A Gilded Grave (18 page)

“You think those two—”

“No . . . but doesn’t it seem a little coincidental? Almost like they knew where to look. But no, they couldn’t, because this time they found Joe kneeling over the body.”

“Mr. Joseph? No, miss. He’s not that kind of gentleman. Orrin says—”

“I think we can dispense with ‘Orrin says’ for a moment.”

Elspeth nodded.

“Then Will and some other men came, just like the other night. And a policeman took photographs.”

“He never.”

“He did. All around what Will called the ‘crime scene.’ But something strange happened.”

Elspeth’s eyes widened and she leaned forward.

“When we got there, Vlady had beaten us and he was holding a lantern overhead. There was Joe and behind them was Charles Woodruff and Madeline Manchester.”

“They’d come to see, too?”

“They were standing beyond Vlady and Joe and the dead girl. I think they were already there, or somewhere nearby. And up to no good.”

“Why, that— My ma would wash my mouth out if I said what she is. Making up to Adelaide’s intended
and
doing those unnatural things with her brother. Mr. Charles should know
better.” Elspeth fell silent. “Maybe that voodoo man put a spell on him.”

“I think if anyone’s casting spells, it’s Madeline and not Swan.”

“Are you going to tell your mother?”

“I don’t know. But until Will finds out who really killed those girls, I don’t think you should go anywhere alone. In fact, I don’t even want you sleeping in the servants’ wing. Have one of the parlor maids make you up a bed in the dressing room.”

“But, Miss Deanna, I might be able to learn something if I stay with the other maids.”

“I don’t care. From now on we stick together.”

There was a
rat-tat
at the door and they both jumped. Deanna shooed Elspeth into the other room, then stood and fluffed her skirt. She glanced at the dressing-room door, where the door was left open an inch, just enough for an enterprising maid to keep an eye and ear on her mistress.

“Come in.”

The door to her bedroom opened. Madeline slipped in and closed it behind her. “I think I should explain.”

I
t took Deanna a second to get over her surprise at seeing Madeline dressed in a white-and-gold night dress. Her hair was unclasped but not yet put up for the night. It flowed around her shoulders like golden threads.

Madeline did owe them all an explanation, but Deanna wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. She considered playing dumb, and saying, “Whatever do you mean?” But Madeline was not slow. So Deanna motioned to the chair Elspeth had just vacated.

Madeline sat down.
Reluctantly
, thought Deanna. Well, she should be contrite. Then Deanna remembered what her old governess used to say about catching flies with honey. And even if Deanna couldn’t quite accuse Madeline of being that disgusting insect, she still didn’t like her very much right now.

Deanna sat on the dressing table bench. And waited.

There was a brief but awkward silence, then Madeline
blurted out, “I saw you looking at Charles and me on the beach, when we discovered Joe kneeling over the dead girl.”

Deanna held her tongue.

“You’re probably thinking that we shouldn’t have been there—together.”

Deanna tilted her head coldly. Having watched her mother all these years, Deanna knew how to make someone squirm. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the usual affect on Madeline, who sat demurely looking into her hands, the picture of unhappiness.

Deanna started to thaw.

“We were just walking. I’ve seen Swan doing his magic show so many times, and Charles suggested that we look at the view from the top of the rocks. And it was so lovely, until—”

Deanna began to have doubts. Maybe Charles had loosened his waistcoat while he was sitting on the sand. Some of the fellows had taken off their jackets. In the dark he might not have noticed that he’d buttoned it wrong.

But they’d been standing so close. And they really shouldn’t have been walking out alone, regardless, especially since Charles was an engaged man.

“We were standing there looking over the water, and I know it probably wasn’t the correct thing to do, but you see, things are much different in Barbados, and I sometimes don’t remember that manners are much stricter here.”

Still Deanna waited. She wanted to believe Madeline, mainly for Adelaide’s sake, but recalled the image of Charles with his arm around her, her head on his shoulder. . . .

“I was feeling faint, seeing that poor girl and Joseph Ballard leaning over her. It was such a shock.” Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “It was terrible.”

“Weren’t you the first to find her?”

Madeline blinked quickly several times. “What? No. We were standing above, and Charles—well, I’ll tell you, but please don’t tell Cassie—Charles and I saw something, so we climbed down and there they were. And I screamed.”

“That was you?”

Deanna didn’t remember Madeline volunteering that information to Will. “Why didn’t you say so when we were all there? We thought it must have been Claire.”

“Who is Claire?”

“The girl who was killed. Her name was Claire.”

“Oh.” Madeline pulled a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “I was afraid. I’m not one of you, and I thought people would get all the wrong ideas. That’s selfish of me, I know. I suppose I am a selfish creature. But beyond that, how could I say anything when I would’ve had to tell them that your friend Joseph was the murderer?”

“He wasn’t.” The denial rolled out before Deanna could stop it.

“Oh, my dear, I know he’s your friend, but he was there, kneeling over her. What else was he doing there, down among the rocks?”

This wasn’t what Deanna had expected. Another damning accusation against Joe. She needed to talk to him and get him to tell her exactly what was going on. What he was doing on the cliff, when he’d just left her a few minutes before. Meeting the maid? It didn’t make sense.

And what could she say to Madeline, looking lovely and repentant and innocent, and yet whom Deanna had seen kissing her own brother? Deanna could barely repulse a shudder.

“I don’t usually get so hysterical. But with the murder of
the first maid and now this? Well, things like that just don’t happen in Barbados . . . at least not that I’ve ever been privy to.” Madeline lowered her head, the golden curls reflecting the light. “Can I tell you something?”

Deanna nodded slightly. “I guess.” She wished she’d tell her something that made sense.

Madaeline looked up. “And you promise you won’t tell anyone?”

Deanna wasn’t sure about that, but she crossed her fingers and nodded again.

“You may hate me.”

“Just say it.” Deanna smiled quickly, hopefully looking sympathetic while she chastised herself.
More flies with honey, more flies with honey.
“You can tell me. Anything.” She smiled again, but her heart was pounding. She didn’t like misleading people, but in her few months in society, she’d learned that it was common practice and sometimes necessary. Besides, Kate Goelet had been known to prevaricate in the course of an investigation. And what was this if not an investigation?

“I do like Charles. Actually”—Madeline paused to dab at her eyes—“I love him. And he loves me. I know he’s engaged to your sister, and I don’t blame you if you never speak to me again, but I have to be honest. We didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. I think he was feeling depressed because Adelaide is so sickly and he’s afraid that she will always be sickly.”

Cassie’s words burned in Deanna’s mind.
With Adelaide always getting the headache, it can’t be fun for him.

“I know we’re doomed not to be together.”

Deanna had a hard time keeping her countenance. Charles Woodruff was no Romeo.

“But I’ll be leaving soon. As soon as David finishes up this
sugar business with your father and Mr. Woodruff, I’ll go back to Barbados, and Charles will forget about me and marry your sister.” Two large tears appeared from her swimming eyes. This time Madeline didn’t try to stop them from rolling down her cheeks. “And I—well, I’ll get over him, too—in time.”

Deanna didn’t know what to do with that confession. Her first reaction was to say,
Take him. Why would Adelaide want someone so fickle and disloyal?
But she didn’t know what Adelaide would want, so she held her tongue.

“Please forgive me, and don’t say anything. Nothing will come of it, and everything will go back to normal when we’re gone.”

Deanna doubted that. She’d never be able to look at Charles Woodruff again without thinking he was a two-timing cheat.

Madeline looked heartbroken sitting there with her head bowed, the light shining down on her penitent pose, but Deanna just wanted to tear that lovely blonde hair from her head.
Innocence Driving the Harlot from Her Home.

But Deanna wasn’t exactly innocent and Madeline wasn’t exactly a harlot . . . was she?
Flies with honey
, she reminded herself.

Deanna stood. “Well, it’s unfortunate, but it isn’t too late to save your”—Deanna nearly choked on the next word—“reputation. And if Charles truly loves you, then what can I say to it?”

Madeline looked up, searched her face through her tears.

“You should probably get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning,” Deanna said.

Madeline stood slowly. “Thank you.” She took Deanna’s hand and pressed it, then hurried from the room.

Deanna waited until the door closed before she wiped her hand on her skirt.

Elspeth stuck her head out the half-closed dressing-room door. “Is she gone?”

Deanna nodded.

Elspeth stepped into the room. “I don’t like her.”

“No. Nor do I trust her.” Deanna sank back on the bench. “But what are we going to do about her and Charles?”

“I say good riddance. Maybe when the Manchesters go back to Barbados, they’ll take Mr. Charles with them.”

“But just think of the humiliation to Adelaide.”

“Women get over humiliation, if they’re smart. You don’t get over a loveless marriage.”

“Elspeth, I had no idea you were so philosophical.”

“It isn’t philosophy. All you have to do is look around. Hardly any woman in your class is happy.”

Shocked, Deanna said, “My mother is.”

“Because she always gets her way.”

Deanna couldn’t deny that. “What about Mrs. Woodruff?”

“Because what she don’t know don’t hurt her.”

“What do mean?”

“Sometimes I wonder about you, Miss Deanna. Because Mr. Woodruff’s quite a womanizer . . . among other things.”

“No,” Deanna replied, shocked. “I know some men are, but not Mr. Woodrfuff.”

Elspeth sighed. “Most of your menfolk are. Mr. Woodruff is no exception. You know all those trips he goes on?”

“For business.”

“Well, he’s not against mixing some pleasure with it.”

“Mr. Woodruff? I don’t believe it.”

“Well, the laundry maids know better than you or Mrs. Woodruff.”

“The laundry maids? He wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t he? Most of the men take advantage of the servants or keep a fancy lady in town. Then there’s the gambling.”

“All men gamble a bit. It’s expected.”

“And how many have blown their brains out because they lost their wives’ money?”

Deanna blinked.

“Maybe it’s best you don’t know about these things. We’re so busy reading about poor working girls and lady detectives . . . They oughta write books about poor rich women. They say Mr. Woodruff already spent his inheritance. All this house and stuff was paid for by Mrs. Woodruff’s money. And half this side of town laughs at her behind her back.”

“How do you know these things?”

Elspeth sighed. “Miss, if you want to know what really goes on in these fancy houses and these richer-than-anything families, just ask someone belowstairs. They hear and see it all, and they are not above talking about it. Heck, that Colonel Mann with his
Town Topics
will even pay for a good tidbit for his newspaper. The rich will pay him even more to keep it out of the paper.”

“They do?”

Elspeth nodded. “Where do you think he hears all that nonsense he writes about?”

“Do you gossip?”

“You gonna let me go if I do?”

Deanna thought about it. She would have to tell her mother. “What do you say about us?”

Elspeth smiled slyly. “Don’t you wish you knew?”

“Elspeth!”

“Oh, don’t be such a priss. I only tell enough to get by. Mainly about your mother and how she rules you girls with an iron
glove. I make fun of her, just a little bit, so’s I’m one of them. Just enough so people will share what
they
know. You can’t survive in service if you don’t tell the others a little something. They won’t take to you. And that makes life miserable. But don’t you worry none. I don’t tell anything too bad.” She laughed. “Actually, they all think I have a dull time of it and feel sorry for me. I’ve never had anything that the newspaper would pay for.”

Deanna just looked at Elspeth in bewilderment. She was Deanna’s best friend besides Cassie. Had she been wrong to trust her?

“Oh, Miss Deanna, get rid of that puss. You know I’m true blue to you.” She grinned. “And a poet.”

Deanna tried to smile, but her world had just shifted. Had her mother been right about her letting Elspeth take too many liberties? But she didn’t want some aloof companion who saved her from fashion faux pas, and even saw her naked, yet whom she couldn’t trust.

Elspeth turned serious. “I shouldn’t’ve told you all these things. But it’s the way of the world. Servants talk. So does the butcher and the dressmaker, and sometimes you folks tell on each other. But don’t you worry none, Miss Deanna. I would never betray you. You should know that by now.”

Deanna sighed with relief. “I believe you.”

“You should. We got each other’s backs, and that’s the way it oughta be.”

“That’s why I want you to sleep next door,” Deanna said, harking back to the conversation they were having before Madeline interrupted them.

“And I told you—”

“I know. But two maids tried to tell someone something. And both are dead.”

“Everyone’s scared downstairs. But you should be careful, too.”

“You think whoever it is will start murdering the cottagers?”

“I don’t know about that. But I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’d better watch out for that Lady Madeline. I don’t trust her not to try to take Mr. Joseph, too. Some women just can’t help themselves.”

“And some men can’t, either, as we’ve learned about Charles. Like father like son. And if Joe is one of those men, she can have him, too.”

“Oh pshaw. Mr. Joseph ain’t like that at all. Orrin sa—”

“Don’t.”

“Sorry, but Mr. Joseph is a good man and my brother says so.” Elspeth grinned at Deanna and ducked as the hairbrush whizzed by her head. She picked it up. “You gotta aim better than that.” She placed the brush back on the table.

Deanna fought a smile, lost the battle, and laughed. “You are so provoking.”

Elspeth laughed, too. “I’ll go get your nightdress. You pick out what we’re going to read tonight.”

Deanna knew what she wanted to read. She’d glanced through the coverless copy they’d found in Daisy’s room. But now that she had a copy with a cover on it, she would start at the beginning.