The Christmas Conundrum

by Karen Hall

  “Caulfield is a trouble maker,” Nigel said. “One day someone is going to find him and charge him with libel. Let’s be glad he’s steered clear of political commentary so far.”

  Daniel could not stop his laugh. “They’ll have to find out who he is first.”

  Nigel’s response was prevented by their pulling up in front of Lady Cecily’s Mayfair mansion. Once on the sidewalk, Daniel looked at his coachman. “I think returning between half-past nine and ten o’clock will do, Pruitt.”

  Pruitt put two fingers to his hat and nodded. “Will you be needing the carriage early tomorrow, sir?”

  “Yes. I have to be in court tomorrow at nine. Can you be ready by eight o’clock?”

  “Yes sir.” Pruitt moved the horses forward as Daniel and Nigel made their way up the walk and the front steps to the massive wooden doors. Nigel’s quick knock produced an almost as rapid opening of the doors and their being ushered into the foyer. After they gave their coats and hats to the waiting footmen, the butler walked them to the open door of Lady Cecily’s already crowded drawing room and announced them.

  “Daniel! How good of you to come!” The tall, silver-headed person who was Lady Cecily wove her way through her guests to greet them. “And you’ve brought Mr. Davenport with you. How delightful.”

  Nigel beamed and bowed over the old woman’s outstretched hand. “I’m honored to be included in tonight’s invitation, Lady Cecily.”

  “Well, when Daniel’s response to my invitation said the two of you had planned to meet this evening, I said to myself, ‘Cecily, old girl, something must be up if Nigel Davenport is coming with Daniel.’” Curiosity lifted Lady Cecily’s silver eyebrows. “Is there something I need to know about?”

  Profoundly grateful for the noisy conversations the other guests provided, Daniel returned his hostess’ direct gaze. “Don’t count your chickens, Lady Cecily,” he warned. “It’s early days yet, and Thomas McCracken still holds the seat for my district and may yet run again.”

  “Care to place a wager on that comment, Mr. Davenport?” Lady Cecily shifted her gaze to Nigel.

  “Not at the moment, Lady Cecily.” Nigel inclined his head. “As Daniel says, it’s early days yet.”

  “Mrs. Hugh Keller,” the butler announced.

  The buzz of voices sank to a murmur as Louisa Keller, widow, entered. Beautiful, educated and with a shrewd understanding of politics, she was the most celebrated hostess and sought-after widow in London. Her late husband Hugh, haled from Hampshire, and like Daniel a moderate in most issues, had died a year before Letty. Along with the fortune Hugh left Louisa she’d inherited a keen understanding of politics, from day to day business to affairs at the international level. It was rumored that a word or suggestion from her, could make or break a vote in the House and Daniel wondered what might happen to the English government if women like her ever did get the vote. It was a sobering thought.

  “Now, that is a woman you should get to know better,” Nigel murmured as Louisa headed in their direction. She was, in her own way, as much a maverick as Lady Cecily. Her smile as she approached Daniel was warm and inviting.

  “We’ll see,” Daniel managed a hasty whisper as Louisa joined them. She’d recently sent word through a mutual friend that if he wished to call on her, she would not object, but he hadn’t decided whether to take her up on the offer.

  “Daniel, it’s good to see you again,” she greeted. Her dark gold dress added a glow to her pale blonde hair, and her amber-hued eyes shimmered as she regarded him. “We missed you at the meeting of the Opera Board. There was a rather fierce debate over which productions to launch two years from now and we could use your help because the Verdi camp threatens to overrun the Mozart.”

  “I had to meet with a client who could only do so at a certain time,” Daniel explained. “I shall make every effort to attend next time.”

  “Perhaps the two of you could go together at the next meeting,” Nigel, a fellow opera lover, suggested. “Verdi is all well and good, but Mozart must be saved at all costs, right Daniel?”

  Daniel sent him a mental kick, but Louisa’s smile broadened to include the man. “Nigel, you always have an answer to every possible problem, don’t you?” Nigel had successfully managed her late husband Hugh’s run for the House years ago. There were rumors he and Louisa had briefly been lovers after Hugh’s death, a rumor they both denied. Nigel was far too ambitious in his career as ‘kingmaker’ to enter into any alliance –romantic or otherwise –where gossip could topple him from that position.

  Nigel bowed. “If I’d known you were invited tonight, Louisa, I’d have sent a corsage. Your gown is lovely. Not many women can wear so striking a shade of gold.”

  “You’re such a charmer, Nigel,” she teased, but her gaze remained on Daniel. A sliver of suspicion inched its way up his spine and he wondered if perhaps he had not just walked into a very well-laid trap.

  “Good Lord, there’s Thomas McCracken,” Nigel said abruptly. “What’s The Old Girl up to by inviting him?”

  “I haven’t a clue.” Daniel watched the tall, silver-headed former barrister flirt with his hostess and wondered if Lady Cecily had wanted to see if he and his old rival might butt heads. She loved to stir the pot when she could and what better place to do it than her own home?

  He held back his sigh as he watched McCracken take his hostess by the arm and work his way around the room, stopping to speak to first one person, then a group. His ability to subtlety manipulate people would do Machiavelli proud and his oratory in the House was no less impressive. McCracken’s hair had turned silver as a young man and he used it to his advantage, presenting himself as one who possessed wisdom beyond his years. His years in the House after Daniel’s hiatus from politics would give him a definite advantage if Daniel decided to run for office again. Like Nigel, McCracken was a life-long bachelor and Daniel briefly wondered why the politician had never married.

  After Lady Cecily turned to join another guest, McCracken’s fierce, hooded eyes –

  ones that had often reduced a suspect in the witness box to confess after only a few

  minutes of near inquisitional style questioning – searched the room. Seeing them together, McCracken smiled and moved to join them. The man fairly oozed confidence and while Daniel had no actual quarrel with him, he did not like McCracken. There was a touch of something under that polished surface, something a bit sinister.

  “Well, good evening, one and all,” he greeted. “Is it too early to offer Christmas greetings? Dare we hope for a cup of Lady Cecily’s infamous Christmas Cheer punch?”

  “The waiters are already offering it,” Nigel said. “Are you thinking of running for the House again, McCracken?”

  “Thinking about it,” McCracken said breezily. “And if you’re here with Dan, then perhaps I better consider announcing my decision early, whatever it is. Louisa, you’re as lovely as ever. Excuse me while I find that punch.”

  He moved away and Nigel shook his head. “He’s going to be a hard one to beat, Daniel,” he warned. “We really need to talk later tonight.”

  “Don’t rush me, Nigel,” Daniel warned. “Let me enjoy Christmas before you throw me to the electoral dogs.” He was only too aware of Louisa watching them intently.

  “Tabitha!” Lady Cecily’s voice rose above the other conversations and Daniel watched a barely contained grimace replace Louisa’s smile at their hostess’ exclamation of her latest guest’s arrival. Recalling some of The Clarion’s past less-than-kind editorials regarding Hugh Keller’s voting record, he bit back a smile. Lady Cecily had a habit of inviting people of vastly conflicting views to her dinner parties, and Daniel suspected it was to see what kind of fireworks it might generate. Was that why the old lady had invited both Louisa and Mrs. Goforth tonight as well as him and McCracken? Fireworks indeed.

  “So Lady Cecily decided to invite that woman,” Louisa murmured, opening the fan at her wrist and setting into a gentle waving motion. “I think
at times she must run mad.”

  “Who? Lady Cecily or Mrs. Goforth?” Daniel asked. Nigel grunted and moved toward a waiter who carried a tray of cups that most likely contained Lady Cecily’s infamous punch—a combination of cranberry and orange juices along with mulled red wine, brandy, and curacao—that lived up to its name, especially if one imbibed more than two servings.

  “Both, actually,” Louisa said softly. “It should be an interesting evening.”

  “Indeed,” Daniel agreed as he continued his study of Tabitha Goforth in something just short of surprise. He could not recall seeing her without a hat of some kind as a lady always wore when in public. Now he could see her chestnut hair held hues of russet and gold as well and he wondered for a moment how it would look, spilling over her shoulders instead of the upswept style she wore this evening. Her evening attire too provided a pleasant surprise. Having never seen her in anything but practical clothing, the off-the-shoulder jade gown suggested that while slender, she possessed a womanly shape in both bosom and hip. He hastily shoved the thought away.

  He’d never thought of her as pretty before. She was simply ‘that woman.’ Seeing her dressed fashionably gave him a completely different impression of her. She was actually quite lovely. As if feeling his scrutiny, she turned her head and he found himself under her direct gaze. Smiling, she came to join him and Louisa.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Keller,” she greeted. “And here is my old friend Mr. Hollingsworth too! How nice to see you both again.”

  “Mrs. Goforth,” Louisa said, still fanning herself. “I didn’t know you were acquainted with Lady Cecily.”

  “We belong to a literary society,” Mrs. Goforth said cheerfully. “We meet monthly to read aloud from the classics, which is what I believe Lady Cecily has in mind for our entertainment tonight.”

  “You mean we’re to spend the evening reading aloud?” Daniel asked.

  Amusement brightened Mrs. Goforth’s eyes. “We’re to read aloud Dickens’ A Christmas Carol with a buffet supper between ‘acts.’ Didn’t she tell you?”

  Daniel sighed inwardly. “She didn’t mention it.”

  “How amusing,” Louisa said dryly. “Are we being assigned parts?”

  “We’ll draw slips for parts in each act,” Mrs. Goforth explained. “That way we can all try different characters. You’ll do well at this, Mr. Hollingsworth. With your gift for oration, you’d make a splendid Scrooge.”

  “I think I’d prefer being the narrator,” Daniel drawled. “No funny voices to do or characters to develop.”

  “Lady Cecily probably has an ulterior motive for this gathering as well,” Mrs. Goforth said. “I believe she’s found a new cause and wants to make us all aware of it. We shall have to be on our toes or she’ll be passing the hat for donations.”

  “Or perhaps it will be to gather a collection for you and your daughter the next time you’re arrested,” Louisa suggested. “Having bail money would be more practical than giving to a social cause, wouldn’t it? But then I wonder how many of the guests would contribute to your getting out of jail?”

  Daniel cleared his throat. Louisa, for all her education, firmly believed the women’s suffrage movement was a lost cause and wives could best influence their husbands outside the ballot box. From Mrs. Goforth’s expression, Louisa might as well have thrown down one of her gloves in challenge.

  “Whatever Lady Cecily has in mind, it should be an interesting evening,” he said quickly. Women quarrelling in public, especially at a party, were not the kind of fireworks he’d want to witness.

  “How very generous of her to consider paying our bail,” Mrs. Goforth said, a dangerous twinkle entering her eyes. “I believe she might have done so the last time, though I was told the donor wished to remain anonymous. Even my journalistic skills couldn’t find out who it was. You, Mrs. Keller, may send a check for the same cause to the office of The Clarion if you wish. Any amount would be greatly appreciated.”

  “Indeed.” Louisa’s icy tone nearly matched the temperature outside as she snapped her fan shut.

  “Come my friends!” Lady Cecily’s voice rang out over the room, and Daniel breathed an inward sigh of relief at the interruption. “If you’ll follow me into the large parlor, we’ll start our evening. I hope you brought your best reading voices along with your appetites.”

  “Well, let the fun begin,” Mrs. Goforth proclaimed. “I wonder who’ll draw the part of Tiny Tim? My goodness. There’s Thomas McCracken. How very interesting. Do excuse me.”

  And giving them a wink, she hurried to join their hostess.

  Chapter Four

  THE NEXT MORNING. MARYLEBONE

  “You invited Daniel Hollingsworth to visit my school?” Clara Goforth nearly dropped her coffee cup onto the breakfast table. “Because you beat him in a chess game at Lady Cecily’s party? Mother, how could you without asking me first?”

  “Because you were sleeping when I got home last night,” Tabitha said. “And if Cyrus McKenzie hadn’t used Lady Cecily’s party—after we’d had such fun reading A Christmas Carol aloud—as a platform against women’s suffrage, or letting women join men’s organizations, the game would never have happened.”

  “Cyrus McKenzie is an old goat,” Clara complained. “He’s just angry because The Clarion always outsells his newspaper, The Watchman. But it’s so conservative in its opinions, how could we not?”

  “Well put, my dear,” Tabitha agreed. “But when I said lack of ability, not gender, should be the only barrier to joining something like the All England Billiard and Chess Club, he said no woman could ever play chess as well as a man. When I told him I’d once been a junior champion in a women’s chess league and defeated a top male player, he insisted I play the best player in the room to prove my ‘boast.’ I think he wanted to humiliate me.”

  “And Mr. Hollingsworth was the best player,” Clara guessed.

  “Correct,” Tabitha said. “Mr. Hollingsworth didn’t want to play either, but we struck an agreement that if I lost, I’d stop trying to find out if he was going to run for the House of Commons. If I won, he’d come with me to visit your school. Sooner or later laws will be passed to fund higher education for everyone, so he might as well decide how he’ll vote before he decides to run. What better place to see that than your school?”

  “Mother, that’s good. That’s really good,” Clara praised, adding more milk to her coffee. “You really are quite the strategist.”

  “I thought so too,” Tabitha said proudly. “Mr. Hollingsworth agreed to the arrangement. We played and I won.” Recalling the assembly’s gasps of disbelief, Tabitha laughed. “I thought Cyrus would have an apoplectic fit, especially when Mr. Hollingsworth denied letting me win.”

  “Well, you did learn from the best,” Clara said with pride. “Playing with Vicar Collins all those years at home in Kennelsworth certainly came in handy!”

  “It’s not every village that can boast their vicar is a chess Grand Master,” Tabitha said. “Apart from Lady Cecily and Mr. Hollingsworth, everyone seemed to think I’d made a huge social faux pas. I believe I heard the phrase ‘un-lady-like’ whispered more than once.”

  “For beating a man at chess?” Clara was incredulous.

  “For beating a man at anything in public,” Tabitha said. “At least Mr. Hollingsworth took it gracefully. At times, I think I almost like him, despite some of the letters he’s sent to The Times.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it,” Clara said, “Daniel Hollingsworth is a very handsome man. I quite prefer his voice to Thomas McCracken’s too. He could have gone into the theater. I wonder why he’s never remarried.”

  “Indeed,” Tabitha said softly. She’d watched Louisa Keller closely last night. The glances the woman sent Daniel Hollingsworth certainly suggested she had some kind of alliance in mind. A woman with her influence could prove helpful to him if he did decide to run for the House again.

  And Louisa’s glances at any woman who dared linger too long in conv
ersation with the handsome barrister fairly screamed, Hands off. He’s mine.

  “Well, you can tell him how handsome you find him if he gets elected.” Elizabeth strode into the room, holding up a copy of The Times. “Mr. Daniel Micah Hollingsworth has declared himself a candidate for his home district in next year’s run for the House of Commons. He held out on you, Mother. I’ll bet he’d already decided to run when you met with him yesterday morning. He’s insufferable.”

  She put the paper on the table, and Tabitha took her reading glasses from her skirt pocket and quickly read the story. “What a devious fellow!” she declared with a chuckle. “Do you suppose his public defeat by a woman had anything to do with speeding up his decision on whether to run or not? Or perhaps Thomas McCracken being at the party last night hurried his decision. He wants to announce before McCracken makes a decision on whether to run again or not to get the voters interested early. If there is any deviousness going on, I’d lay it at Lady Cecily’s feet. The Old Girl wanted to force someone’s hand. This is going to be a very interesting Christmas season.”

  “If Nigel Davenport had any voice in the matter, I’d say that’s exactly why Hollingsworth did it,” Elizabeth said darkly. “That man is odious and Hollingsworth isn’t much better.”

  “Let’s not be too hasty to judge Mr. Hollingsworth quite so harshly,” Tabitha said. “During his first term in office, he always took a moderate approach to things and took his time making decisions.”

  “Took his time?” Elizabeth huffed. “When women need the vote now? When older children need more education now? When—”