A Merry Murder

by Kate Kingsbury

  Obviously annoyed with his wife, Sir Clarence coughed. “If you will excuse us, Mrs. Baxter? We are off to do a spot of Christmas shopping.”

  “Of course. If I may have just one moment more?” Cecily pulled the scarf from her pocket and dangled it in front of Lady Oakes. “Do you, by any chance, recognize it?”

  The woman stared at it for a moment, then shook her head. “I have never seen it before. It is not something I would care to wear.”

  Sir Clarence took hold of his wife’s arm, sounding harsh when he said, “Come, Penelope. We must be off.”

  Cecily couldn’t help noticing Lady Oakes wince at the contact. She tucked the scarf back in her pocket. “You have a carriage waiting for you?”

  “Actually, we shall be taking my motorcar.” With a curt nod at Cecily, Sir Clarence opened one of the doors and ushered his wife through it.

  Cecily stared at the closed doors for several seconds before returning slowly to the staircase. If she wasn’t mistaken, she told herself, Lady Oakes appeared to be nervous around her husband. In fact, she would even go so far as to say the good lady seemed fearful of him. They both appeared reluctant to admit they were acquainted with Percy, yet it was obvious they knew the man. Were they, perhaps, ashamed to be publicly included in Percy’s circle of acquaintances?

  There was something else—something that Cecily couldn’t quite recall. Something Lady Oakes had said. She tried in vain to remember what it was that was poking her mind, and finally gave up.

  It would come to her later. It always did. Most of the time, when she got a niggling notion in her head, it turned out to be something significant. She would just have to be patient and wait for it to surface.

  CHAPTER

  5

  Lilly picked up the hem of her skirt as she walked across the courtyard toward the stables, her gaze fixed to the ground. Charlie was a good manager, and he kept the yard clean, but she never knew if he’d missed something and the last thing she needed was to step into horse dung. She’d done that once and it made her sick having to clean it off her shoes.

  Tiny flakes of snow drifted down past her nose, and she wondered if they’d have snow on the ground by tomorrow. It always seemed more like Christmas when the pavements and trees were covered in white. She loved to see the branches bowing under the weight of the snow.

  The horses didn’t like it, though. They always snorted a lot when Charlie brought them out onto the cold, wet stuff. Lilly smiled to herself, picturing the horses stamping impatiently in front of the carriages. She’d stamp herself if she had to tramp through all that mess.

  Reaching the stable door, she peered inside and wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t fond of the smell of horses and dried straw. At first, she couldn’t see anything but shadows, but then, as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw Henry bending beneath an open bonnet of a motorcar.

  She was about to call out when she noticed something else. Charlie was leaning against a stall, one hand in his pocket, the other clasping a rake. He was staring at Henry, and something about the way he was looking at the mechanic made Lilly’s pulse quicken.

  She stepped forward and called out, “Henry! Sir Clarence wants his motorcar right away. Mr. Baxter says to bring it around to the front steps.”

  At the sound of her voice, Charlie dropped the rake. Bending over to pick it up, he said gruffly, “Get a move on, Henry. Don’t keep the bloke waiting.”

  Henry straightened and slammed down the bonnet. “Right away, sir!”

  Lilly watched as Charlie carried the rake over to the rack and stood it up alongside the other utensils. Then he headed toward the door. As he passed Henry, Lilly heard him mutter, “I keep telling you. Don’t call me sir. My name is Charlie.”

  Henry simply nodded, and without looking at Lilly, Charlie walked out into the courtyard and disappeared around the corner.

  Henry moved toward the silver blue motorcar at the end of the row and pulled a hand crank out from the back of it.

  Lilly hurried forward, calling out, “Henry, wait a minute.”

  Henry stared at her with wary eyes as she approached. “Watcha want?”

  “I think you need to know something.” Lilly lowered her voice and glanced at the open doorway of the stable before adding, “You know Charlie fancies you, don’t you?”

  “What?” Henry’s voice had risen several octaves. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I saw him watching you.” Lilly checked the doorway one more time before adding, “He had that look on his face.”

  “What look?”

  Lilly shrugged. “You know. That look a fellow gets when he’s smitten.”

  The shock on Henry’s face almost made Lilly laugh. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

  Lilly leaned forward and spoke slowly and deliberately. “It’s the look that says he wants to grab you and kiss you.”

  Henry uttered a cry of protest. “Don’t be daft. He never would dream of doing something like that.”

  “Oh, I think he’s dreaming all right. Dreaming about you.” Lilly crossed her arms. “You need to tell him the truth.”

  Henry’s face paled. “I can’t tell no one I’m a girl. I’ll lose my job. That’s why I haven’t told no one but you. No one will hire a girl mechanic. My dad is ill and can’t work. I need this job.”

  “I know.” Lilly reached out and patted Henry’s shoulder. “But if you go to madam and tell her all about your problem, I know she’ll understand. Mr. Baxter might have a hard time with it, but madam will set him straight. She did that for me when I told her about my problem.”

  Henry’s expression changed to one of curiosity. “What is your problem? I know you’ve mentioned it before, but why won’t you tell me what it is?”

  Lilly hesitated. Only madam and Mr. Baxter knew the truth about her predicament. She’d told herself it was safer not to tell anyone else, but keeping a secret like that was hard, and it would be so good to be able to share it with someone.

  Someone like Henry, who was also struggling with a secret.

  Once more she studied the empty doorway before lowering her voice and saying, “I have to ask you to keep it a strict secret if I tell you. You can’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Promise?”

  Henry eagerly nodded. “Course I promise. After all, you’re keeping my secret.”

  “Okay, then.” Lilly took a deep breath. “I was married once.”

  Henry looked disappointed. “Is that all? What happened to him? Did he die?”

  Lilly shivered. “No, but I wish he would have. He beat me. Almost killed me. He told me if he couldn’t have me, he’d cut up my face so badly no one would ever look at me again.”

  Henry mouth trembled. “Oh, Lord. I’m so sorry.”

  Lilly sighed. “I was terrified of him, but too afraid to leave in case he came after me. But then one day, after he’d slammed me against a wall, I decided I was going to die anyway if I stayed there. I waited until he was asleep that night and I left. I hitched a ride on a milk cart and eventually ended up here.”

  Henry nodded. “So how did you get this job?”

  “I heard they were looking for maids here, so I asked for a job. I told madam what I’d done and she told me she and Mr. Baxter would protect me.” Lilly uttered a soft sigh. “They’re good people, Henry. They would understand, I know they would.”

  Henry’s mouth thinned. “No, I can’t take the risk. And you can’t say nothing. You promised!”

  “I’ll keep it, too,” Lilly said, “but you need to watch out for Charlie. Sooner or later he’s going to find out, and he’ll go to madam. It would be better for you if you got to her first.”

  Henry’s eyes filled with despair. “I’ll think about it.” One thin hand reached up to pull the cap farther down. “Just don’t say nothing to no one.”

  Lilly nodded.
“All right. Now you’d better hurry up and get that motorcar over to the steps, or Sir Clarence will be complaining. He’s a surly one, that one.”

  She watched Henry lean down to fit the crank into the front of the motorcar, then hurried out of the stable into the chilly courtyard. She’d already spent far too long talking to the mechanic. Mrs. Chubb would probably pounce on her the minute she got back to the kitchen.

  Still thinking about Henry, she lifted her skirt and sprinted across the hard ground toward the kitchen door. It was only by chance she’d found out that Henry was really a girl in disguise, keeping up the pretense because she was convinced no one would hire a female mechanic.

  Lilly just wished Henry would tell madam the truth, because she knew Charlie well. If he ever found out, he’d be so embarrassed and cross that he’d been taken in by a girl pretending to be a boy, he’d most likely sack her on the spot, and Henry would lose her job.

  True, there weren’t many people who would hire a girl to take care of their motorcars, but Henry knew all there was to know about them. She was as good as any lad at the job; madam would see that and keep her on, and Charlie would have no say in the matter.

  Coming to a breathless halt at the door, Lilly wrestled with the problem. She’d promised Henry she’d keep her secret, but she knew madam and Mr. Baxter better than Henry did. Maybe she should tell them the truth about their mechanic.

  It would be breaking her promise, true, but she would be saving Henry her job, and that’s what mattered. Henry would have to forgive her after that.

  Wouldn’t she?

  * * *

  • • •

  The orchestra at the Grand Ball was in full swing when Cecily arrived later that evening on the arm of her husband. Baxter looked suave and elegant in his formal black dress coat and gray striped trousers. He’d reluctantly agreed, at his wife’s request, to forgo the usual gray vest, although he drew the line at substituting it with a red one. Instead he wore a dark green vest, trimmed with just a hint of gold braid, and finished off the ensemble with a black bow tie.

  Cecily had chosen to wear her favorite blue silk gown, with white lace trim and sequins sprinkled here and there. She wore blue and white feathers in her hair, and diamonds sparkled from her ears.

  She was delighted to see her friend Madeline Prestwick seated near the windows and talking quite earnestly with her husband, Dr. Kevin Prestwick. Madeline was dressed unconventionally in a simple flowing gown in a vivid pattern of roses, violets, and numerous other blossoms. As usual, her feet were bare, encased in open-toed gold sandals. Her unbound dark hair hung over her shoulders, with a sprig of holly to hold the heavy strands away from her face.

  It was no surprise to Cecily to see some of the scandalized glances cast her friend’s way from the fashionably clad ladies circling the floor, though for the most part, some of the gentlemen seemed fascinated by the aura of abandonment.

  Cecily smiled as she made her way around the room while Baxter paused to exchange a few words with one of the footmen. The young man, apparently bemused by the spectacle of so many stately aristocrats in his presence, was neglecting his duty. Instead of serving the guests with his loaded tray of hors d’oeuvres, he stood staring at the dancers as if mesmerized.

  Cecily had no doubt her husband would set the footman straight, and left him to do just that as she headed toward Madeline’s table.

  Her friend broke off her conversation and looked up with a smile as Cecily reached her. “My dear Cecily!” She held out a slim hand to touch Cecily’s arm. “You look magnificent.”

  “Thank you, and you look exquisite, as always.”

  The doctor had sprung to his feet at the sight of her and, with a smile and a nod, offered her an empty chair.

  Cecily seated herself, murmuring, “This music is so lively. I’d like to dance, but I’m not sure I could keep up with the rhythm of it.”

  Madeline’s tinkling laugh rang out. “Why, Cecily, you have more energy than most of these privileged damsels put together. Only you could suffer all the trauma of running a hotel and still look fresh and vigorous at the end of the day.” Her expression sobered. “By the way, I’m so sorry you have another unfortunate incident on your hands. Kevin told me what happened today. I do hope it won’t cause too much chaos for the Christmas season.”

  Cecily sighed. “It’s not as if we’re a stranger to upheavals like this, but I do wish it wouldn’t happen so close to the festivities.” She glanced at Kevin. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from P.C. Northcott? I rang him earlier to tell him that our”—she paused, and lowered her voice—“that our mysterious guest had been seen frequenting the Bond Street gentleman’s club in London. He told me he would contact them. I would have rung them myself but I doubt they would give me any information.”

  Kevin gave her a wry smile. “You’re probably right. They are far more likely to talk to a police constable.”

  “I imagine he has also spoken with Mazie’s family by now. I’m wondering if she’s been located.”

  Kevin sent a quick glance around the room. “I haven’t heard from him, but I’ll finish conducting my postmortem tomorrow, and I’ll speak to him after that.”

  “You will give me a ring if there is any news?” Cecily glanced at Madeline. “Sam is notoriously slow in giving me information.”

  “That’s most likely because he knows you will take that information and charge off to do your own investigating.”

  Cecily was about to answer her friend when she saw Madeline’s eyes clouding over. Sensing what was coming, she turned to the doctor. “Kevin, dear, would you be an angel and tell my husband I am waiting for some sustenance? I haven’t eaten since midday.”

  “Of course.” Kevin jumped to his feet and marched off with his long stride to where Baxter still stood quietly scolding the footman.

  The second he was out of earshot, Cecily turned back to Madeline, who sat very still, her gaze focused on something far off in the distance.

  Cecily knew that her friend was in one of her trances, and there wasn’t much she could do except wait for whatever the woman had to say.

  Most of the villagers of Badgers End were convinced that Madeline was a witch. She had extraordinary healing powers, using only herbs and wildflowers, much to her husband’s discomfort. Her skills, pitted against the doctor’s alliance with science, had been a bone of contention between them that had threatened their relationship at times.

  Madeline’s reputation for providing some of the male population with remedies for certain delicate matters did nothing to improve the situation. Add to that her propensity to foretell the future with alarming accuracy, and it was a miracle that the two of them had any marriage at all. As far as Cecily could tell, however, their union appeared to be on solid ground, no doubt aided by the birth of their daughter, Angelina.

  “You must take extra care,” Madeline said in a deep voice quite unlike her own.

  Cecily jumped. “I usually do.”

  “All is not as it seems. You will face danger from an unexpected source.”

  Well, that was nothing out of the ordinary, Cecily reflected. Over the years she had faced many dangers, but had always managed to escape them relatively unscathed. “Can you tell me where or when?”

  Madeline slowly shook her head. “That is why I say it will be unexpected. Even you won’t know from which direction it will come.”

  “Well, thank you for the warning. I’ll do my best to stay on guard.”

  “Beware of the beast that flies.”

  Cecily stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

  At that moment Kevin spoke from behind her, making her jump. “Your refreshments are on the way.” He appeared at her side. “Baxter will join you shortly.”

  With Madeline’s warning still ringing in her ears, Cecily glanced at her friend, who sat rearranging the holly in the gold bow
l in front of her. She had apparently returned to her normal state as she smiled at her husband. “Kevin, my sweet, I would dearly love to dance.”

  “Of course.” Kevin held out his hand to assist his wife to her feet. If he felt any qualms about taking the floor with such an unorthodox creature, he showed no sign of it. The doctor’s love for his wife surpassed all concern for propriety, or the lack of it. Madeline was an individualist, and he embraced it with as much enthusiasm as he was able, considering his stature in the village.

  Cecily greatly admired him for that. Not everyone could spit in the face of the aristocracy with such elegance and control. She had in the past rebelled herself against the rules of social conduct, and paid dearly for it at times. She envied Kevin’s cavalier attitude toward those who looked down on his choice of life partner, and heaven help anyone who voiced their opinion in his presence. He would leap in defense of his wife with all the fury of an enraged lion.

  As had Baxter upon occasion, when his wife had received less-than-complimentary remarks on her attitude. Cecily glanced across the room and smiled as her husband approached, followed by the chastened footman bearing a tray of delectable treats from Mrs. Chubb’s kitchen.

  She had chosen well when she married her manager. When her first husband had died, she thought never to love again. Her romance with Baxter had grown slowly, but was all the more abiding because of it. He was everything to her, and she couldn’t imagine life without him.

  He reached her chair and touched her shoulder with his fingertips before seating himself. The footman offered her the tray, and she spent a brief moment deciding between a sausage roll and a shrimp canapé. Giving up the battle, she pointed to them both, and the footman deftly picked each one up with his tongs and deposited them onto the gold-edged plate in front of her.

  “Thank you.” She smiled up at him, and was rewarded with a nervous grin and a slight bow in return.

  After placing Baxter’s choices on his plate, the footman glided off to the next table, where a group of guests sat loudly laughing.