Decked With Folly

Christmas. Not after he tried to take away my babies.” She flicked a wary glance at Cecily. “Does that make me a wicked woman, m’m?”

Cecily let out her breath on a sigh. “Of course not, Gertie. I know you’ve been living with the fear of losing your twins ever since Ian tried to kidnap little Lillian. I can understand how you feel, now that their father is no longer a threat.”

Gertie sighed. “He should never have married me, knowing he was still married to his real wife. He should have been honest from the start.”

“I think he felt obligated once he found out you were having his baby. He wanted to do the right thing.”

“The right thing? By me or by his real wife?” Gertie rose, her face hard with bitterness. “He did neither one of us a favor. It was stupid of me to get in the family way before I was married, I admit that. But that didn’t give him the right to pretend he was free to marry me when he had a wife sitting at home, did it. We went through that whole wedding in the church and everything. He was a cheat and a liar, and bloody dangerous at that. I’m not really sorry he’s dead. I don’t care if that does make me a wicked woman. I’m bleeding glad to be rid of him.”

She rushed to the door, paused, and with a sob in her voice, muttered, “Excuse me, m’m. I must get back to the dining room.” Without waiting for permission she dropped a stiff curtsey and flew outside.

The door closed sharply behind her and Cecily winced. She hadn’t handled that well at all, but something about Gertie’s attitude worried her.

It was no secret to anyone that the volatile housemaid had threatened to kill Ian on more than one occasion. Not that she didn’t have good cause to hate the man. Some people, however, might get the notion that Gertie had something to do with Ian’s untimely death.

Cecily shook her head, impatient with herself. It was an accident, nothing more. She was worrying about nothing. She had sent for Kevin Prestwick and he would be there soon. He would make it official, setting her fears to rest. She would just have to wait until then.

Gertie’s headlong rush down the corridor almost ended in disaster as she rounded the corner. Since breakfast was still being served she hadn’t expected to encounter anyone on her mad dash back to the dining room, but just as she reached the corner a man stepped out in front of her, then leapt back as she charged right into him.

“Strewth!” The man mopped his forehead, thrusting a thick lock of red hair out of his eyes. “I thought you were going to bowl me right over.”

Having barely bumped him, Gertie tossed her head. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t see you coming.”

“Oh, that’s all right, me ol’ darlin’.” The man winked at her. “I don’t mind being bumped into by a beauty such as yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Gertie made to pass him by, but he laid a hand on her arm.

“Hold on a minute, what’s yer blinking hurry? We were just getting acquainted. Let me introduce myself. I’m Sid Barrett-a gentleman and a scholar.” He grinned. “I think my Christmas just took a turn for the better.”

“If you’ll excuse me, sir…” Gertie dragged her arm free of his grasp. “I’m needed in the dining room.”

“Oh, right ho. Maybe later then.” He tilted his head to one side. “P’raps you and me could have a pint or two down the old George and Dragon, eh?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but the servants are not allowed to mix with the guests.”

Without waiting for his answer, she took off once more, shaking her head as Sid Barrett called out after her, “I’ll try and catch you later, luv!”

“Not if I see you coming first,” she muttered under her breath. Saucy blighter. Here she was, the mother of twins and all.

Twins who now had no father.

The realization hit her under the ribs, making her gasp for breath. Not that Ian had been any kind of father to the twins. They hadn’t known he existed until a year ago… and even now they had no idea he was their father. He hadn’t set eyes on his kids until last Christmas, when he’d suddenly decided he wanted to take one of them back to London with him. Gertie still couldn’t understand why he’d waited all these years, and why now. Not that it mattered. Ian was dead. She knew she should be sad about that, and in a way she was sorry he’d passed on at such an early age. But now she was free, and her kids were safe forever. That’s all that mattered. And she was not going to let Ian Rossiter spoil another Christmas for her. Never again.

Reaching the door of the dining room, Gertie paused, her smile spreading over her face. She had Dan to keep her company now. In the short time she’d known him, he’d become more of a father figure to her little ones than Ian had ever been. Dan Perkins, who used to own Abbitson’s butcher’s shop, and who’d swept her off her feet with his ability to make her laugh out loud and his kindness to her children.

Her, Dan, Lillian, and James. They were like a family now, and even though Dan had never mentioned marriage to her, she nursed a strong hope that someday soon he’d ask her to be his wife. And that, she decided, would be worth all the bother she’d put up with from the late Mr. Ian Rossiter.

What’s more, she had nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing at all.

Cecily looked up as the door swung open, half expecting to see Gertie standing there again. The tall, silver- haired man who entered, however, looked every bit as upset as her housemaid, if not more so.

“What the blazes is going on? I just saw Samuel and Clive in the stables and neither one of them will tell me what they’re up to. They told me to ask you.”

Cecily lifted a grave face to her husband. “I was just coming to tell you, dear. I’m afraid I have some rather bad news.”

Baxter stared at her, his irritation turning to alarm. “Don’t tell me… oh good Lord.” He flipped his tails and sat down on the chair Gertie had vacated. “Who is it this time? One of the guests?”

“No, dear. It’s not one of the guests. I’m afraid it’s Ian Rossiter.”

Baxter’s eyes widened. “That scoundrel? What on earth was he doing here? What happened to him?”

“Apparently he fell into the duck pond and drowned.”

Baxter pinched his lips. “Are you pulling my leg, because if so-”

“No, dear. I wouldn’t joke about a dreadful tragedy such as this.”

“The duck pond is less than two feet deep.”

“Yes, dear, I am aware of that. Clive says the dead man smelled of spirits. He must have been drinking and fainted or something. It appears that he hit his head when he fell into the pond.”

“Good Lord. Poor blighter. What in heaven’s name was he doing out by the duck pond?” Baxter shook his head. “For that matter, what was he doing here at the Pennyfoot? Did you know he was down here? I thought he was in London.”

“Precisely the impression I had, as well.”

“Have you sent for Prestwick and that fool policeman? I suppose we shall have to put up with his inept bungling as usual.”

“Yes, I’ve sent for both Dr. Prestwick and P.C. Northcott.” Cecily got up from her chair and rounded the desk to her husband’s side. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she leaned over to murmur in his ear. “Do try to be civil to them both, Bax, dear. It is the season of good cheer, after all.”

Baxter grunted. “Prestwick I can take, in small doses. That idiot constable, however, is another matter. I can’t imagine how he keeps his job. Surely Inspector Cranshaw can see Northcott for the worthless twit he is?”

Cecily shuddered, as she always did at the mention of the inspector’s name. The detestable man had sworn to close down the Pennyfoot years ago, when he suspected her of illegally running card rooms.

He had never been able to prove their existence, thanks to the well-hidden area beneath the floorboards of the wine cellar, and now that the Pennyfoot was a country club, her license allowed her to run the card games within the law.

Cranshaw, however, still bore a grudge, and was always on the lookout for any infraction that might lead to the closure of the club, and the banishment of what he considered a thorn in his side, namely Cecily Sinclair Baxter.

“Well,” she said, dismissing the despised man from her mind, “since this is obviously an accident, Sam Northcott will have little to do but write a simple report. As for Kevin, he will remove the body and write his own report, and then we shall be done with the whole sad business.”

She returned to her desk and sat down. “I just hope they get here soon so we get it over with.”