No Clue at the Inn (Pennyfoot Hotel Mystery Book 13) (11 page)

His contemptuous snort delighted her. She reached for a wedge of cheese and a hunk of bread. "This is so much fun. Like picnicking, only more comfortable. I never did see the enjoyment in sitting in a field tormented by ants and bees."

Baxter munched on a slice of apple before replying. "I remember quite well that you used to adore sitting in a field with me."

"Ah, yes, well . . . I wasn't thinking about the ants and the bees then."

"Am I to take it that the bloom has gone off the romance now?"

She grinned happily at him. "Nothing could ever take
the bloom from my passion for you, my love. But you must admit, this is so much more cozy than sharing your meal with a herd of curious cows."

"Indubitably."

"By the way, you seem to be enjoying my lunch. Did you not eat in the dining room?"

"I didn't have much of an appetite. I hate dining alone. I did far too much of it in my life."

"I'm sorry, darling. From now on I'll make every effort to be here at mealtimes. Now let me tell you about our plans for the pantomime. Which reminds me, we need to order a large tree for the library."

Baxter munched in companionable silence while she divided her time between elaborating on her conversation with Madeline and Phoebe and avidly devouring the delectable offerings on the tray.

After a while, Baxter leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "Well, did you find anything at the farmhouse to justify your visit?"

She struggled with her conscience for several seconds before finally blurting out, "I found a hat pin. That's all. Oh, and an empty bottle of cognac."

He sighed. "Well, I hope you're satisfied. If the constables couldn't find anything to indicate a murder had been committed, I'm sure you won't find anything either."

"Perhaps, but I don't intend to give up just yet." She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her serviette. "After all, I promised Emily Wrotham I would find out why her husband lied about working on his afternoon off when he was actually wandering around an abandoned farm for no apparent reason."

Baxter's eyes turned rather bleak. "Why is it you have
no trouble keeping your promises to everyone except me?"

She rose at once and hurried to his side. After placing a kiss on his cheek, she murmured, "Because, my darling, sometimes you extract promises from me that are miserably challenging to keep."

"Only because I care about your safety. I would be lost without you."

"And I you. So please don't fret so much. I'm really quite good at taking care of myself."

"I'll remind you of those words the next time you find yourself in dire peril."

"Piffle. I learned my lesson long ago. I watch my step with the utmost vigilance now."

"As you have demonstrated today."

She straightened. "There are times, Baxter, when I'm quite tempted to poke a finger in your eye."

To her immense satisfaction, he laughed out loud. "There, you see? You are still playing with fire."

"Then perhaps I'd better leave before I'm burned."

"Well, before you go, I have some news for you. Samuel and Daisy arrived earlier."

"Bax! Why on earth didn't you tell me before!" Cecily glanced at the pendulum clock on the wall behind him. "How long ago? Where are they now?"

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you flying out of here without putting some food in your stomach. Besides, I believe they have taken our godchildren for a walk along the beach with Mrs. Chubb and Gertie."

"In this weather?" Cecily hurried to the door. "I do trust they wrapped up those babies warmly enough. That wind is so bitter."

"I imagine Gertie knows how to take care of her children by now."

She looked back at him. "We are talking about
Gertie."

"Ah, yes. I see what you mean." He smiled. "Perhaps you should go after them and make sure all is well."

"Exactly what I had in mind." She blew him a kiss. "Until later, my love."

"Very well, and please, do try to stay out of trouble."

If she hadn't felt so guilty about breaking her promise to him, she would have made some sharp retort. There were times when Baxter made her feel as inadequate as a juvenile. On the other hand, it was rather comforting to know he worried about her so.

She left him frowning over his ledgers, and went in search of her special guests. After checking with the desk clerk to make sure the party hadn't yet returned, she made for the front doors.

The clouds had thinned when she stepped outside again, and patches of blue sky promised a clear, cold evening with the nip of frost in the air.

Apart from the holly wreaths on the hotel doors, there was little to indicate the festive season as Cecily made her way down the Esplanade. Yet the very essence of Christmas was in the air, so prevalent, yet also elusive and impossible to define. It was more a feeling, she decided. An air of expectancy, as if everyone knew something very special was forthcoming, and the whole world was full of excited anticipation.

The dusting of snow had melted, leaving a sparkling dry pavement to walk on. Guessing that her visitors had headed toward the town, Cecily hurried in that direction, and it wasn't long before she spied the straggling group in the distance.

The twins hopped excitedly from one side of the pavement to the other, while Mrs. Chubb did her best to restrain them from darting out into the street. Gertie and Daisy appeared to be deep in conversation, while Samuel, who looked exactly the same as he had the last time Cecily had seen him, gazed out to sea as he lagged behind the rest of the group.

Mrs. Chubb saw Cecily first, and lifted her gloved hand in greeting. The twins rushed headlong toward her, and Cecily leaned down to catch them both in her arms. She gave the two wriggling bodies a hug, then let them go, envying them their abundance of energy.

Daisy dipped a curtsey as she reached her and Samuel pulled off his cap. "It's lovely to see you, madam," Daisy said, her dark eyes alight with excitement in her pretty face. "I can't tell you how good it is to be back in Badgers End."

"Yeah," Samuel agreed. "I forgot how good it smells down here. A lot different than the Smoke. You can breathe deep without choking."

Cecily laughed. "How wonderful to see you all. Just like old times. All we need now are Doris and Ross to complete our reunion."

"Doris will be down by the end of the week, m'm," Daisy said, grabbing hold of James, who seemed intent on climbing over the railing to the beach.

"I want to dig in the sand!" James howled in protest.

"Me, too. Me, too!" Lillian jumped up and down, dislodging the bright red tam-o'-shanter from her head.

"They're tired," Mrs. Chubb said. "All this excitement is wearing them out."

"When's Father Christmas coming?" James demanded, dragging his boots as Daisy pulled him along.

"He don't come to naughty boys and girls," Daisy told him sternly. "So you'd better be good."

"Don't want to be good." James dug in his heels, jerking Daisy to a halt.

"Come 'ere," Gertie said, taking his hand. "If you don't behave, I'll tell your papa what a bad boy you are when he gets here."

The threat had the desired effect, and the twins allowed themselves to be led by the hand once more.

"Let's all go back to the hotel," Cecily suggested, "and we'll have tea and crumpets in the library by the fire."

Gertie fanned herself with an imaginary fan. "Blimey! Fancy me taking tea and crumpets with madam in the library. I never would have imagined it in the old days."

Cecily laughed. "Well, don't tell anyone, but according to the rules, which are ridiculously strict, none of us are supposed to be in the library unless we have membership in the club. Then again, some rules are just begging to be broken."

Mrs. Chubb looked worried. "We don't want to get anyone into trouble. Perhaps we should have tea in the kitchen instead. After all, that's where we're used to having it."

"Nonsense," Cecily said briskly. "As long as I am managing the hotel, I'll entertain my guests where I please. Now come along, everyone. It's really getting quite cold out here."

"Looks like snow again," Samuel observed, his gaze on the clouds gathering over the turbulent ocean.

"Well, I hope it waits until my better half gets down here." Gertie made a grab for Lillian's hand. "I don't want him stuck on the train halfway between here and Edinburgh."

"Or Doris on the way down from London for that matter." Cecily smiled at Samuel. "I'm sure you must be anxious for her to arrive. I'm really looking forward to seeing her myself. I want to ask her to help us with the Christmas pantomime. Do you think she'll agree?"

Samuel shrugged. "I reckon she will. That's all she ever thinks about these days, is her singing. Never has time for me no more."

"Samuel's just about given up on Doris, m'm," Daisy put in. "Can't say as I blame him. He never sees her anymore. She's always busy with the theater."

"And her admirers. Lined up at the stage door, they are. I don't get a look-in these days."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Cecily said in dismay. "I always thought that you and Doris were meant for each other."

Samuel gave her a trace of a grin. "Ah well, I'll survive. Lots more fish in the sea, so they say."

Disturbed by the news, Cecily led the group back to the Pennyfoot. First Madeline and Kevin, now Doris and Samuel. They had all seemed so happy with each other just a short two years ago. She was so fond of them all, it was sad to see them break apart. It would seem that everything was changing after all.

She'd taken a special interest in Doris and Daisy ever since the girls had arrived at the Pennyfoot, looking far too young and fragile for the heavy work of a scullery maid. At first it had been impossible to tell them apart—but it soon became obvious that Daisy was by far the stronger and couldn't sing a note in tune, while her more delicate twin had the voice of an angel.

Cecily had been happy for Doris's success on the stage,
but she could only hope that the child hadn't sacrificed her future happiness to follow her dream.

By that evening the delectable aroma of Michel's Christmas puddings permeated the entire first floor of the Pennyfoot. The fragrance of nutmeg, lemon rind, and allspice even reached to the second floor, causing Cecily to pause with her nose sniffing the air as she emerged from her suite behind Baxter.

"Now it really smells like Christmas," she said, with a long sigh of satisfaction. "I just hope Michel remembered to put in the silver threepenny pieces. I can hardly wait for the dinner on Christmas Day. No matter how much goose and rib roast I eat, the second Michel carries in that pudding flaming in brandy, I'm hungry all over again."

Baxter gave her a fond smile. "Is there ever a time when you're not hungry? For a woman of your pleasing figure, you have a remarkable appetite and a capacity to satisfy it without any of it settling on your waistline."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "I'm not sure if you've just paid me a compliment or handed me an insult."

He placed an affectionate arm about her shoulders. "I would never have the audacity to insult you, my love."

"Or the courage."

He sighed. "That, too. I have no doubt as to who would fare the worst."

"I'm happy that you recognize the folly of such a hazardous venture."

He was about to answer when the sound of voices raised in harmony interrupted her. "Listen," she said, lifting her hand to her ear. "It sounds as if our carol singers have arrived."

"It does, indeed." He offered her his arm and together
they descended the curving staircase to the first floor.

Ten or so carol singers stood formed in a semicircle in the foyer, while the beautiful refrain of "O Little Town of Bethlehem" echoed down the hallway.

Standing in the corner watching them, one hand possessively grasping his wife's elbow, Sir John Gilroy looked impressive in black coattails and a white bow tie. At his side, Lady Lucille was magnificent in pearl pink satin, the ostrich feathers in her hair matching exactly the shade of her gown.

Lionel Fitzhammer hovered just a little too close to her, while she quite obviously ignored him. Lionel's wife, Barbara, seemed to fade into the background as usual.

Catching sight of the couple she and Gertie had passed on the stairs, Cecily nudged Baxter's arm. "You haven't met our distinguished guests as yet. I think we should go over there so that I can introduce you."

Baxter cast a glance across the room. "I wasn't aware you had met them."

"I haven't met them all. But since they are all standing over there together, I think this would be a good time." Without giving him any time to argue, she skirted the carolers and headed for the group, who seemed on the point of leaving as she approached.

She greeted Sir John and his wife, then introduced Baxter to them. Sir John, in turn, introduced the Fitzhammers. The handsome gentleman from the stairs and his wife proved to be Roger Peebles and his wife, Gretchen, leaving the fourth couple, older than the rest by a good ten years, Cecily judged, to be Percy and Amelia Chatsworth. After exchanging some pleasantries, the group bade them good night and made their way to the front doors. As they
had left, Cecily glimpsed snow falling thick and fast, covering the roofs of a row of shiny motor cars lined up outside. No doubt the Benchers were seeking more excitement than the Pennyfoot offered that evening. She really needed to start working on the pantomime.

"They seem pleasant enough," Baxter remarked, just as the carolers began a rousing chorus of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen."

"I suppose so, though I can't say I care for the way Mr. Fitzhammer leers at Lady Lucille."

Baxter stared at her in amusement. "You wish he paid a little more attention to you, perhaps?"

"Great heavens, no." Cecily shook her head in disgust. "I simply fail to see why the man can't be satisfied with the woman he married. It's obvious he ignores poor Mrs. Fitzhammer. If I were her, I'd be fluttering my eyelashes at the handsome Roger Peebles. That would give Lionel something to think about."

"And what about Peebles's wife? Don't you think she'd mind if Mrs. Fitzhammer ogled her husband?"