A Gilded Grave

by Shelley Freydont

  “Well?”

  Neville entered and poured her a cup of coffee. “Thank you, Neville; you can leave the pot.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  As soon as he was gone, Cassie and Maddie both leaned forward.

  “Well,” Deanna said between bits of food, “Elspeth was so frightened last night that I made her sleep in my dressing room.”

  “We wondered,” Cassie said. “We stayed up waiting to find out what was happening, but Will Hennessey must have left without talking to mother.”

  “Perhaps he didn’t want to bother the family, considering your father’s illness.”

  “Oh, that must be it,” Cassie said, frowning slightly. “So, what did happen?”

  “All I know is that Swan got really sick and they called for an ambulance. I guess Will was on duty and came along with the others.”

  “Did they say what’s wrong with him?” Maddie asked. “We’re so worried about him. We didn’t even know that he’d been sent to the hospital until this morning.”

  “I suppose we’ll have to wait for Lord David to tell us. Because I certainly don’t know.”

  “Elspeth didn’t say anything more?” Cassie stuck out her lip. “The maids were talking that she stuck her fingers down his throat and made him—” She shuddered. “You know.”

  “Was it a stomach complaint?” Maddie asked. “Something he ate? Is he going to be all right?”

  “I have no idea. But Elspeth said he looked awfully bad and he was barely breathing.” Deanna took a bite of ham. She was feeling distinctly queasy just thinking about Elspeth’s heroics.

  “Did they find anything?” Madeline asked.

  Deanna stopped. “Like what?”

  “Like something he’d drunk or eaten?” Cassie said. “None of the other servants are sick.”

  “I don’t know. Elspeth didn’t say. Though I suppose if they had found something, she would have told me.”

  Madeline’s face grew even paler.

  “Madeline, are you feeling all right?” Deanna asked.

  Madeline nodded. “It’s just all so terrible. Swan has been with us for a long time. Things like this don’t happen in Barbados.”

  “Food poisoning?” Deanna asked innocently.

  “Or murder.”

  “Really? How amazing. I thought every place had murders . . . and murderers.”

  “Not where we live. Well, maybe the natives do, but I never hear about it. As soon as Swan recovers, I’m going to make David take me back home.”

  “Oh no. Not so soon. The season is just beginning,” Cassie said. Deanna added her halfhearted pleas to Cassie’s. But when Cassie began to enumerate all the parties and events they were invited to, Deanna pushed her chair back.

  “I have some errands to run this morning,” she told them. “I won’t need a carriage. I’ll walk. I’ll take Elspeth with me. I think she could use some fresh air, poor thing.”

  “Oh, yes, poor thing,” Cassie said. “Perhaps she’d feel better in one of the open carriages. No one is using the gig this morning.”

  “Thank you, but I need the exercise, even if Elspeth doesn’t.”

  “Well, don’t be long. We were going to Bailey’s this morning, but what with everything, Maddie decided she should stay here and wait for Lord David.”

  Deanna nodded sympathetically.

  “Couldn’t you stay here with us? Can’t your errands wait?”

  “No, I’m sorry, they can’t.” Deanna stood. “And now I must rush if I’m to be back in time to dress for tea. Is tonight the night of Mrs. Howe’s musical soiree?”

  “Yes, and don’t forget, tomorrow night is Gran Gwen’s mysterious fete.”

  “Oh, I won’t.” Deanna turned to Maddie. “Gran Gwen always has the most amusing gatherings. It will be such fun. And don’t worry, Madeline. I’m sure Swan will be better directly.”

  She didn’t wait for a response, and as she left, she heard Cassie still cajoling Madeline to stay for the season.

  Deanna and Elspeth set off down the cliff walk toward Bonheur.

  “What if she isn’t at home?” Elspeth asked, puffing to keep up with Deanna’s long strides.

  “Carlisle will let us in to use the telephone, then Cook will ply us both with tea and something she’s just baked. And we’ll get to eat in the kitchen because there’ll be no one there to tell on us. And it will be just like the old days.”

  Elspeth frowned.

  “Don’t be a sourpuss.”

  It was a sunny day and there was a slight breeze, so the walk was pleasant. When they arrived at Bonheur, Deanna led Elspeth around to the kitchen door and knocked.

  “Lord, Miss Deanna, what are you up to this time?” Cook asked. She was a dumpling of a woman. All the Ballard cooks were hefty women. Gran Gwen insisted that women cooked as well as any man, and without nearly the same amount of drama.

  “Is Gran Gwen at home?”

  “She is, which you would know if you went to the front door as is proper.”

  Deanna looked chastised. “We thought you would at least give us a cup of tea.”

  Cook picked up a wooden spoon and tapped a tattoo in the air. “Up to your old tricks are you? And you almost a grown woman.”

  “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

  “Well, you’re in luck; the kettle is already on the boil and I baked these this morning.” She opened the larder door and came out with a tray of fragile tea cakes. “You can each have two. The rest are for the guests tomorrow night.”

  Deanna took two for herself, and when Elspeth hesitated, she took two more and handed them to her. Elspeth glanced at Cook.

  “Egalitarian is what you’ll get in this house,” Cook said, turning her spoon to Elspeth. “Just be sure not to overstep.”

  Elspeth glanced sideways at Deanna.

  “She just means we all get tea cakes when we want them.” Deanna wiggled the tea cakes at her.

  Elspeth took them and bit into one, sighing with delight. Deanna followed her example, and both ate enthusiastically as they waited for the tea to brew.

  Cook filled the teapot, then went over to a wall panel holding two rows of buttons. She pressed one, and after a few minutes, Carlisle appeared.

  He barely registered surprise at finding Deanna in the kitchen, well trained as he was. “Good morning, Miss Deanna.”

  “Good morning, Carlisle. We need to see Gran Gwen.” She looked toward Elspeth. “Both of us need to see her.”

  “You’ll have your tea first,” Cook said.

  “I’ll tell her you’re here.” Carlisle made a dignified exit, though Deanna did see him glance at the tea cakes as he passed.

  Cook was just pouring the tea when Gran Gwen swept into the kitchen. “Is this a private party?”

  Elspeth jumped up, nearly upsetting her cup.

  Cook quickly wiped her hands on her apron. “Would you like a cup, madam?”

  “Yes, please, and, Elspeth, please sit down and relax. I often take tea in the kitchen.” Under Elspeth’s startled gaze and Deanna’s amused one, Gran Gwen sat down at the table. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Have I scandalized you, Elspeth?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You did, Gran Gwen. She’s such a stickler,” Deanna said, shooting Elspeth a smug look.

  “And to what to I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  “We wanted to use your telephone.”

  Gran Gwen frowned at Deanna. “Is the one at Seacrest broken?”

  Deanna shook her head. “Nor the one at home. But we wanted to come here.”

  “Ah, tea cakes.”

  “They’re for the party tomorrow night,” Cook said. “You can only have two.”

  Gran Gwen took a handful from the tray.

  “I hope it’s all right,” Deanna said as they mun
ched cookies, “but I asked Will Hennessey to meet us here. I told him I would telephone the station when we arrived. And . . . and I wondered if you had heard from Joe?”

  “You’re in luck. Joseph sent Orrin round this morning with a message.” Gran Gwen shook her head. “Joseph’s head is already living in the twentieth century, yet he doesn’t own a telephone.”

  “We don’t have a lot of telephones down in the Fifth,” Elspeth said.

  “I know, dear. But that will change in time. Anyway, he said they are both coming for lunch. Until that time, why don’t you fill me in on the goings-on at Seacrest.”

  By the time Joe and Will arrived, Gran Gwen had been brought up to date on all the “goings-on” at Seacrest, the tea cakes were gone, and Cook had started a new batch.

  It was several hours later when Gran Gwen sent Deanna and Elspeth back to Seacrest in the family carriage. Their planning meeting had gone so long that Deanna had to hurry to change clothes in time for tea.

  Mrs. Woodruff even came down to pour. She looked resigned but rested.

  Deanna hadn’t expected Lord David to be back from his vigil at the hospital, so she was surprised but glad when he and Charles came down the steps together. She had plenty of questions she wanted to ask.

  “How is your poor manservant?” Mrs. Woodruff asked.

  Lord David shot the crease of his white linen trousers and sat down across from her. “Alas, not well. I wasn’t even allowed to see him. They said he barely clings to life and cannot be disturbed.”

  “How awful!” Mrs. Woodruff said, sympathetically.

  Lord David shrugged slightly. “We can but hope for the best. He was a good worker. Took very good care of me and my wardrobe.”

  She handed him a cup of tea. “Well, I’m sure Neville can find you a replacement. Until he’s better of course. He might not be as unique as Swan, but he should suffice until you can make other arrangements, or . . .”

  She trailed off and looked over to where Charles stood separated from the others, his hand resting on the fireplace mantel. “Charles, do you care for tea?”

  “Hmm? No, Mama, I do not care for tea. Manchester, where is your sister?”

  “I’m here,” Madeline announced floating into the room, the skirts of her tea gown floating behind her. “Mrs. Woodruff, please forgive me for being so late to tea.” She sniffed daintily. “It’s all been just a bit much for me.”

  Deanna was tempted to roll her eyes. The few times she’d seen Madeline and Swan together, Madeline hadn’t been very nice to him, and she’d called his magic tricks boring. Though Deanna supposed that it might get boring if Lord David was constantly pulling him out to perform for their friends. And it was true that some things and people aren’t missed until they’re gone.

  “We’re so sorry, dear, that this has happened while you were here. Nothing like it has ever happened before, I assure you. Come sit here on the settee by me.”

  Madeline did as she was bid and accepted a cup of tea but none of the sweets from the three-tiered tea tray.

  Deanna tried to join in the conversation, but she could hardly look Mrs. Woodruff in the eye. She felt so guilty for filching some of her husband’s medicine and for even momentarily wondering if this woman could be poisoning her husband.

  Cassie kept looking at Deanna with a confused and worried countenance, and Deanna breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally back upstairs in her own room.

  “I don’t think I can stand it until tomorrow night,” she told Elspeth as she changed out of her dress. She jumped up on the bed and lay down, arms stretched out to the side. “Oh.” She sat straight up.

  “What, miss? Did something pinch you?”

  “No. But Elspeth, what if Mama hears that I’ve gone to a party at Gran Gwen’s? Especially without her. She will not be happy. You know how she feels about the Ballards.”

  “Well, by the time she does, it will be too late to stop you.”

  “True. And even if she gives me one of her lectures, it will be worth it if we can catch a killer.”

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Madeline and Charles were both brooding; Lord David kept the conversation going, though Deanna could tell he was only half paying attention.

  After dinner the ladies climbed into the Woodruffs’ barouche while Charles and Lord David followed in the smaller spider phaeton.

  Deanna had never visited the Howes before, though her mother and Adelaide often called on Mrs. Howe. They lived in one of the newer cottages at the south end of Bellevue Avenue.

  Vlady must have been waiting for them just inside, for as they entered the music room, which gleamed with gold brocade walls and upholstery, he strode up to them to say hello. Charles and Lord David had stopped to speak with several of the gentlemen, and Mrs. Woodruff waved to someone across the room and left to say hello.

  Soon the performance was announced and everyone found a seat. Deanna looked around for Cassie, from whom she’d been separated, and caught sight of her and Vlady slipping out of the room.

  Deanna turned back to the singer just as Herbert and Cokey sidled into the room. They stopped one on each side of her. She nodded and smiled.

  “Where’s Joe?” Cokey asked. “Have they arrested him yet?”

  “Enough, Cokey,” Herbert hissed across Deanna. “You’re no longer amusing.”

  “Deanna thinks I amusing, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t. Now please be quiet.”

  Old Mrs. Bigelow turned around and frowned at them.

  The music began. The soprano, a coloratura from the Metropolitan Opera, sang an aria from The Magic Flute. Appreciative applause followed her song and her next song and the next.

  When the singer left the stage for the intermission, Herbert and Cokey took their leave.

  “That’s enough screeching for me for one evening. I’m for the Casino. Herbert?”

  Herbert agreed.

  Cokey bowed slightly. “Well, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll see you tomorrow at the Ballard fete. At least we can depend on Joe’s grandmother to keep things interesting.”

  You don’t know the half of it, Deanna thought as she watched them both walk away.

  By the end of the second half of the program, even Deanna was ready for some quiet.

  But when they returned to Seacrest after the musicale, there was a policeman waiting for them. He was sorry to have to inform them that Swan had passed away.

  They were all shocked, even Deanna—who wasn’t sure if it were true or one of the lies Joe and Will had concocted as part of the act.

  Madeline let out a little cry and Cassie put her arm around her. Lord David accepted the news stoically and asked when he could pick up Swan’s body for burial.

  “Well, now. The captain has ordered a postmortem examination.”

  “No,” Madeline cried. “Oh no!”

  Even Lord David looked like he might cry. “But we want to take him home.”

  “And you can, sir. When the coroner’s finished with him.”

  “It’s heathen,” Madeline cried. “Godforsaken! Oh, why did we come here?”

  “Now, now,” Mrs. Woodruff said. She took over from Cassie and helped Madeline to the sofa in the front parlor. “Neville, send for my maid to bring some salts.”

  Lord David walked out with the policeman. Deanna could still hear him arguing with the man.

  “It is heathen to cut the poor man up like that,” Cassie said. “How awful.”

  “Yes, it is,” Deanna said. “Just awful.”

  Joe, Will, and Orrin arrived at Bonheur at daybreak. Cook had guessed as much, and the buffet groaned beneath her eggs, ham, steak, bread, and porridge. Orrin refused to eat in the breakfast room, so Joe and Will joined him in the kitchen.

  “Don’t you young people make a habit of this,” Cook complained. “I need room to work.”r />
  They’d worked out most of the plan with Deanna and Elspeth the day before. But they had intentionally left the women in the dark about certain things so their reactions would be genuine.

  “I just hope they don’t faint dead away,” Will said as he unrolled a drum of wire across Bonheur’s music room floor. They’d decided on that room because the French doors opened off to two sides, one which led to the terrace and the other which led to the lawn and the cliffs. They would use the terrace door for their spirit visit, since the second parlor was where they would work the machinations of the evening.

  “Those two?” Joe said. “Not likely. Though it might be better if Deanna did. Then we could just tell her afterward if it worked and not have to worry about her getting in the way.”

  Will straightened, holding the drum of wire in both hands. “You know, Deanna’s changed, Joe. Just in the last few days, she’s become sure of herself. More confident. Courageous. It’s kind of amazing. I think her mama is going to be in for a big surprise when she returns to Newport. I don’t think Deanna will go back to the way things were.”

  “Heaven protect us,” Joe said, and spliced the wires onto a thin wooden board.

  “Maybe. But lest you forget, it was Deanna who thought up this scheme.”

  “Don’t remind me. Roll.”

  Will shook his head and went back to rolling a spool of wire along the floor.

  When he was finished, they carefully relaid the carpeting to cover it and placed the games table right in the center.

  Then Joe went into the next room, where the other end of the wire led to another board that had been secured to a second table. An alphabet was printed on the board, and under each letter was a red light. A row of switches ran along the table corresponding to each letter.

  “Everything working, Orrin?”

  “Yes, sir. So far, so good.”

  “Let’s give it a test, then call Grandmère out to have a go.”

  Joe pulled a chair up to the table in the music room and opened a box. He took out a Ouija board, a fad that had swept the country and that, whether it actually communicated with the other world or not, would serve their purposes just fine.