With a sigh of pure pleasure she chewed it down, then shoved the rest of the pie in her mouth. It tasted even better than it smelled. Swallowing the last of it, she reached for the jug of milk.
She thought about getting a cup, then shrugged and tipped the jug so she could drink a few mouthfuls from it, before replacing it on the shelf. With a quick swipe of her mouth with her sleeve, she grabbed the lamp and hurried out of the pantry, being careful to close the door behind her.
A moment or two later she was back in her room and closing the door. As she was putting the lamp back on the dresser, James spoke from his bed. “Where have you been?”
Gertie spun around, to see both twins sitting up in bed staring at her. “I went out tonight. Remember? I told you I was going to see Uncle Dan.”
“Where did Daisy go?”
He sounded accusing, and Gertie felt guilty. They must have woken up and realized they were alone. “I went to get you these,” she said quickly. She pulled the mince pies from her pocket and took them over to the beds. “Here, you can eat it now if you like.”
James took his and immediately jammed it in his mouth.
Lillian looked at hers as if it would bite her. “What is it?”
“It’s a mince pie.” Gertie nodded at James. “Look, he likes it. You’ve eaten them before. Last Christmas you ate a lot of them, remember?”
Lillian gingerly took the mince pie in her fingers. “Where did the elf go?”
Gertie frowned. “The elf?”
“She’s been dreaming,” James said, his mouth still full of mince pie. “She’s always dreaming, aren’t you Lilly.”
Lillian took a small bite of the pie. “I don’t like it.” She held it out to Gertie.
“I’ll have it.” James grabbed it before Gertie could take it.
“I bet the elf would have liked it,” Lillian said.
“Give that to me.” Gertie took the mince pie away from James. “One is quite enough. Now the two of you, go to sleep. You know Father Christmas is watching you, and if you don’t do what you’re told, he won’t leave you no presents.”
“He sent the elf to watch us, too,” Lillian said, snuggling down under the blankets.
“I told you she’s always dreaming.” James plopped down, too. “Go back to sleep, Lilly.”
For answer Lillian murmured a sleepy “G’night.”
Gertie smiled. “Goodnight you two precious things.” She tucked them up then went back to her own bed. The bedclothes were still rumpled from Daisy’s doze, and she straightened them, then glanced over at the twins. They both appeared to be sleeping. Quickly she popped the rescued mince pie in her mouth, and went over to the dresser.
After pulling out all the pins from her hair she dropped them in the little dish she kept on her dresser. As she did so, she noticed a piece of white cotton poking out from one of her drawers.
Easing the drawer open, she saw all her unmentionables rumpled up and thrown about. That Lillian, she thought darkly. She was always getting into her clothes and trying them on. She’d asked Daisy to see that the twins didn’t touch anything while she was gone, but once that girl got her nose in a book she wouldn’t notice if Father Christmas hisself came down the chimney.
Glancing over at the bedside table, she saw that the clock and the photograph of her, Dan, and the twins had been moved as well. The twins must have had quite a game together while she was gone.
On impulse she crossed the room and opened the wardrobe. Sure enough, her clothes were shoved back to one side and the lid was off her good shoe box. She’d have a word with those little blighters in the morning and set them straight once and for all. No doubt Lillian would blame it all on a bloody elf.
Quickly she undressed and climbed into bed. Now she could close her eyes and dream about Dan asking her to marry him, which was a whole lot more interesting than Lillian’s elves.
CHAPTER 10
Cecily awoke the next morning with a feeling of urgency. Christmas Eve was almost upon them, and once she got caught up in the festivities, there would be no time to pursue her search for Ian’s killer.
The sound of melodic voices drifted down the hallway as she hurried to her office. The carolers were rehearsing for the Christmas Eve carol singing around the Christmas tree.
Cecily couldn’t help the shudder that always ran through her at the thought of candles on the tree. At one time they had been lit as part of the ceremonies, but ever since the day she’d almost lost her life when the tree had burned down, she had forbidden anyone to light them.
At first, she’d wanted to have the trees decorated without candles, but they were so much a part of the tradition, the tree just didn’t look the same without them. In the end she’d asked Madeline to include them in her decorations, just as long as they were never lit again.
Still lost in the unsettling memories, she started violently when a man stepped in front of her in the shadowed hallway.
“Good morning, Mrs. B.” Archie Parker ran a hand across the bald patch on his head. “I was hoping to bump into you. I wanted to ask you about the unfortunate death of that young man. Must be upsetting for you.”
Cecily’s spirits plummeted. Perhaps she’d been naive to think they could keep it a secret from the guests for long, but the last person she wanted to hear of it from was the man standing in front of her. She had no doubt he’d be the kind of person who would delight in spreading the news.
“Most upsetting indeed,” she said, giving him a meaningful look. “Which is why I would hope that our guests do not hear of it. News like that would most certainly put a cloud over the celebrations of Christmas.”
“Oh, indeed.” Archie laid a finger against his nose. “Rest assured, Mrs. B. I wouldn’t mention a word of it to anyone else. Oh, no. Wouldn’t want to spoil it for everyone, now would I. Murder is such a nasty subject at the best of times.”
Cecily regarded him, disturbed once more by the little man’s audacity. “May I ask why you would think the man was murdered?”
Archie’s eyes gleamed in the reflection of the lamplight. “Just a slip of the tongue, Mrs. B. What I meant was, sudden death is never a popular topic of conversation, no matter how it happened.”
“Quite. In any case, at this point we are not in possession of all the facts. Therefore it would be unwise to make assumptions.” Cecily fixed him with a stern glare. “I certainly hope you won’t repeat your conjectures to any of the other guests.”
Archie seemed unfazed by her displeasure. Nodding emphatically, he assured her. “Mum’s the word, Mrs. B. You can rely on me to keep my mouth shut.”
Cecily seriously doubted that, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say that would convince him to keep quiet.
“Must be hard on his wife,” Archie said, his nose twitching. “Rotten time to lose a husband, it being Christmas and all.”
Taken aback, Cecily tried to gather her thoughts. It seemed everyone had sympathy for the grieving widow. It amazed her how fast the news could travel on the grapevine.
This man seemed to know far more than he was entitled to, though it wasn’t clear if he was referring to Gertie or Gloria when he’d mentioned a wife, and she could hardly ask him without saying too much herself.
Archie nodded, taking her silence for agreement. “Yes, indeed. Can’t be easy, what with his two little ones running around to remind her of her loss. I feel sorry for her, that I do.” He paused, looking up at Cecily with a sly expression on his mottled face. “I’d like to offer my help, Mrs. B. I’m… ah… rather good at ferreting out clues and such, and I’d be happy to make a few discreet enquiries on-”
“No!” Aware she’d spoken more sharply than she’d intended, Cecily summoned a smile. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Parker, but-”
“Archie, please.”
Cecily drew a deep breath. “Thank you, Mr. Parker. But there’s really nothing to investigate. As far as we know,
