“I’m sorry.” The housekeeper lowered her voice. “Gertie, what happened?”
“He wanted us to move to London.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Chubb looked up at Clive for help.
Gertie met his gaze and looked away. He was looking at her so intently, he made her nervous.
“Would that be such a terrible thing?”
He’d spoken so quietly she’d barely heard the words. “I don’t know.” She looked down at her daughter’s face. “I just didn’t want to leave everyone we know and go to a strange place where we don’t know anybody. James and Lillian’s friends are all here, and I-” She broke off, appalled to hear the catch in her voice.
Mrs. Chubb patted her on the shoulder. “It’s all right, dear. You don’t have to talk about it now. You’re upset, I can see that. Perhaps you’d feel better if you went and lay down for a while. I can keep an eye on the kiddies.”
Gertie shook her head. “No, we came to sing carols, didn’t we, loves?”
The twins nodded, each of them holding one of Clive’s big hands.
Gertie looked over at the quartet, which was gamely struggling through their rendition of “O Holy Night
Tonight, however, everyone seemed subdued. She could understand why, what with all the terrible things that had been happening at the Pennyfoot lately. Surely madam would be able to find out who did it and see the bugger put away. She was so good at doing that.
Gertie turned back to Mrs. Chubb. “Where did madam go? I can see Mr. Baxter over there, but I can’t see madam anywhere.”
“She was here a few minutes ago.” Mrs. Chubb looked around, too. “I don’t see her now. That’s strange. It’s not like her to leave her guests, especially tonight. The carol singing is her favorite night of the whole Christmas season.”
“I’ll see if I can find her.” Clive gently disengaged himself from the twins’ grasps. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, little ones,” he promised them. Looking at Gertie, he added, “Don’t go away.”
She watched him skirt the guests, sliding along the wall until he reached the door. Then he was gone, the door closing behind him.
She shivered as an odd sensation chased down her back. His words had unsettled her, but even more so, the look he’d given her as he’d said them. Shaking her head, she banished the thoughts from her mind. She’d had enough of men and their confusing behavior.
Dan had been hurt when she’d told him she couldn’t marry him. She hadn’t been prepared for that. It had been too hard to explain why she couldn’t drag her children to London, where their lives would be so utterly different. Or why she couldn’t tear herself away from everyone she loved.
She’d done it once before, when she’d married Ross and moved all the way to Scotland. She’d been so miserable, and deep down she knew the reason Ross had given up his business to come back to work at the Pennyfoot was because of her heartache over leaving Badgers End.
Dan wasn’t like Ross. He would never come back to Badgers End for her. That small hope that she’d been nursing, the chance that if he knew how much it meant to her, he wouldn’t leave, had been crushed tonight.
No, if she wanted him, she and her children would have to be the ones to uproot their lives and go with him. She might have been able to do that, but for one thing. For the one thing she hadn’t told him, or anyone else for that matter, the biggest reason she had refused to marry him, was the fact that in all the time they’d been together, not once had he told her he loved her. Not once. Not even when he’d asked her to marry him.
She wasn’t even sure why he’d asked her. Perhaps for companionship. Perhaps he felt responsible for her and the twins. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t enough.
Gertie Brown McBride simply couldn’t give up everything she knew and loved to marry a man who couldn’t love her. Not for all the money and posh living in the world. That’s all there was to it.
CHAPTER 21
Cecily mentally cursed herself for being so careless. Sir Walter was well aware that she was investigating the murders.
She should have known he would realize the photographs would incriminate him in a lie, thus leading her to her conclusions.
He was between her and the door. Her only chance of escape was to keep him talking and hope that Baxter would soon come looking for her.
“Is there something I can do for you, Sir Walter?” Thankful for her measured tone, she carefully backed around her desk.
Fear gripped her throat, however, when he moved forward, the knife poised to strike. “You should have left well enough alone, Mrs. Baxter. Look where your meddling has led you. I really, truly dislike having to silence you, but I have no choice.”
“I could promise not to say a word to anyone about what I know,” Cecily suggested hopefully.
Sir Walter’s face darkened. “I am in no mood for frivolity. I-” He broke off, passing a hand across his forehead as if in great pain.
“I’m so sorry, you still have your headache. I really think I should fetch a powder for you.” She reached for the bell rope. “Let me ring for the housekeeper.”
“Let go of that this instant!” He brandished the knife in her face and she backed away, out of reach of the rope. “I’m not relishing this moment. I wish you had just minded your own business, then none of this would be at all necessary.”
He really didn’t want to kill her, she realized. Maybe she could take advantage of that. “I’m really sorry. I’ve never been able to resist a puzzle, and you were so clever in everything you did. I greatly admire your fortitude.”
He scowled. “I’m afraid it’s a little too late for sweet words. I must do what I have to do, to preserve the good name of both my wife and myself. The scandal would kill her.”
He moved closer to the desk, forcing her to back up to the wall. Now she had nowhere to go. “I would like to know just one thing.” She edged sideways, one hand supporting herself on the back of her chair. “I would like to know why you went to all the trouble of killing all those people.”
“I was under the impression you knew the reason.”
She shook her head. “I really don’t, and it’s puzzling me greatly. I do know that Ellie worked for you when she was in London. Her mother mentioned that she worked at Rosewood Manor. It was your wife’s handkerchief I found outside the Danvilles’ suite. I realized that the R.M. stood for Rosewood Manor.”
“Ah.” He moved closer. “I wondered where that handkerchief had gone. My wife gave it to me to wrap around a cut on my finger. I’d tucked it in my pocket and forgotten it.”
Strange that she hadn’t seen any blood on the handkerchief, Cecily thought. Then again, she hadn’t unfolded it. “A cut on your finger? Or was it, perhaps, blood from Ellie’s neck when you tore the necklace from her?”
Sir Walter’s face darkened. “That ungrateful little libertine. I gave her that necklace, and she had the audacity to refuse my favors. She left my house without a word to me. Just simply disappeared.”
“So you came here looking for her.”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “I did not! I had all but forgotten the little guttersnipe. My wife and I had heard good things about the Pennyfoot Country Club. We decided to spend our Christmas here for a change. I had not the faintest inkling that
“Is that why you killed Charlie?”
He frowned. “Charlie?”
“The footman. You were jealous of him?”
He uttered a short, contemptuous laugh. “Jealous? Great heavens, no. That evening, after the banquet, I saw Ellie Tidwell again crossing the yard. I followed her, intending to have it out with her. She was quite insolent,
