Herald Of Death

Warm with embarrassment, she shoved him away and backed off a few steps. “You bloody scared me to death,” she said, holding a hand over her heart. She could actually feel it pounding beneath her fingers.

“What are you doing up here this time of night?”

She peered up at him. He looked different against the flickering glow from the gas lamps behind him. Sort of dark and mysterious.

She felt awkward again, and wished he would go back to being the familiar friend who’d always made her feel comfortable. “I brought you some wicks.” Remembering that she dropped them, she looked back behind her. “They’re down there somewhere.”

“Wicks?”

His voice sounded funny, and she frowned. “Yeah, wicks. Pansy said you needed some new ones and she hurt her knee so I brought them up instead.”

“I see.”

He still sounded strange. She turned back to look for the box, mumbling, “I wish I did.”

“Never mind, Gertie. I’ll find them.” He came up behind her, and she flattened herself against the wall to let him pass.

“Wait!” Suddenly remembering what had scared her in the first place, she grabbed hold of his sleeve. “I think there’s someone in the ballroom. I could hear him moving around. I thought it was you.”

“In the ballroom? I’ll take a look. Wait here.”

“Not on your bloody life. I’m coming with you.” She took a tighter hold of his arm. “I don’t want to be alone out here.”

“All right, but stay behind me. Just in case.”

In case of what? She decided she didn’t want the answer to that. Creeping along behind his bulky body, she felt both scared and strangely exhilarated. Clive could take care of anyone, she told herself. Even the Christmas Angel. He would protect her. She liked the idea of that.

Clive halted, making her bump her nose on his back. “Sorry,” she muttered, then shut her mouth when he sharply lifted his hand.

She could just make out the outline of the doors to the ballroom. Very carefully, Clive pushed one open and stepped forward.

Gertie had a desperate urge to wrap her arms around his waist, but managed to restrain herself. She realized she’d been holding her breath too long and let it out on a puff of anxiety.

She heard the sound of rustling from across the room and ducked behind her protector, closing her eyes, though it was too dark to see anything anyway.

Clive stood so still she wondered if he was paralyzed with fright. Then, without warning, he uttered what sounded like a low curse and strode forward into the shadows, leaving her shivering alone by the door.

Her first instinct was to turn and run for her life, but the thought of Clive at the mercy of a deranged killer was too terrible to bear.

Flinging herself forward, she yelled, “You leave him alone, you murdering sod, or I’ll tear out your bleeding liver with my bare hands!”

Clive was over by the window. She could see his outline as she belted toward him.

He called out, “Gertie! Wait!” but she was on him, trying to drag him back toward the door.

“Come on, come on,” she said, over and over when he refused to move.

“Gertie.” His voice was gentle and not at all scared, like she would have expected him to be when facing a murderer.

It dawned on her then that maybe it wasn’t the Christmas Angel threatening him after all. In fact, she realized several things at once. That the window behind Clive was partly opened and the rustling sound was coming from the garlands hanging above them. That Clive smelled like the woods after a rainstorm-clean, fresh, and earthy. That he had his arms around her. That she liked it.

Coming to her senses and feeling foolish now, she backed away from him. “I thought…” She couldn’t finish what she’d thought.

“I know what you thought.”

Anyone else would have made fun of her, but he didn’t sound in the least bit amused. In fact, his voice sounded strange again, as if he was having trouble getting the words out.

She felt all shivery herself, hot and cold all at the same time. “So it was the wind making the decorations move,” she said, striving to sound normal.

“Yes.” He took a step toward her and she wished she could see his face. “Look, I don’t blame you for thinking it was… an intruder. I thought the same thing myself when I first came in here.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did. And, Gertie…”

“Yes?”

“That was very brave, and extremely good of you to come to my aid, considering what you thought was out there.”

She couldn’t seem to find the words she wanted. All she could manage was a mumbled, “That’s all right.”

“I won’t forget it, Gertie.” He took another step forward. “It meant a great deal to me.”

Warning bells started going off in her head. She didn’t want to feel this way. This was how it had started with Dan, and look at what had happened there. He’d broken her heart. She couldn’t go through that again. She didn’t ever want to hurt like that again.

“It’s nothing,” she said, backing away. “I would have done it for anyone.” With that, she turned and fled from the ballroom and didn’t stop running until she was safely inside her room with the door shut firmly behind her.

CHAPTER 18

“We will be going to Caroline’s Blanchard house,” Cecily told Samuel the next morning. “My gown should be ready by now.”

Holding open the door of the carriage for her, Samuel’s face lit up. “I’ll be happy to take you there, m’m.”

Cecily hauled herself up into the carriage. “Well, I also have to do a little shopping in town, so we’ll go there first.”

“Yes, m’m. Where to, then?”

“To Willow’s shoe shop. But before we go, I need to talk to you about something.” Cecily leaned forward and patted the seat opposite her. “Come and sit here for a moment while I explain. We won’t be overheard in here.”

Samuel’s expression grew guarded. “We’re not going to do anything dangerous, are we, m’m?”

“No more than usual, Samuel.” Cecily patted the seat again. “Come, we have no time to waste.”

Samuel took his time climbing onto the seat opposite her. “You know what Mr. Baxter said about me letting you get yourself into trouble again?”

Cecily pulled a face. “No, but I can imagine.”

“He said he’d send me packing.” Samuel folded his arms. “That’s what he said.”

“Piffle. You know very well we could not manage without you.”

“He was very clear on that, m’m.”

“Well, he doesn’t do the hiring and firing in this establishment. I do, so don’t you worry about it.” She smiled at him. “Cheer up, Samuel. This is another adventure and you know you always enjoy our adventures.”

“I have a nasty feeling I’m not going to like this one.”

Cecily sighed. “Let me tell you what I have in mind. Then, if you decide you don’t want to come along, I’ll understand.”

He gave her a suspicious look. “All right.”

Cecily leaned forward and, in spite of the rattle of carriages and clip-clop of horses’ hooves passing by, lowered her voice. “I have reason to believe that Lester Salt is the Christmas Angel.”

Samuel’s eyes widened. “Go on! What makes you think so?”