“How awful! You could have been killed!” Pansy stared at Samuel in horror, chilled by the story he had just told her.
“Yeah, if it weren’t for the bobby and Dr. Prestwick turning up,” Samuel agreed. “They saved my life, as well as madam’s and Mrs. Prestwick’s, too.”
Pansy shivered, hugging her shoulders. It was always cold in the stables, but right then, after listening to Samuel’s tale, she felt colder than she’d ever felt before. “I’m just glad you’re safe,” she said, moving closer to hug him.
His arms around her immediately made her feel warmer. Tess came up to them and nuzzled Pansy with her nose. Laughing, Pansy knelt to hug the dog, too. “So Caroline Blanchard was the Christmas Angel, like madam thought.”
Samuel patted Tess’s head. “Yeah. I still find it hard to believe. She didn’t look like a killer.”
“Will she go to prison?”
Samuel shrugged. “I dunno. I suppose that will be up to a judge and jury to decide.”
“What will happen to all her cats and dogs if she goes to prison?”
Samuel looked miserable. “I dunno. I hope they can all find good homes.”
Pansy glanced around the stables. “I don’t suppose they could stay here.”
“Madam would never allow that. She wasn’t too happy about me keeping Tess.”
Pansy gave the dog another hug. “Well, I’m glad she did let you keep her.” She scratched Tess’s ear. “What would we do without her now?”
Samuel grinned. “We?”
Red-faced, Pansy stood up. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
Aware he was teasing her, she went on the defensive. “Well, I’ve got something to tell you. We had the final dress rehearsal for
The amusement drained out of Samuel’s face. “You’re really enjoying being in that pantomime, aren’t you.“
Pansy clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. “Oh, yes. It’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever done in my life. When I’m up there, I’m in another world. I feel important, special, like everyone’s watching me and loving me. I’ve never felt like that before.”
She opened her eyes to see an agonized expression on his face. It was gone so quickly she thought she might have imagined it, but something in his eyes told her he wasn’t as happy for her as she’d expected him to be.
Catching his sleeve, she said earnestly, “You must come and see me, Samuel. At the performance. You must see me being Tinker Bell.”
“Of course I will.”
His voice was gruff, as if he was having trouble getting the words out.
“It’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She was talking fast, words spilling out in her excitement. “I want to be onstage in London and Paris and Rome.” She waved a hand in the air. “All over the world.”
He still had that strange look on his face. It was as if he was pulling away from her, shutting himself off so she couldn’t reach him.
Worried now, she shook his arm. “I want you to be proud of me, Samuel. I want you to look at me the way you look at Doris.”
It was out before she’d known she was going to say it. Samuel pulled away from her, shaking her hand free, turning his back on her.
Tears formed in her eyes, dribbling down her cheeks. “What is it, Samuel? Why are you so cross with me?”
“I’m not cross with you.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m disappointed, that’s all.”
“Disappointed? I don’t understand.”
He turned back swiftly, grabbing her shoulders with rough hands. “Doris did that to me,” he said, his voice harsh with anger. “She let me fall in love with her and then she abandoned me for the stage. I couldn’t compete with all those toffs waiting for her every night at the stage door. They made me feel I wasn’t good enough to lick their boots.”
Sobbing, Pansy tried to free herself from his grip. “I’m sorry, Samuel. But that wasn’t my fault.”
“You’re doing the same thing, don’t you see?” He let her go so suddenly she almost fell. “You’ll go off with her to London to be on the stage, and I’ll never see you again.”
Pansy stared at him, her heart pounding and her tears drying on her cheeks. “Are you saying you’d miss me?”
“Course I’ll miss you!” He threw a hand up in the air. “I love you, don’t I. I can’t stand the thought of you breaking my heart the way Doris did.”
“Oh, my.” Pansy drew a deep breath, then let out a shriek that made Tess bark. Throwing herself at Samuel, she clung to his neck. “I love you, too, Samuel, and I would never leave you to go on the stage.
Samuel seemed to have trouble finding his voice. “Really?”
“Really.” She looked up into his face. She’d been wrong. Being onstage wasn’t the most exciting feeling in the world. Being in Samuel’s arms, hearing him say he loved her-that was the most wonderful, thrilling feeling she’d ever known. She was going to remember it for the rest of her life. “Happy Christmas, Samuel.”
He gave her the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen. “Happy Christmas, my love.”
“Where the devil have you been?” Baxter stared in horror as Cecily hurried over to the fire and stood shivering in front of it. “You look like you’ve been swimming in the ocean.”
“I’ve been up on Putney Downs.” Cecily couldn’t seem to stop her teeth chattering, though whether it was from the cold or the drama she’d just been through, she couldn’t tell.
“What on earth for?” Frowning, Baxter approached her. “You’re soaking wet. What were you doing up there?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Catching the Christmas Angel.”
“Good Lord! Tell me what happened. No, get out of those wet clothes first, then tell me what happened. I’ll send for some hot cocoa.”
Feeling a little steadier, Cecily headed for the boudoir. “Tell them to put some brandy in it. Oh, and I’d like some of Mrs. Chubb’s mince pies. I feel like celebrating.”
By the time she had changed out of her wet and muddy clothes and into a warm woolen frock, she was feeling quite exhilarated. A dangerous killer was safely behind bars, the snow had gone, and Christmas was a week away. The Pennyfoot was ready for the Christmas guests, and all was well with her world.
Joining Baxter in the sitting room, she accepted the steaming cup of cocoa he handed her and sniffed it to make sure the kitchen staff had added the brandy.
The welcoming warmth sliding down to her stomach was most satisfying, and she sat down with a sigh of pleasure in front of the fire. Baxter had stoked it, and flames licked the shiny black lumps of coal, creating a smoldering red glow of heat.
“Now,” Baxter said, as he sat opposite her, “tell me what happened.”
She told him, leaving out the moment when Madeline called forth her powers to create the lightning bolt that saved them. “It was a miracle,” she said instead. “Madeline called it divine intervention.”
“I’m inclined to agree.” He tilted his head on one side. “Are you telling me everything?”
“Everything I know.” Cecily stared into the fire. “I was so certain Lester Salt was the killer at first. I don’t know how I could have been so misled.”
Baxter finished off his mince pie and leaned back. “So when did you realize it wasn’t Lester Salt?”
“When I learned that his book on mysticism wasn’t what I thought. Until then I was convinced he was practicing black magic. Then he told me that Caroline Blanchard had told him that Thomas Willow’s dog refused to leave his side when he died. He’d already told me that he rang the constabulary when the dog returned without Thomas, so how would Caroline have known that about the dog unless she’d been there?”
“Good point.” Baxter laced his fingers together. “Still, she could have seen someone else kill Thomas and been
