I’ve got a better idea. Let’s you and I go by ourselves, and sneak off into the bushes as soon as they begin the overture.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
As soon as the words were out, Hayward turned flaming scarlet. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re not that kind of girl.”
“I don’t know,” Lavinia answered truthfully. “I’ve never had a chance to find out. Hayward, do you really think of me that way?”
“I’ve had a hard time thinking of anything else, ever since that first night when you waltzed in here with your hair down your back and a smudge on the end of your nose. Then when Ath began squiring you around—”
“He hasn’t been squiring me around! He’s just making up to Zilpha. You’re the one who brought the sandwiches.”
“Is that so important?”
“Of course it is!” Suddenly overcome with shyness, Lavinia began pleating the edge of the satin throw between her lacerated fingers. “Hayward, you know I have nothing to offer you. I told you that from the beginning.”
“The heck you haven’t.” He captured the fumbling hands in his own. “We’re going to make out fine, kiddo, you and I. You can trust me.”
“I know I can. I do, Hayward.”
She turned her face up to his, then quickly drew away.
“Somebody’s coming!”
Clinton grunted. “Must be Joe Devine. Trust him to show up when he’s least wanted.”
“What’s he here for?”
“That scrap of paper you told him about. Did you find it?”
“I haven’t had a chance to look. I’ll go this instant.”
“Wait till Joe comes in. We might as well all go together.”
Mrs. Smith looked up from the sink in astonishment a few minutes later as two men followed Lavinia through the kitchen and into the back bedroom.
“Joe, whatever are you here for?”
“Doin’ my job, Nellie. Is it there, Miss?”
Lavinia reached into the wardrobe and fumbled in the pocket of her bedraggled golf skirt. “Yes, here it is.”
She handed him the smudged fragment of wrapping paper. “You see what I mean about the date?”
“Couldn’t be clearer.”
Devine laid the rubbing on the dresser and stood shaking his bald head over it.
“Where did you get that?”
The housekeeper was standing in the doorway, wringing her work-ruined hands. “How could you—”
“So it was you who took my rubbing,” said Lavinia slowly. “Wasn’t that rather silly of you, Mrs. Smith?”
“I had to!” whispered Jenks’s niece.
Joe Devine picked up the damning piece of paper, keeping his eyes fixed on the woman’s face. “Nellie, you’re not goin’ to tell me your boy Peter had sense enough to carve up his great-great-granddaddy’s gravestone like this?”
“No, it wasn’t Peter.” She ran her tongue over dry lips. “Peter never did that.”
“He done something else, though, didn’t he?”
She did not answer.
“Didn’t he, Nellie?”
“Joe, do you think I’d ever answer that?”
“No, I don’t s’pose you would. But, hell, Nellie, you’ve got to face facts.”
“And have you put him away? Joe, you can’t take Peter away from me. He’s all I have left.”
Jonah Josiah Jenks’s niece sank into the low slipper chair, not crying, just staring down at the handsome old hard pine floor she had scrubbed so often for no reward. The constable, watching her, wiped a shirtsleeve across his forehead.
“Nellie, tell me the truth. Did you see Peter kill your uncle?”
“No!”
“What did you see?”
“Just—Uncle lying there.”
“How was he lying, Nellie?”
“On his face.”
“Whereabouts?”
“Foot of the cellar stairs.”
“Couldn’t he have missed his footing and fell?”
“No.”
“What made you so sure?”
“Joe, I won’t tell you.”
“Nellie, you damn well better.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Nellie, for the love of the Lord! You’re still a young woman. You can’t go ’round for the rest of your life with this awful thing eatin’ you up inside. Nellie, listen to me. There’s people in Dalby that cares about you. You’re one of our own. How do you think me and Louella and the rest of your neighbors feel, watchin’ you turn into an old woman before your time? Look at me, Nellie! I’m not some tough county sheriff you never seen before. I’m Joe Devine that sat behind you
in grammar school. Can’t you trust me to treat you right?”
Mrs. Smith looked up into the kind, anxious face.
“All right, Joe,” she said tonelessly. “The Lord have mercy on me if I do harm to my boy.”
“Go on, Nellie. What did you see?”
She began to talk then, forcing out her breath in sudden gasps, as though, having at last made her decision, she couldn’t get rid of the dreadful secret fast enough.
“Uncle had finally got around to giving the kitchen a lick of paint. He’d been putting it off for years, till even he couldn’t stand the filth any longer. Green paint he was using, that he’d had left over from some job or other, no doubt. Peter was hanging around watching him when we left. I’d brought him over for Uncle to keep an eye on because he had such an awful cold he wasn’t fit to go out and Ted was all fired up to go over to the ice races on the excursion wagons. I didn’t dare let Ted go without me for fear he’d get drunk and bet away all the house money. Uncle never minded having Peter with him, long as he behaved himself.”
“Never mind that, Nellie. What about the paint?”
“Peter must have got into it. I noticed the smears around the cellar door soon as I walked into the house after we got back. I’d been nagging at Uncle to fix that door so’s it wouldn’t come unlatched and swing open every time a person walked past. ‘You’re going to fall down those stairs and hurt yourself bad,’ I kept telling him. I must have said it a thousand times, but he never listened. He never paid any attention to me. All those years, he never listened to one word I said.”
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