buy you all the gin and tonics you can drink.”
“No, ta very much.”
“Oh, you don’t like gin?” He tilted his head to one side. “How about a nice cherry brandy, then?”
She stared at him, jolted by the suggestion. Cherry brandy would always remind her of Ian. She drank it all the time when they were together. Ian used to tease her about it, saying her nose would turn red if she kept drinking it.
Forcing her thoughts away from the memory, she scowled at Sid. “I’m not going anywhere with you, so just bloody leave me alone.”
Sid simply smiled. “Come on, luv, come and have a drink with me tonight. You need cheering up. It isn’t every day you lose a husband.”
She gritted her teeth. “I already told you, Ian wasn’t my husband.”
“He was your children’s father, though, so he must have meant a lot to you at one time.” He leaned forward, a sly gleam in his eyes. “He must have come visiting a lot.”
Gertie frowned. “I don’t think that’s any of your bleeding business, is it.”
“I’d like to make it my business. A nice looking woman like you shouldn’t have to bring up two little ones alone.”
“Yeah, well, that’s for me to worry about, not you. In any case, I already got a boyfriend, so you needn’t worry about me being alone.” Tossing her head, Gertie marched away from him. She could feel his gaze on her back all the way down the corridor.
She was relieved when she could turn the corner and leave him behind. Cheeky bugger. What was he thinking, trying to pick up someone who’d just lost her husband?
She was getting a funny feeling in her bones about that man. He was probably chasing after all the maids and making himself a nuisance. Hoping to get one of them alone, no doubt. Well, he wasn’t going to get her alone anywhere with him. Not if he offered her a hundred pounds and all the blinking diamonds she could wear.
He wasn’t her type. Not like Dan. Now, if only Dan was as eager for her company as that sleazy Sid Barrett, she could be really happy.
Right now, however, she had better things to think about. She had to get supper on the tables and then get the dishes washed and put away before she could meet Dan and go down the pub. Now that was something she was really going to enjoy.
It had been a long day, and Cecily was looking forward to a quiet evening relaxing with her husband. She was smiling at the thought as she approached the stairs, but the smile soon faded when she saw one of her footmen standing over by the Christmas tree.
Sidney Barrett was talking to Pansy, and judging from her expression, she wasn’t enjoying the conversation. Two bright spots of red glowed in her cheeks, and she gazed at him with fire in her eyes.
There were guests passing through the foyer, and wary of drawing unwanted attention, Cecily waited until she was close behind Sid before addressing him. Just as she reached him she heard him say, “Go on, you know you want to.”
Pansy didn’t answer him, and he put a hand on her shoulder, as Cecily spoke in her sharpest voice. “Is there a problem here?”
Sid swung around, his face wreathed in a smile. “Mrs. Baxter! I didn’t see you there.”
Cecily ignored him, searching the maid’s face. “Pansy? Is everything all right?”
Pansy nodded, sent a quick glance at Sid, then slid past him and scuttled off across the lobby toward the kitchen stairs.
“I’ve been meaning to have a word with you, m’m,” Sid said, taking Cecily’s attention away from the fleeing maid. “I wanted to offer my condolences.”
Instantly on guard, Cecily met his gaze. “I beg your pardon?”
“I heard about the dead bloke.” Sid waved a hand at the wall. “In the duck pond. Must have been a nasty shock, all right. Especially for them two little ones, losing their daddy right at Christmastime.”
It was inevitable that the staff would find out about it, but that didn’t mean she was prepared for this moment. Cecily drew a deep breath. “We are trying to keep the incident from the guests as much as possible. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t discuss it among yourselves, particularly wherever someone might overhear you.”
“Oh, right you are, m’m. Mum’s the word, as the great bard, William Shakespeare, once said. Must be hard for the new widow. Right on Christmastime and all.”
Cecily frowned. “Enough has been said on the subject,” she said sternly. “The matter is closed.”
Sid winked. “Gotcha, m’m. Not another word.”
Cecily met his grin with a stony expression. “It might also be as well if you refrained from harassing any of my maids. They have to work extremely hard and they do not have the time or the energy to fend off unwanted overtures from you.”
Sid’s grin wobbled, and for a moment resentment burned in his eyes. Then it was gone, and he looked contrite. “Sorry, m’m. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” Satisfied that she’d got her point across, Cecily turned her back on him and headed once more for the stairs.
Seated at her dressing table a few minutes later, she toyed with a string of pearls as she wondered how she was going to tell her husband she’d invited Ian’s widow to stay indefinitely at the Pennyfoot.
No doubt he would indulge in another fit of temper. Perhaps she should wait until after supper, so that he wouldn’t upset his digestion.
A vision of Archie Parker popped into her head. She could just imagine him offering Baxter a powder to settle his stomach. The image made her smile, just as her husband emerged from the boudoir, his bow tie strung about his neck and dangling on his chest.
“I can’t get this pesky tie to sit straight,” he grumbled. Seating himself on the davenport, he fiddled with it some more before asking irritably, “Would you please tie it for me?”
“Of course.” She dropped the pearls on the table and rose from her seat. “You know you always have trouble with it. Why don’t you simply let me tie it for you instead of trying to do it yourself and getting all in a dither about it?”
“Because I don’t like being dependent on people.”
“No, it’s more likely because you are stubborn.” She leaned over and took the ends of the tie. “Now, be still so I can tie it properly.”
He raised his chin to give her better access. “So how did Gertie take the news that she’s under house arrest?”
Cecily shrugged. “You know Gertie. She took it all in stride, though she’s concerned, of course.”
“Well, of course she is. Being accused of murder is a serious matter. She
“She swears she didn’t kill Ian. I believe her.”
“I hope she’s telling the truth. If only she hadn’t gone around threatening the man loud enough for everyone to hear, Northcott might not have been in such a blasted hurry to arrest her.”
“There.” Cecily surveyed her handiwork with a nod of satisfaction. “Perfect, if I do say so myself.”
Baxter grunted and got up from the bed to peer at himself in her mirror. “Looks all right. Thank you.”
“Not at all.” Cecily sat down at the dressing table once more. “Actually, you know, that’s what puzzles me.”
Baxter frowned. “What? That I can’t tie a bow tie and you can?”
Cecily smiled. “No. It was Northcott saying someone told him that Gertie had threatened Ian with a knife. Yet Gertie insists she and Ian were alone in the kitchen when she did that. So how could anyone have known about it?”
“Well, someone must have seen or heard her.”
“But who? Gertie was quite sure they were alone. Until Clive came along, that is.”
“Clive?” Baxter gave her a sharp look. “Where does he fit into all this?”
“He came to the back door when Gertie was arguing with Ian. Apparently he ran Ian off the premises.”
“Well, good for him.” Baxter paused, an odd look on his face. “You don’t think Clive could have killed him?”
Cecily swallowed, afraid to admit the thought had crossed her mind. “No, of course not. Clive wouldn’t step on
