5 Check-Out Time (21 page)

This time even Mrs. Chubb joined in Ethel’s laughter. The housekeeper’s laughter died, however, when Phoebe spoke from the doorway. “I apologize for interrupting you, Mrs. Chubb, but I’d like a word with you,” she said primly.

Gertie nudged Ethel as the housekeeper walked toward Phoebe and without a word joined her outside the hallway, closing the door firmly behind her.

“We have been friends a long time, Altheda,” Phoebe said, looking very nervous. She twirled her parasol aimlessly in her hands and avoided meeting Mrs. Chubb’s gaze. “I do not wish to spoil that friendship because of an insensitive, uncouth philanderer who doesn’t have a penny to his name. I am not in the least bit interested in Arthur Barrett. You are welcome to him, Altheda, and I wish you every happiness.”

“That’s very decent of you, Phoebe,” Mrs. Chubb said gravely, “but I am not interested in Arthur Barrett either. In fact, I don’t expect to see him again.”

Phoebe looked at her in surprise. “Oh? Has he left? I wondered why I didn’t see him when I came in this morning.”

Mrs. Chubb smiled. “He’s left.” She took hold of Phoebe’s arm. “Come into the kitchen, Phoebe, me duck, and I’ll tell you a story that will leave you absolutely breathless.”

*      *      *

“I suppose we shall have to start looking for another doorman,” Cecily said as she leaned against the wall of the roof garden to look down on the courtyard below.

“Yes, madam. I’ll see to it right away.” Baxter coughed behind his hand. “May I suggest, madam, that this time
I
select a likely candidate?”

Cecily twisted her head to look at him. “Are you saying you don’t trust my judgment in this matter?”

“No, madam.” Baxter stretched his chin above his stiff collar. “I was merely thinking that a man might not be so easily swayed by a charming manner and a twinkle in the eye.”

Cecily clicked her tongue at him. “Chauvinism, Baxter. Most definitely chauvinism. The very attitude that we women are struggling so hard to defeat.”

“Yes, madam.” His eyes glinted in the sun as he looked down at her. “But true nevertheless.”

For once she felt disinclined to rise to the bait. Turning away, she rested her gaze on the shimmering ocean. “He did at least keep his word and wait for the constable. And to think I suspected my daughter-in-law of being involved. I’m afraid I let my personal feelings sway my judgment.” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t think I shall ever be able to truly accept her as Michael’s wife, I’m ashamed to say.”

“We cannot always base our feelings on other people’s preferences.”

“Maybe not. Nevertheless, I am guilty of jumping to conclusions on both counts. I was taken in by Arthur’s charisma. I blame myself in a way for what happened. Had Stanley died, I would never have been able to live with myself.”

Baxter moved a little closer to her. “You couldn’t possibly be responsible for that madman’s actions. You couldn’t have known what he was when you hired him.”

She kept her gaze on the wide expanse of water, glittering
beneath a warm sun. “You did, Baxter. You never liked him.”

There was a long pause. “It wasn’t because I suspected him of being evil,” he said finally.

She looked at him then, alerted by something in his voice. “What was it?”

He seemed to be avoiding her gaze, and she watched him, suddenly intrigued. Finally he said, “I resented the devastating effect he had on the ladies.” He paused, then added quietly, “And you in particular, madam. Most immature of me, I admit.”

Cecily laughed in delight. “Why, Baxter, I do believe you were jealous.”

She had meant to tease, but when his gaze finally rested on her face, something in his eyes made her heart begin to pound in a quite ridiculous manner.

“Yes, madam,” he said softly. “I do believe I was.”

She seemed bereft of air to breathe for several seconds. When she recovered her composure enough to trust her voice, she said lightly, “You should know better than that, Bax. There is not one man alive in this world who could possibly compare to my most faithful and trustworthy manager, who also happens to be my most loyal friend.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then gave her one of his rare and quite beautiful smiles. “I am most happy to hear that, madam.”

She smiled in return, but then his next words gave her a very nasty jolt indeed.

“I do trust, madam, that you will remember those words, should I ever decide to relinquish my position as manager of the Pennyfoot Hotel.”

With that, he turned and strode briskly toward the attic door, leaving her to stare after him, wondering what he could possibly have meant by that dreadfully cryptic remark.

About the Author

Kate Kingsbury is the national bestselling author of over sixty books. She lives in Oregon with her husband and a rat terrier who thinks she’s a Great Dane.