Hush Now, Don’t You Cry (8 page)

And without waiting any longer I took my leave.

Nine

As I approached our cottage a procession was coming down the drive—a cart piled high with boxes, valises, and baskets—followed by an open carriage full of male and female servants. An automobile was sitting outside the front door. It appeared that the family had arrived in force.

Daniel had been sitting in the bay window and jumped up as I opened the front door.

“Where have you been? You’ve been gone for hours. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d be sleeping. I was on the seashore and then I met some family members and joined in a search for two little boys, whom I found hiding in a tree.”

“Such adventures,” Daniel said. “I’m sorry I missed them. So these boys—they were the alderman’s grandsons?”

“They were. Thomas and Alex. Nice little chaps from what I could see. Their mama was most distressed.”

“Well, she would be, wouldn’t she? If she’d already lost one child over that cliff. So did you meet the alderman too?”

“No, thank heavens. I wouldn’t have made too good a first impression with my skirt in this state, would I?”

“You’re soaked. What have you been doing to yourself?” he demanded.

“Only got a little wet while I was wading in the ocean. Nothing serious,” I said. “So stop scowling like that. I’d better get to work right away sponging out the salt water or it will leave a mark.”

Daniel shook his head. “Who else’s new bride would spend her first day on a great estate getting herself half drowned in the ocean?”

“It was nothing like half drowned. I was looking into a tide pool and I was caught unawares by a particularly big wave.” In his current state of agitation I thought it wiser not to let him know that I had allowed myself to be cut off by the tide.

“Now that you’re back, I’d like some hot tea,” he said. “And could we maybe light a fire? This place is cold and damp. I’m shivering.”

“It doesn’t feel that cold to me,” I said, going over to feel his forehead. He actually felt quite warm to my touch. “But I’ll light a fire if you like. There is a log basket all ready and we’ll have a nice cozy evening.”

Half an hour later we were sitting by a crackling blaze with hot tea and toast. I looked across at Daniel and the thought struck me—this is what I have to look forward to—cozy afternoons doing nothing in particular, just enjoying each other’s company. It was a pleasant prospect.

“So I told you that I met some of the family, Daniel,” I began brightly, because I wanted to cheer him up.

“Did you?” he asked without great enthusiasm.

“I did. The alderman’s daughter, Irene—very lovely and dressed in the height of fashion, and her equally suave and dashing and upper-crust husband, Archie. I also met their cousins Terrence and Eliza, who are Joseph’s children. Terrence is a likable rogue, I suspect. Typical Irish gift of the gab with an aversion to work, and his sister is quite the opposite—looks like a Salvation Army lass and does good works. So does their mother, I understand, which might explain why she’s not here.”

“And why Joseph brings a younger diversion with him.” Daniel chuckled. The chuckle turned to a hacking cough. I looked at him with concern.

“That cough sounds terrible. You really have caught a bad chill.”

“And I always pride myself on my strong constitution.” He put his handkerchief up to his mouth as he coughed again.

I got up. “I’ll go up to the big house and see if they have a chicken or stewing beef,” I said. “You need a good strong broth,” I said.

“Don’t bother. I’m sure I’ll be right as rain in a day or so,” Daniel said. “It’s just a question of letting these things work their way through the system.”

“Nonsense. I want you back to your normal self as quickly as possible,” I said. “I’m missing out on my honeymoon. It’s no fun without my husband to share it with me.”

“It’s almost dark. Go carefully then,” he called after me.

The temperature had dropped with the sunset and I grabbed a shawl for my shoulders before I set out across the lawns. Lights were now twinkling from the big house, making it no longer so intimidating. Nevertheless, I had no wish to encounter the alderman or any of the family members again without Daniel present so I veered around the side of the house, looking for a servants’ entrance. As I made my way past the fountain, I heard the click of a lock and turned to see someone coming out of one of the French windows that ran along that side of the house. In the half darkness all I saw was a tall slim shadow of a man. He hesitated, looked around, then strode purposefully away from the house and into the darkness.
Terrence slipping out for a drink before dinner at a local watering hole,
I thought.

Eventually I came upon a back door, opened it, and entered to find myself in a dark, narrow passageway. Good cooking smells led me to a door on my left and I found myself in the kitchen where we had taken tea. The room was empty but pots were bubbling away on a stove.

“Hello!” I called. “Anyone there?”

Nobody appeared. I looked around for a larder. There was no pantry door inside the kitchen so I went back out to the passage again and started opening doors. The first was a broom closet. The second was locked, the third was a servants’ dining room, unused and in darkness. I encountered nobody as I poked around. Where had they all disappeared to? I found myself glancing nervously over my shoulder as I worked my way down the hall. A fourth door was recessed into the wall. I opened it and gave a little scream as I encountered a face literally a few inches from mine. I stepped back with a gasp of horror as the apparition said in an angry voice, “Mrs. Sullivan. Whatever were you doing?” And Mrs. McCreedy stepped into the hallway. She was breathing heavily and her hand was on her large bosom as if she too was recovering from a shock.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was looking for the larder.”

“The larder?” she was eyeing me suspiciously. “Was the icebox over at the guest cottage not well stocked then? I thought I made sure you’d have all you needed.” She was still gasping as if she had run a race.

“Yes, thank you. The food is wonderful,” I said. “It’s just that my husband has come down with a bad chill and I thought some kind of broth might be just what he needed. So I came over to see if you had a chicken maybe or some stewing beef or even some bones.”

“Bones?” She was staring at me impassively.

“To make a broth. I believe we already have onions and carrots at the cottage.”

“I’ll see what I can do for you,” she said coldly.

“Do you do the cooking when the family is here?” I asked, trying to melt the icy freeze that seemed to have developed between us. “There are some wonderful smells coming from that oven.”

“I’m cooking the meal tonight but I expect the alderman will be bringing his own cook from the city. He has a French chef, from Paris, you know. Very particular about his food, he is.” She walked ahead of me back into the kitchen and then opened another door behind a curtain. This one led to a scullery containing an enormous icebox. “I’ve chickens here but they are for tomorrow night’s dinner,” she said. “I suppose I might spare you one.”

“I’d appreciate it if you could. I’ll go into town and buy one tomorrow to replace it,” I said.

“Well, all right. They are only little poussins and I expect I have enough here for one each for the meal, if more family members don’t turn up out of the blue.” She reached in and lifted out a pathetic-looking little body. It hung limply in her hand, the head still attached and drooping to one side. Then she opened a drawer with the other hand and brought out a piece of greaseproof paper.

“I hope your husband feels better,” she said, wrapping it deftly and then tying it with a piece of string.

“I won’t trouble you any longer. I can see you’re busy.” I started toward the back door again.

“Mrs. Sullivan,” she called after me.

I turned back.

“What are you really doing here?” she asked. “Did somebody send you?”

“What are you talking about? I told you that the alderman made the invitation to my husband.”

“I see,” she said. “It’s just that, well, yesterday I caught you snooping around the house on your own and now again today. And I certainly don’t expect to find guests of the master poking around in the servants’ quarters.”

“We have no servant to send over for me. I came to the back door because I didn’t want to encounter family members before we were formally introduced,” I replied. “I called from the doorway, but nobody came. So I thought I’d try to locate the larder.”

“And help yourself to our food? What if you had taken a chicken and I was then one short?”

“I would never have taken anything without permission, and I don’t take kindly to your insinuations,” I said hotly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to my husband. I’m concerned about him and about the fever he caught because there was nobody around to let us in when we arrived, even though we were expected.”

With that I stalked out, in high dudgeon. The woman had practically accused me of coming here to steal things, hadn’t she? I was almost tempted to throw her chicken back at her and tell her we’d do without, but my concern for Daniel outweighed my pride.

I was just turning onto the path to the guest cottage when I heard a voice calling, “Hey miss. Over here.” I could make out the figure of a man peering in through the bars of the gate.

I went up to him. “Oh, dear, have they locked the gates again? We were shut out the other day. Let me see if I can find the way to let you in.”

“I don’t want to come in,” he said. “Not right now in any case. I just wanted to make sure—this is the house of Brian Hannan, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

“And Mr. Hannan is in residence?”

“I gather he hasn’t arrived yet,” I said.

“That’s funny. Are you sure?”

“I don’t know, actually. We’re not staying at the big house.”

“I’d swear I saw him at the station in New York. Very well, then. I’ll be back. Thank you.” He let go of the bars of the gate he had been holding.

“You’re not another family member, are you? Because a lot of them have already arrived.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. Far from it.” He was starting to move away. “I’d better go then.”

“Would you like me to tell the family that you called, Mr.—?” I shouted after him.

“No, thank you. Let’s keep it a surprise, shall we?”

With that he melted away into the darkness, leaving me to pick my way home to the cottage.

Ten

I did not sleep well that night. Daniel tossed and turned with a hacking cough. Having just become accustomed to the advantages of sleeping in the same bed as my husband, I was now finding out the disadvantages. I got up to fetch him water and make him hot tea and in the end I chose to curl up on the sofa with a rug over me. I had just drifted off to sleep as the birds were twittering with the dawn when there was a thunderous knocking at the front door.

I got up, reached blindly for my robe, and went to the front door, first pausing to make sure the robe was tied decently. Really this nightly interruption was becoming less of a joke each time it happened. I opened the door to see a policeman standing there.

“Good morning, ma’am.” He touched his helmet to me. “I am sorry to bother you so early, but I’m afraid I have to ask you to get dressed and come over to the big house as soon as possible. My chief would like to talk to you.”

“About what? Is it my husband you’re wanting?” I pulled my robe closer around me, conscious of his interested stare.

“No, both of you, and I couldn’t tell you what about. Just that it’s urgent and you are requested to come straightaway.”

“Very well. We’ll come as soon as we’re dressed,” I said shortly.

I went upstairs to rouse Daniel. He looked decidedly the worse for wear—hollow eyed and still flushed with fever.

“What the devil do they want now?” he growled. “Are we not to get a minute’s peace in this place? I rather wish I had not accepted the invitation. A stay on Coney Island next to the new Luna Park would have been quieter than this.”

“Maybe you should stay in bed. The early morning air will not help your condition. I can go in your stead and give your excuses.”

“No, that wouldn’t do at all,” he said. “I’ll be all right. I just hope for their sakes that the matter warrants dragging us out of bed like this.”

He sat on the bed, breathing heavily, as he dressed. His breathing sounded ragged. I went off to dress myself, noting gratefully that I had succeeded in eliminating the saltwater stains from the skirt of my dress. As I put up my hair I tried to think what a policeman could want with us at this hour. Surely Mrs. McCreedy had not reported me for trying to steal a chicken? And if she had, the alderman would certainly have arrived by now and would have vouched for us. A chilling thought crossed my mind—those little boys, mischievous and lacking control—surely something hadn’t happened to them?

I followed Daniel down the stairs and out across the dewy lawn. I took his arm, feeling that he might need me to steady him as much as I needed his support. Toadstools had appeared overnight in the damp grass and there was a decidedly autumnal chill in the air. Seagulls wheeled overhead mewing. The policeman who had summoned us was standing at the front door of the castle and ushered us inside, across that cavernous main foyer, down a gloomy hallway until he paused outside a door at the far end. He knocked and pushed the door open for us to go in. We stepped into one of the lavishly formal drawing rooms on the north side of the house. It was decidedly chilly at this early hour with no fire lit in the grate.

I started with surprise as we entered because the room was full of people. The entire Hannan family appeared to be assembled in various stages of undress. Pajamas were visible under silk dressing gowns. Irene was in a feather-trimmed negligee, but her hair fell over her shoulders and clearly had not been brushed. They were posed, unmoving, almost like a tableau in the popular party games—their unkempt appearance and motley attire in sharp contrast to the fine furnishings and decorations of the room.