Herald Of Death

by Kate Kingsbury

  Recognizing her maid, Cecily gestured at the stage. “What on earth is Pansy doing up there, anyway?”

  “She’s taking Becky’s place.” Phoebe threw up her hands in despair. “Poor child is in bed with a nasty case of ague, and Pansy is the only one I know who isn’t too heavy for the wires. Clive made it very clear that only lightweight people should fly. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “She’s all right,” Doris called down from the stage, before Cecily could answer. “She’s waking up.”

  Cecily walked up to the stage, where a white-faced Tinker Bell was sitting up. “Are you hurt, Pansy?”

  The maid shook her head. “No, m’m. I just feel stupid, that’s all.”

  Phoebe appeared by Cecily’s side. “Well, you could hardly know how to fly on those wires without someone showing you how to do it. I’ll have Clive come by and teach you. If he can teach Deidre how to do it he can teach anyone.”

  “Here!” Deirdre complained, but Phoebe took no notice of her.

  “Stand up, child,” she ordered. “Let’s make sure you didn’t break anything.”

  Pansy stood, holding on to Doris’s shoulder for support. “I’d like to try it again, Mrs. Fortescue. I think I can do it.”

  “Not until Clive has shown you how to fly.” Phoebe straightened her hat. “We’ll do the rest of the rehearsal without Tinker Bell on the wires.” She clapped her hands. “Places, everyone!”

  Reassured, Cecily drew back from the stage and waited by the windows for the twins to appear. Staring out at the gathering dusk, she was happy to see that almost all of the snow had melted from the lawns. That meant the roads would be clear for travel.

  Thinking of the snow reminded her of her conversation with the colonel. The poor man must have been freezing. It was a miracle Clive and Kevin had found him. He really wasn’t safe to be outside on his own.

  It was just as well he hadn’t had a sword out there, slicing at a poor pheasant. He could have injured himself quite badly. Both he and the pheasant had had a lucky escape. She could only hope the colonel didn’t take a shotgun into the woods. Goodness knows what he would shoot at out there.

  Cecily stared at the grassy slopes leading down to the trees. Imagining the colonel shooting at pheasants had brought another image to mind. Henry Farnsworth had been shooting pheasants when he was killed.

  She frowned, wondering why that seemed significant. Was it something that was said during her conversation with Lady Marion? Behind her, the children were singing a ragged chorus, and she tried to shut them out in order to focus on whatever her muddled brain was trying to tell her.

  Apart from heaping praise, Lady Marion hadn’t said much about her gamekeeper. Most of the conversation had been about Thomas Willow and the shoe shop.

  The noise from the stage had become distracting. The twins were front and center, singing their hearts out. She waited long enough for the song to end, then hurried out of the ballroom and headed once more for the library. She needed silence and time alone to think.

  To her relief, the library was empty when she entered. The Christmas tree caught her eye, and she wandered over to admire the purple glass grapes and gold-edged pears her talented friend had added to the branches.

  The absence of angels disturbed her, reminding her of the formidable problems facing her. Madeline had been careful to omit candles from the tree as well. Another bad omen to haunt her.

  She could still remember the Christmas when the candles had caught the tree alight, filling the room with smoke. The locked door preventing her escape. The awful smell of burning, the heat overcoming her…

  Once more the feeling of recognition nudged her. She shook her head, forcing out the memory. That had nothing to do with Thomas Willow and the shoe shop.

  She moved closer to the fire, holding her hands out to the warmth. Lady Marion had said she felt sorry for Lester. It must have been a shock for the assistant to find out the shoe shop was in debt. Especially since he must have been hoping to repay his gambling debts.

  Cecily caught her breath. She could see in her mind the musty little parlor in the back of the shop. What if…? Her thoughts raced on, piecing everything together.

  She had more shopping to do and a gown to fetch from Caroline Blanchard. Tomorrow she would pay a visit to Willow’s shoe shop. She had an idea that she would find the answers there that had so far eluded her.

  Gertie was piling serving dishes onto the dumbwaiter when Pansy rushed into the kitchen.

  “You’re late.” Mrs. Chubb threw a clean apron and cap at her. “Get these on and get up to the dining room. Lizzie is already serving supper up there.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Chubb.” Pansy fastened the apron around her waist and tugged the cap on her head. Fishing in her frock pocket she found two hairpins and stuck them into the cap to hold it in place.

  She kept signaling Gertie with her eyebrows, trying to let her know she had something terribly important to tell her.

  Gertie merely flipped her eyebrows up and down in answer, and Pansy had to hold in her excitement until after supper had been served and she could finally get back to the kitchen.

  Mrs. Chubb and Gertie were alone when Pansy burst out with her news. “Guess what!” she said, as both women stared at her in expectation. “I’m going to be in the pantomime!”

  Gertie frowned. “I know, you already told us you were going to help Doris with her costumes.”

  “No, no.” Pansy danced over to her and grasped her arm with both hands. “I’m going to be in the pantomime. I’m playing Tinker Bell!”

  There was a moment of shocked silence, then both Gertie and Mrs. Chubb burst out laughing.

  “Yeah,” Gertie said, “and I’m going to be Peter Pan.”

  Pansy shook her arm. “No, really I am. Ask Mrs. Fortescue. She’ll tell you. No, ask Clive. He’s going to teach me how to fly on the wires tonight.”

  Gertie’s face was rigid with disbelief. “Go on!”

  Pansy jumped up and down in her excitement. “I’m wearing this lovely filmy costume with wings and everything, and I don’t have to learn any lines so it wasn’t hard at all to know what to do, and I’m going to be flying all over the stage, so you’ll have to come and see me.” She looked at Mrs. Chubb. “Both of you!”

  Mrs. Chubb looked worried. “You’re going to fly?”

  “Yes, it’s all right, Clive will teach me how.” Pansy skipped around the kitchen table. “I tried it this afternoon, but I turned upside down so now I have to learn how to stay upright. Deirdre said it’s easy so-”

  Mrs. Chubb interrupted her. “Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

  “Not if you know what you’re doing.” Pansy skipped up to her. “I’m going to perform on the stage. I can’t wait to tell Samuel.” She glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I have to go now. Clive is waiting for me in the ballroom.”

  “What about the dishes?” Gertie gestured at the sink. “They all have to be washed and dried.”

  “I’ll do it after I learn how to fly.” She rushed to the door, looked back at their doubtful faces, and added, “I’m going to be a star!”

  “Oh, gawd,” Gertie muttered. “That’s all we bloody need.”

  Pansy paid no attention. Her mind was fully focused on the lesson ahead, and she could think of nothing else.

  Clive hadn’t arrived yet when she got to the ballroom. Alone in the vast room, she climbed up onto the stage and surveyed the expanse of floor in front of her.

  On the night of the performance the chairs would be lined up in neat rows in front of the stage and all the toffs would be watching her. Maybe even Samuel would come and watch her.

  The thought made her nervous. Maybe she should rehearse her curtsies, just so she didn’t fall over and look silly in front of everyone. She was perfecting her fourth curtsey when Clive spoke from in front of the stage.

  “Very nice. You look like a professional up there.”

  She beamed at him. “Really? You really think
so?”

  “Yes, I really think so.” He disappeared, only to appear a moment later in the wings. “Come over here. I have to hook you up to the wires.”

  She walked over to him, tingling with nervous excitement. He turned her around with gentle hands and fitted the harness she’d worn earlier over her shoulders and around her midriff.

  “Now,” he said, when he was done, “the trick is to arch your back and keep your head up. Like this.” He curved his back, stretched out his arms, and swooped them around as if he were flying. “Now let me see you do it.”

  Pansy copied him as best she could.

  “More,” Clive said, putting a hand against the middle of her back. “Stretch it out, right here.”

  He applied pressure, and she pushed her hips forward. “Like this?”

  “That’s it. Now I want you to run back and forth across the stage, feeling the pull of the wires. Don’t try to fly just yet, just get the feel of it.”

  She did as he asked, running back and forth while he called out, “Arch that back! Head up! Shoulders back!”

  Just as she was getting tired of it all, halfway across the stage she felt the wires tugging and her feet left the floor. She uttered a little shriek of surprise, and lost her posture for a moment.

  Clive called out to her, urging her to keep her head up, and then she was flying, swooping across the stage like a bird. At first she was scared, but gradually her fear melted away and she was having fun. No, it was more than that. It was the most thrilling experience of her life. She wanted it to go on forever.

  She felt a deep regret when Clive called out, “That’s enough!” Her feet touched the floor and she managed to land gracefully, though her body felt heavy and clumsy when she walked over to him.

  “That was so… so…” She couldn’t think of a word good enough to describe the sensation.

  Clive grinned. “You’re a natural,” he said, unhooking the wires from her back. “You’ll be a splendid Tinker Bell.”

  “Thanks to you.” She smiled up at him. She’d never noticed before, but he had a really nice smile. In fact, he was almost handsome in a rough sort of way. A big man, too. Big enough to tower over Gertie.

  Remembering her Christmas wish for her friend, Pansy decided to seize the chance to make it come true. “I was wondering what to give Gertie for a Christmas present,” she said, struggling to take off the harness. “Do you have any ideas?”

  Clive raised his eyebrows. “Me? I don’t really know what she likes.”

  Pansy pretended to think. “Well, I know what she wants, but I don’t think I can get it for her.”

  To her relief, Clive took the bait. “What does she want, then?”

  Pansy leaned closer. “Well, don’t tell her I told you, but she’s lonely. She wants to meet someone nice who will love her and take care of her and the twins.”

  Clive got a really strange expression on his face. “Oh, she does, does she? That’s a bit of a tall order for a Christmas present.”

  Pansy heaved a loud sigh. “Yeah, I know. I would love to get it for her, but I suppose I’ll have to make do with handkerchiefs or something.”

  “Probably.” Clive’s voice sounded funny and he cleared his throat. “Well, I have to be off. I have to make my rounds before turning off all the lamps.”

  “Oh, all right.” Pansy smoothed down the ruffles in her frock caused by the harness. “Thank you so much, Clive. That was really nice of you to teach me to fly.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” Clive touched his forehead with his fingers. “Give my regards to Gertie.”

  “Oh, I will!” Pansy tore off the stage and across the ballroom. Now to put into motion the second part of her plan. One way or another, she’d get Gertie and Clive together for Christmas. It was the very least she could do for her friend.

  CHAPTER 17

  “I had a lovely talk with Clive,” Pansy said, as she dragged a large china tureen from the soapy water.

  Gertie took it from her and stood it on the draining board. “Did he teach you how to fly?”

  “Yes, he did.” Pansy felt her face growing warm as she told Gertie about the lesson. “It was the most fantastic feeling, flying across that stage like I was a bird. I wish I could fly like that without wires. It must be so wonderful to be a bird, flying up into the sky and over the chimney tops without having to worry about falling down.”

  “There’s a machine you can fly in,” Gertie said. “I read about it in the newspaper. It said that one day people will be able to fly in it from one town to another without ever touching the ground.”

  “Go on!” Pansy stared at her, feeling a longing so strong it took her breath away. “Oo, how I’d love to do that!”

  “Well, maybe you will, one day.” Gertie held out her hand for the next dish. “But for now you’ll have to make do with wires, and if we don’t get these dishes done soon, all the lamps will be out in the hallways and we’ll be feeling our way along in the dark.”

  Speaking of the lamps reminded Pansy of her plan. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Clive said he needed new wicks in the main hallway lamps. I told him I’d take some up for him, save him coming all the way down here to the supply room. He’s late making his rounds tonight because of all the time he spent teaching me to fly.”

  “That was good of you.”

  “Yeah.” Pansy leaned down and rubbed her knee, screwing her face up as if in pain. “Only I hurt my knee when I landed wrong. I was wondering if you’d mind taking them up for me.”

  Gertie stacked two plates on the draining board and picked up the tureen. “Daisy’s going to kill me if I don’t get back there soon.”

  “I know, I’m really sorry, but Clive will be waiting for me and with this bad knee and all…”

  Vigorously polishing the tureen with a dry tea towel, Gertie rolled her eyes. “All right, I’ll go. But you’ll have to put this lot away before you go to bed.” She gestured at the dishes.

  “I will, I promise.” Pansy glanced at the kitchen clock. “You’d better go now, though. Clive will be wondering where I am.”

  Gertie threw down the towel and dragged off her apron. “I’m going. I’m going.” She waved a hand as she headed for the door. “G’night.”

  Pansy grinned and waved back. “Good night. Good luck!”

  Gertie gave her a puzzled look and disappeared.

  Pansy smiled as she lifted the last dish from the sink. She’d done her best to set the scene. Now it was up to Clive. She just hoped Gertie would appreciate her efforts when Clive invited her to go out with him.

  Humming to herself, she carefully piled the dishes into the cupboard. Now she could go to bed and dream she was flying. All by herself over the ocean and on to foreign lands. What an adventure that would be.

  Gertie stomped up the stairs, none too pleased at being cajoled into an errand that would make her late to relieve Daisy of her duties. Although, since Daisy had time off to go shopping earlier, it wouldn’t hurt her to stay up a bit longer.

  That wasn’t what was bothering her now, though. After what Doris had said about Clive being in love with her, she was feeling awkward about seeing him again. Especially being alone with him in the darkness of the halls, late at night. Just thinking about it gave her goose pimples.

  She was relieved to see that some of the lamps were still lit as she reached the foyer and crossed to the hallway. The long corridor leading to the ballroom was in darkness, however, and so far she’d seen no sign of Clive.

  Just as she was about to find her way down there, she heard a scuffling sound from close to the ballroom doors. Squinting, she peered into the black shadows, but couldn’t see anything moving.

  “Clive?” Her voice sounded loud, and a little shaky. She cleared her throat. “Are you there?”

  From inside the ballroom came the shuffling noise again. She tried not to think of golden angels and missing locks of hair. The Christmas Angel couldn’t possibly be in the Pennyfoot, could he? She remembered Li
zzie’s words, saying as how the killer went around chopping off people’s heads.

  Little rivers of fear trickled down her back. Don’t be bloody daft. It’s not the killer. She called out again. “Clive?”

  The scuffling stopped. The silence that followed was even more terrifying. Panic swept over her so suddenly she had no way to fight it. Uttering a yelp of fright, she dropped the box of wicks and spun around, intent on making it back to the foyer and the light. She charged forward and ran full tilt into a large, warm body.

  “Oof!” Clive’s voice spoke in her ear as his arms wrapped around her. “What the devil?”

  Warm with embarrassment, she shoved him away and backed off a few steps. “You bloody scared me to death,” she said, holding a hand over her heart. She could actually feel it pounding beneath her fingers.

  “What are you doing up here this time of night?”

  She peered up at him. He looked different against the flickering glow from the gas lamps behind him. Sort of dark and mysterious.

  She felt awkward again, and wished he would go back to being the familiar friend who’d always made her feel comfortable. “I brought you some wicks.” Remembering that she dropped them, she looked back behind her. “They’re down there somewhere.”

  “Wicks?”

  His voice sounded funny, and she frowned. “Yeah, wicks. Pansy said you needed some new ones and she hurt her knee so I brought them up instead.”

  “I see.”

  He still sounded strange. She turned back to look for the box, mumbling, “I wish I did.”

  “Never mind, Gertie. I’ll find them.” He came up behind her, and she flattened herself against the wall to let him pass.

  “Wait!” Suddenly remembering what had scared her in the first place, she grabbed hold of his sleeve. “I think there’s someone in the ballroom. I could hear him moving around. I thought it was you.”

  “In the ballroom? I’ll take a look. Wait here.”

  “Not on your bloody life. I’m coming with you.” She took a tighter hold of his arm. “I don’t want to be alone out here.”