The boy bit his lip and looked down at the floor. Then he turned his big blue eyes up to Drew. “Please excuse me for interrupting, sir. It was quite rude of me.”
Drew held back a smile at the carefully rehearsed speech and gave the child a nod. “Think nothing of it.”
Peter threw his arms around Drew’s legs, beaming at him. “Now can we find the kitty?”
“Peter!” Miss Winston gasped.
Drew had to turn his face away to keep from laughing outright. That would do nothing to help her efforts to teach the boy proper manners. Once he had assumed a suitably grave expression, he bent down to face the boy. “When Miss Winston and I have finished our conversation, Peter, we’ll see if we can’t get Mr. Chambers to come back and play, fair enough?”
Peter didn’t seem at all certain about the fairness of this arrangement, but he nodded and made no protest when Miss Winston took his hand and had him stand next to her again.
“Perhaps I had better get him back to the nursery and ready for his supper,” she said.
“Not quite yet, eh, Miss Winston?” came another voice.
“Daddy!”
Peter broke away from his nurse and ran to the parlor door.
Landis scooped up the boy, hugging him close and pressing a kiss to his fair hair. “And what is this, young man? I expected to find you in the nursery.”
“I came to see Mr. Chambers. He’s a white kitty and he lives in the house and I love him!”
Landis chuckled and carried the boy back into the parlor. “Good afternoon, Mr. Farthering. I trust we haven’t upset things too much already.”
“Not at all,” Drew said. “Peter and Mr. Chambers and I are already fast friends.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Landis,” Miss Winston said, a sudden tinge of fresh pink in her cheeks. “He got away from the girl who was looking after him while I was out.” She gave Peter a look of gentle reproof. “While he was supposed to be napping.”
Landis gave the boy a stern look and then turned to her, and her cheeks grew even pinker.
“I’m certain he won’t do it again.” Landis looked again at Peter. “He knows we must be on our best behavior while we are guests in Mr. Farthering’s home, right?”
Peter nodded, biting his lip.
“All right then, there’s my good boy.” Landis kissed his hair again and then handed him to his nurse. “Now off you go. I have some things to see to.”
“Will you come tell me good-night, Daddy?”
Miss Winston smiled hopefully. “It means a great deal. I mean, Peter always sleeps better after you’ve been by.”
Landis winked at the boy. “You behave yourself and no more running off, and I’ll come tuck you in later.” He turned to Drew. “It’s really very good of you to have us to stay while . . .” He glanced at Peter, who was watching him with bright eyes, taking in every word. “While there are difficulties.”
“I take it there has been nothing new on the matter,” Drew said.
“Nothing, no.”
Miss Winston watched him with sympathetic eyes but didn’t say anything.
Landis cleared his throat. “Well, I have a few things to see to before I dress for dinner. Peter, you behave now.”
The boy gave him a brilliant smile. “You betcha.”
“All right,” Landis said with a chuckle. “We were listening to an American program on the wireless a few weeks ago. It seems to have left an impression.”
“And after I’ve tried so hard to teach him to speak properly,” Miss Winston said. “Mr. Landis, you oughtn’t to laugh. It only encourages him.”
“Yes, I know, Miss Winston, I know.”
He tried to look contrite and failed miserably, and the nursemaid finally shook her head. “You’d better go tend to your business, sir. It wouldn’t do for you to be late to dinner your first night here.”
“Very true. If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Farthering.”
“I suppose we ought to get back up to the nursery,” Miss Winston said, once Landis had hurried off. “Tell Mr. Farthering thank you, Peter, for looking after you today.”
“Thank you, sir,” the boy said. “May I come play with you again?”
“Of course you may, Peter. Very soon.”
“Will Mr. Chambers come, too?”
“We’ll make certain of it. Now you have your supper and I will see you later.” He made a bow. “We’d be very pleased to have you join us for dinner too, Miss Winston. One of the maids can sit with Peter, if you like. I’m certain there won’t be another incident.”
“If it’s all right,” she said, looking flustered. “If you’re certain Mr. Landis—”
“He wouldn’t mind, would he?”
“No, I don’t mean that. Just, well . . .” A smile touched her lips. “I would be very pleased to come. Thank you again, Mr. Farthering.” She shifted the boy against her hip, getting a better hold on him. “We’ll try not to be such a nuisance in the future.”
She turned, carrying her charge away, and he looked at Drew over her shoulder, blue eyes wide and uncertain. Obviously he had no wish to be a nuisance.
Drew tapped the side of his nose and said in a stage whisper, “Mum’s the word, but I’ll bring Mr. Chambers up to the nursery to play for a bit before you go to bed. How would that be?”
Peter giggled and put one finger to his lips. “Shh. Winnie will hear you.”
She turned back to Drew, looking far more indulgent than stern. “If we eat all of our supper, including the vegetables, without a grumble, then we would very much enjoy another visit, Mr. Farthering.”
Drew gave her a nod as she carried Peter into the hallway.
“All the vegetables, Winnie?” came the plaintive little voice, and Drew laughed.
Twelve
Before he went to dress for dinner, Drew decided to make good on his promise and take Mr. Chambers up to play with Peter for a short while. He hadn’t been in the nursery for ages, but he felt a sudden fondness for the old place as he neared the door. He remembered it as bright and airy, full of cupboards and endless possibilities, and battered enough to be played in without too much scolding from the adults. It hadn’t been redone since. Fleur may have been rather particular about Peter’s playroom at home, but Drew wanted the boy to enjoy himself here at Farthering Place.
Drew paused as he reached the nursery door, holding Mr. Chambers against his shoulder. He heard Miss Winston’s voice and then Landis’s. After that, there was only a low laugh, hers, followed by the patter of little feet and Peter’s piping voice.
“Daddy, may I play with this pony?”
“I don’t know,” Landis said. “Perhaps we’d best ask before—”
“Oh, not at all,” Drew told them, stepping into the room. “You may play with any of the toys you find in the cupboards up here, Peter. You’re very welcome.”
“Mr. Drew!” The boy dropped Drew’s fondly remembered buckskin pony and ran to him. “You brought Mr. Chambers!”
“I most certainly did.” Drew pushed the door shut behind him and set the kitten on the floor. “Now, Mr. Chambers, be a gentleman and show our guest around.”
Mr. Chambers at once jumped up on the window seat, and Peter scrambled up after him, whispering to him until, purring, the kitten came to him and rubbed against his flannel nightshirt.
“Truly, Miss Winston,” Drew said, watching them, “he is welcome to anything he finds up here. I don’t believe it’s been much changed since Nick and I played here as boys, and I seem to remember no end of fun and no end of toys.”
“We brought a few of Peter’s favorites from home of course,” she said, “but little ones get bored very quickly. He’ll love exploring, I’m sure. Thank you.”
“Yes,” said Landis. “You’ve made us all feel quite at home. I don’t know how I shall ever repay you.”
“You’re all more than welcome,” Drew assured him.
He and Landis discussed a few business matters while Peter and Mr. Chambers played, an
d then Drew gave Landis a nod.
“The bell for dinner is at seven.” He picked up the kitten. “You do just as Miss Winston says, Peter, and get to bed when you’re told, and Mr. Chambers will come back and visit tomorrow. How is that?”
The boy smiled the dazzling smile he’d inherited from his mother. “I’ll be good, Mr. Drew.”
“Capital.” Drew leaned down a bit so Peter could pet the kitten one last time, and then he opened the door to the hallway. “Good night for now. We’ll see you again tomorrow.”
“Oh, there you are.” Nick leaned into the nursery. “I was just about to go dress. Your bride-to-be said that if I were to see you, I was to tell you not to be late and that you ought to invite Miss Winston to dinner if she would like.”
Drew nodded. “I trust you will still be joining us, Miss Winston?”
She looked at Landis, her face coloring. “I . . . I ought to just have something up here in the nursery—”
“Nonsense,” Drew said. “If you don’t come, we shall be one lady short at the table. That just won’t do.”
“Do say you’ll come, Miss Winston,” Nick urged. “Otherwise I’ll no doubt be sent off to the kitchen to beg for scraps.”
She fought a smile. “They wouldn’t do that.”
“There’s always a chance,” Nick said, perfectly solemn. “I don’t like to risk it.”
She pursed her lips and looked toward Landis once more.
“What?” He looked up absently from where he was chatting with his son. “Oh, certainly. You must come along, Miss Winston. Miss Parker and her aunt wouldn’t want to have an odd number at the table.”
“If you’re certain no one will mind, Mr. Landis,” the nursemaid said, and now there was a touch of pleasure in her eyes.
“Oh, no. You must come.”
She turned to Drew. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Farthering.”
“You’ll hear the bell.” Drew looked over at Landis. “Coming?”
“Of course. Good night, Peter. Say your prayers, and sweet dreams.”
The boy hugged him around the neck. “Mr. Drew says he has horses, Daddy. Will you take me to see one tomorrow?”
“I must go to my office tomorrow, son. We may have to wait until Saturday.”
“But maybe you can come home before it gets dark and we can go see the horses tomorrow?”
“Well, I . . .”
Drew chuckled at the eager expression on the boy’s face. “I doubt there would be much harm in knocking off work an hour or so early, would there, Landis? Anything urgent going on at the office?”
“Not much, no. What do you say, Peter? Shall we visit all the animals tomorrow? I think there are sheep and some cows. And if I heard properly, someone has a dog. Now you get a good night’s sleep or you will be too tired to go out tomorrow.”
“Will Mummy come, too?”
“No, Peter, I’m afraid not. Most likely she won’t have gotten back from her trip by tomorrow.”
Peter’s lower lip went out in a slight pout. “Doesn’t Mummy want to come home?”
“Of course she does.” Landis cuddled the boy closer. “More than anything.”
Miss Winston’s mouth tightened just a bit.
“When will she be home?” Peter asked. “Saturday?”
“Well, it might be Saturday,” Landis told him, “but it might not.” He kissed the top of his son’s head. “Now, be a brave soldier, Peter, and tomorrow we’ll go see the animals. How would that be?”
“Just you and me, Daddy?”
“That’s right. Just you and me.”
“Poor little thing,” Madeline said when, as they were going down to dinner, Drew told her about Peter’s questions about his mother. “Fleur doesn’t seem to be much of a mother to him anyway. You wouldn’t think he would miss her very much.”
“I know how he feels,” Drew said softly. “When I was a boy, I always wondered what was wrong with me and why my mother never seemed all that interested in me. Looking back, I guess she did rather a remarkable job of trying anyway. It doesn’t appear as though Mrs. Landis is doing as much with her son, and he is without a doubt her own child.”
She slipped her arm through his. “Have your lawyers still not found anything more about your mother, Drew?”
He shook his head. “Without even a name to go by, and after a quarter of a century, it seems rather unlikely we’ll find anything helpful. It’s unsettling, the not knowing, more than I thought it would be.” He pulled her closer to his side. “Perhaps we’ll look into it together sometime. Once we’re married, I see no reason why we couldn’t hop over to the Continent for a bit. You’d like Paris, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure I would,” she said, smiling, but then her smile faded. “What do you suppose you’ll discover? If you find her, I mean.”
He shrugged. “There’s no telling. All I ever heard was that she was an ordinary shopgirl in a place that sold hats on the Rue de la Paix. It could be she owns the shop by now. Or perhaps she’s married and has children, possibly grandchildren, of her own.”
“Could be.”
“Perhaps she’s passed on. She’s likely not very old, surely not more than fifty. But we have no guarantees of reaching a certain age, have we?”
“Do you think you’d know her, Drew?” Madeline stopped in the foyer and tilted her head, studying his face. “Yes, she gave birth to you, but you never once saw her after that. I don’t mean would you recognize her, but do you think there would be some kind of connection between you and your mother if you were to meet her? Do you think it matters after all this time?”
“I don’t know.”
He ran a hand through his hair. It was something he’d been wondering about ever since he learned that Constance Farthering Parker wasn’t in fact his natural mother. Knowing that explained a lot, about her and about himself, but not enough. Yet finding this Frenchwoman wouldn’t likely explain much more. The whole thing was maddening. He had to find out. He had to.
“I just don’t know,” he said again. “I hate to think of Peter going through the same thing one day concerning his own father.”
Madeline put both arms around him. “Maybe Peter will never know anything besides that Mr. Landis is his father.”
“Maybe,” Drew said. “But Ravenswood was a public personage. It’s almost bound to come out one day. And gossip can be so cruel, especially to the innocent.”
She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “At least Peter can be certain the father he knows loves him. Mr. Landis makes no secret of that.”
Drew smiled and started them walking again. “True enough, God bless him. And I hope you’re right. All Peter needs to know is that Daddy loves him, and Ravenswood need never come into it at all.”
Dinner that night, as well as the two nights after that, was quiet and pleasant. They didn’t discuss the case or Fleur. Convivial small talk was the order of the day, and Miss Winston turned out to be quite an interesting companion. Her comments were mostly directed to Madeline and Aunt Ruth, and she was surprisingly well educated and knowledgeable about current affairs.
“I didn’t expect that,” Drew admitted once the meal was over on Thursday night, glad he and Madeline finally had a moment alone. “Miss Winston, I mean. I shouldn’t have thought there’d be that much to her.”
“I feel bad for her,” Madeline said, her voice quiet.
“Why’s that, darling?”
Drew escorted her onto the balcony that overlooked the meadow and Farthering St. John in the distance. It was a fine night, even though a tad cold, and she snuggled against his side.
“She doesn’t have anyone in the world, and going on as she is, she isn’t likely to.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Drew said, holding her closer when she shivered. “She’s not entirely as she seems. Rather a wicked sense of humor for someone as naturally reserved as she appears to be. Not unkind but a bit pithier than I would have expected of her.”
Madeline’s mouth turned up on one side. �
�Better than being bitter, isn’t it?”
“Bitter? Why should she be bitter?”
“Well, being an old maid and all . . .”
Drew laughed. “You act as if she’s fifty rather than thirty. And even at fifty, who’s to say when one might meet one’s true love?”
“So you think even Aunt Ruth might find someone someday?”
“I do. He’d have to be a sharp fellow and always on his toes, but then again we wouldn’t want her settling for anything less, eh? But perhaps she doesn’t want anyone. She seems happy enough as she is. And better to be on one’s own than tied to the wrong spouse, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” Madeline looked up at him, biting her lower lip, eyes pensive. “Or to long for someone else’s.”
“Yes,” Drew said. “That’s also rather tragic. Even if one remains nobly silent on the issue.”
“Do you suppose he even knows?”
“Landis?” Drew shook his head. “As best I can tell, he’s pleased with her work and appreciates her fondness for the boy, but that’s all. He has seemed a bit surprised by her the past few days. I don’t suppose she generally takes dinner with the family. But with Mrs. Landis in the picture, he’s very unlikely to look at anyone else, eh?”
She shook her head slowly, her smile forced. “Men.”
“Now, now, darling. Not all men are dazzled by a pretty face.” He smirked. “Not forever.”
“And if I had looked more like Miss Winston than I do, would you have bothered to even talk to me?”
He felt a touch of color rise into his face, and he laughed faintly. He had promised to be honest with her. “Well, I can’t very well help it that you have the most glorious periwinkle eyes I’ve ever seen.”
Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks. “Drew, I mean it.”
He put one finger under her chin and turned her face up to him. “So do I. I won’t deny that I thought you were perfectly lovely the first time I saw you and your friends jammed into that little roadster that pulled up to the house. It was enough to interest me, to be sure, but if I hadn’t found you intelligent and kind and amusing and challenging and everything I hoped one day to find in a girl, none of the external things would have mattered. Mrs. Landis is quite possibly the most perfectly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but there is nothing about her that entices me anymore. Whether or not she’s a murderess, there is simply nothing in her soul that connects with mine.” He pulled her to him. “When I met you, it was truly as if I had found the other half of myself. I can’t explain it any better, darling. I can’t—”
Murder at the Mikado Page 15