around. I thought, since we’ve had trouble with rats in the past, that I might keep her around, m’m, just to help out, like. If that’s all right with you?”
Cecily puffed out her breath. In her opinion, horses and motorcars didn’t mix well with dogs, and she would never allow one inside the Pennyfoot. Samuel, however, was not only a trusted employee, he was just as much a part of her family as the rest of her staff. Those beseeching eyes were simply too hard to ignore.
“Very well.” She held up her hand as Samuel gushed his thanks. “Just remember, you are responsible for the animal. One hint of trouble with her and out she goes.”
“Yes, m’m. There won’t be no trouble, I swear. I’ll take really good care of her. Just wait until you meet her, m’m. She’s really lovable and cuddly. You’ll love her to death, I know.”
Cecily hid a smile. It was unusual for Samuel to be so forthcoming. He was a somewhat serious young man, always sticking strictly to protocol. Whenever she wanted to know what he was thinking it took considerable effort on her part to drag it out of him.
To see him so enthused and excited gladdened her heart, and she looked forward to meeting the creature that had inspired her stable manager to such eager anticipation. “Well now,” she said briskly, “I must talk to Mrs. Tidwell. You are welcome to come inside with me, if you like.”
He donned his cap and touched his forehead. “Thank you, m’m, but I’d prefer to wait out here if it’s all the same to you.”
“Of course. Whatever you wish.” She left him then, and walked up the narrow gravel path to the porch. Empty plant pots sat on either side, waiting for the spring so they could be filled again with gorgeous blossoms. Cecily looked forward to that time. How she disliked the winter, with its dreary skies and chilly winds.
She disliked even more having to face the mother of a missing child. She could only hope that Mrs. Tidwell would be able to tell her something that would help find Ellie. Lifting her hand, she rapped on the door.
CHAPTER 6
The door opened moments later, emitting the heavenly fragrance of freshly baked bread. Having eaten hours earlier, Cecily hungered for a thick slice of buttered toast.
The woman who stood framed in the doorway wore an anxious frown. A white cap was perched on her graying curls, and wrapped around her waist was a threadbare apron covered in flour. Her fingers were covered in the white stuff as she lifted a hand to her face, leaving a powdery streak across her cheek.
“Mrs. Baxter! How good of you to call! Is it Ellie? Have you found my daughter?”
Cecily thrust out her hand to lay it on the woman’s slender arm. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Tidwell. Actually, I was hoping you’d have word of her for me.”
The woman’s face crumpled. “I wish I did, m’m. I can’t think where she’d be.” As if remembering her manners, she drew back. “Please, do come in.”
“Well, just for a moment.” Cecily stepped inside the cozy cottage, where the aroma of the baking bread was even more enticing.
Mrs. Tidwell motioned her to a seat on the chintz-covered sofa. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
Cecily was about to politely refuse when the other woman added, “Perhaps a slice of bread and jam? I’ve just baked a loaf of bread. I always bake when I’m worried. Gives me something else to think about, it does.”
Cecily almost smacked her lips. “Well, if you insist. That sounds wonderful.” She took a moment to look around as Ellie’s mother hurried off to the kitchen.
It was a pleasant room, small but comfortable, with bright flowered curtains at the windows and a soft green carpet under her feet. An oil lamp had been lit to ward off the early winter dusk, and hot coals glowed a dark red in the fireplace.
In one corner shelves had been crammed with books, and unable to resist, Cecily got up to scan the titles. She was still studying them when Mrs. Tidwell returned with a loaded tray.
“I see you enjoy reading,” Cecily commented, as she returned to her seat. “I notice you have the latest book by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”
“Yes,
“As did I.” Cecily took the cup and saucer from her. “I’ve read everything that man has written. He is my favorite author. Such a talent.”
“Indeed.” Mrs. Tidwell offered her a plate with two slices of buttered bread smothered in thick strawberry jam.
Cecily hastily put down her tea and took the plate. “This looks delicious. Thank you.”
Nodding, Ellie’s mother sank on a chair across the room. “Mrs. Baxter, do you have any idea at all as to what might have happened to my daughter?”
Cecily paused, the delectable treat halfway to her mouth. “I wish I did. I’m afraid no one has seen Ellie since she left the Pennyfoot last night.” She took a dainty bite, feeling guilty for enjoying the morsel. “Does she perhaps have friends she might be visiting?”
“None that I know of.” Mrs. Tidwell rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “Ellie has changed, though, since she went to work in London. I never thought she’d go. She wasn’t the sort of girl who would act on impulse, but after the problem she had with Mr. Docker, she seemed almost desperate to leave Badgers End.”
Cecily swallowed her mouthful of bread a little too fast. Coughing, she sought her handkerchief tucked in her sleeve and drew it out to blow her nose. “Please excuse me,” she muttered, a little hoarsely, “but you did say Mr. Docker, didn’t you? Is that, by any chance, Mick Docker, the roofer?”
Mrs. Tidwell nodded. “The big Irishman. He was sweet on my Ellie. She met him two years ago, and he kept pestering her to go out with him, but she kept putting him off. He’d been married before, you see. Lost his wife when she caught a cold and it went into pneumonia. Ellie said as how she didn’t wanted secondhand goods. Besides, he was much too old for her.”
Still trying to clear her throat, Cecily nodded.
“Anyway,” Mrs. Tidwell continued, “she finally got up the courage to tell him how she felt. Well, he must have flown into a rage or something. She wouldn’t talk about it but I could tell she was worried about it. Right after that she told me she’d got a job as scullery maid at Rosewood Manor in London.”
“I see.” Cecily put down her plate. “Has she had any dealings with Mr. Docker since she’s been back?”
“I really couldn’t say. Our Ellie doesn’t tell me much these days. I do know she wasn’t happy in the city. She was only there a few months before she came back. I think that serial killer really frightened her. It was in the same district where she lived that they found the bodies of those poor young girls.” Mrs. Tidwell shook her head. “I know she was troubled about something, but she won’t talk to me about it. Got really secretive, she has.”
“I understand your son is searching for her.”
“Yes, he is. He’s got some of his friends helping him and all, so I’m hoping they find her soon. It’s not like her to stay out all night without telling me where she is.”
She paused, as if remembering something. “Though, I have to say, she did it once before. Last summer, it was. Worried me sick. I thought something terrible had happened to her, but she turned up the next morning right as rain. She said she spent the night on the beach. Told me she didn’t feel like coming home. I could tell something had upset her then, but she wouldn’t say what it was.”
Cecily finished the last piece of her bread and jam, then reached for her tea. “It’s a little cold to be staying out on the beach this time of year.”
“Yes, I know. I’m hoping she found somewhere warm to stay, though why she feels she can’t come home and tell me about things, I really don’t know.”
Having drained her cup, Cecily rose. “Well, these young girls are hard to understand sometimes. I do hope you find Ellie soon. Please tell her that we miss her at the Pennyfoot, and look forward to her return.”
“I will do that, Mrs. Baxter. Thank you.” Mrs. Tidwell got to her feet, her face lined with worry.
Having said her good-byes, Cecily headed down the path to where Samuel waited in the carriage. She still felt guilty for enjoying the woman’s hospitality when she was so obviously worried about her daughter.
