Murder Has No Class (5 page)

“No, there’s more.” Felicity laid a hand briefly on her arm. “My brothers knew what was going on and never lifted a hand to help me. In fact, they treated it all as a joke, as if I were a toy to be played with and tossed aside.”

Horrified and shaken to the core, Meredith fought back tears. With all her heart she wished she’d listened to her instincts and never asked her friend about her past. Before she could speak, however, Felicity spoke again.

“You know I came to Bellehaven as a pupil years ago.”

“Yes, I remember. You mentioned it when I hired you.”

“I loved my time here as a student. It was the first time I felt safe, surrounded by females and not a male in sight. Well, except for the maintenance staff and I rarely saw them.”

“You were a good student by all accounts.”

Felicity’s smile was sad. “I devoured everything I was taught, but I loved literature and languages more than anything. The books allowed me to escape into another world, and the ability to speak in another language gave me a sense of power somehow. As if I could say what I wanted without fear of being punished for it.”

“And then you had to leave.”

“Yes.” Felicity’s face grew bitter once more. “When I returned to my home, there was someone waiting for me. My father had chosen who he considered to be a suitable husband for me.” She shuddered. “He was repulsive, Meredith. Older than my father, fat as a pig and he stank of sweat and cigars.”

“Oh, my dear. How utterly awful.”

“I simply refused to have anything to do with the man. My father told me if I didn’t marry the man he’d chosen for me, then I was to leave his house and never come back. He said I was a disgrace to the family and they wanted nothing more to do with me.”

Meredith gasped. “How dreadful. What about your mother? Couldn’t she intervene?”

Felicity made a sound of disgust. “She was terrified of my father. She stood by and never uttered a word. I swore from that day on that I would have nothing more to do with a man. Any man. I spent the next five years in service, and every miserable year of it strengthened my vow. I will never give a man power over me again.”

“Not all men are that evil.”

Felicity sighed. “They are all capable of evil. Look at your ghost. Obviously you sense evil surrounding him.”

“I sensed anger. It’s not the same thing.”

“Well, how fortunate was the day when I came back to visit my tutor and found you instead.”

“I often wondered why you had wasted so many years in service when you were so well educated and proficient. I just had a feeling that you had suffered some kind of tragedy, and that you deserved a chance to begin a new life.”

“And for that I shall adore you forever.” Felicity rose, and now her smile was brighter. “I shall never be able to repay you for giving me this opportunity, Meredith. I can honestly say that I have never been happier.”

“That’s all the reward I need.” Meredith got to her feet. “Besides, you have been a good friend. You’ve helped me deal with these wayward spirits, even though you don’t really believe in them.”

“Well, I should warn you, if this man continues to haunt you and you decide to help him, you may well have to do it alone this time.”

Meredith suppressed a shiver. “I hope he doesn’t return. I really don’t want to see him again.”

Felicity walked over to where the clock lay in pieces on the floor. Picking them up, she murmured, “Judging by the way you attacked him, I should think he would know better than to try again.”

“I hope so.” Meredith took the pieces of her broken clock from her and laid them on the dresser.

“Will you be all right?”

Felicity looked worried and Meredith smiled. “Yes, I think so. You can go back to bed.” She walked with her friend to the door. “Thank you for telling me about your past. I understand now why you feel the way you do. Nevertheless, I think it’s a shame. You have condemned so many good people who are completely without fault.”

“Dear Meredith. Always the optimist.” Felicity opened the door and added in a whisper, “Be careful, my friend. They are all painted with the same brush.” With that, she closed the door, leaving Meredith staring thoughtfully into space.

Chapter 4

“I don’t think you’re going to get enough girls to stage a protest.” Grace shoveled coal through the open oven door, then slammed it shut. “There’s only you, me, and three others. What kind of protest is that?”

“We’ll get more.” Olivia puffed out her breath as she carried a heavy cauldron of hot water to the sink. “We just have to talk to more girls, that’s all.”

“Some of them are afraid of getting into trouble.”

“Yeah, well those are the ones we don’t need.” Olivia poured the water into the sink, enveloping herself in a cloud of steam. Carrying the empty pot back to the stove she added, “What we need to do is talk to them when they’ve gone to their rooms at night. When none of the teachers are around to hear us.”

Grace wiped her hands on her apron, leaving a smudge of coal dust down the front. “You know we’re not allowed near the rooms at night.”

“We’re not supposed to be protesting either, but that doesn’t stop us.”

“What if we get caught? That will put an end to the protest, won’t it.”

“We won’t get caught.” Olivia wagged a finger at her. “Tonight. That’s when we’ll do it. We’ll go to the rooms tonight and ask the girls to join the protest.”

Grace caught her breath. “Tonight?”

“We’ve only got four days left. It has to be tonight.”

“Four days for what?”

Both girls swung around as someone spoke from the doorway.

The chubby woman who entered the kitchen stared at both girls with suspicion etched on her round face. “What are you two up to now?”

“N-nothing, Mrs. Wilkins,” Grace stammered, shooting a guilty look at Olivia.

Olivia merely shrugged. “Four days until our day off. We’re going down to the village to watch them dance around the maypole.”

Mrs. Wilkins frowned. “Did Miss Fingle say you could both have the day off together?”

Olivia sidled up to the cook and nudged her shoulder. “Not exactly. We thought you could put a word in for us. After all, it’s May Day. They’ve got a fete in the vicarage gardens and everything. It wouldn’t be fair if one of us could go and not the other, now would it.”

The cook glanced at Grace, who immediately dropped her gaze. “Well, I’m not promising nothing, mind you, but I’ll talk to Miss Fingle.”

Olivia flung her arms around Mrs. Wilkins’s shoulders. “I knew you would! I told, Grace, didn’t I. I said you were a lovely, kind lady who would want us to have a nice day off to see the dancers.”

Mrs. Wilkins shook her off. “Go on with you,” she said gruffly, but she smiled when she said it. “Now get on with the washing up. Those dishes have been sitting around for far too long.”

“Yes, Mrs. Wilkins.” Olivia grinned at Grace and turned back to the sink.

The cook crossed the floor to the pantry and disappeared inside.

Letting out her breath, Grace opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a tea towel. She joined Olivia at the sink and began drying a plate from the pile Olivia had stacked on the draining board. “What if Mona won’t let us go?” she whispered.

Olivia frowned at her. “We’ll go anyway. It’s Saturday, and Mona usually goes to visit her sister in Witcheston. We’ll be home again before she gets back. She’ll never know we’ve been gone.”

“Mrs. Wilkins will know.”

“Know what?”

Grace jumped as the cook spoke from behind her.

“You’ll know what’s the best time to go to the fete,” Olivia said, placing another wet dish on the pile.

“I hope you two are not planning to join up for another of those ridiculous protests,” Mrs. Wilkins said, sounding cross. “I should think you’ve had more than enough trouble with them as it is.”

Olivia opened her eyes wide. “What us? No fear. We’re not going anywhere near the WSPU, are we, Grace?”

Grace shook her head.

Seemingly satisfied, the cook moved back to the table and began chopping rhubarb sticks into small pieces.

Unnerved by the exchange, Grace picked up another wet plate and almost dropped it as it began to slide through her fingers. So far they had managed to avoid the awkward questions, but she had a nasty feeling that this whole protest thing was going to cause far more trouble than it was worth.

 

 

“How utterly dreadful!” Seated in the teacher’s lounge in her favorite spot near the fireplace, Essie stared at Meredith, her eyes wide with horror. “What a terrible ghost! I’m so glad you sent him packing.”

“I just hope he stays away.” Meredith shuddered. “I really don’t think I could endure much more of his antagonism. Whoever killed that man surely had good cause.”

“Which would put you in an awkward spot,” Felicity observed from behind the weekly newspaper. “After all, you helped the other ghosts in order to see justice served, am I right?”

“Quite right. Usually, if a ghost has some unresolved issues, it cannot cross over to the other side. I just tried to resolve the issues for them.” Meredith reached for her knitting. The steady clack of needles always seemed to soothe her, and her nerves needed steadying.

She’d had trouble concentrating on her morning classes. Her students, sensing her digression, had become restless and inattentive, making it a difficult morning. She needed to pull herself together before the afternoon sessions.

“Well, then,” Felicity said, opening the newspaper to the center pages, “if your ghost had been disposed of with just cause, then you would have a problem. His issues would likely be unsavory ones.”

Meredith hooked her strand of wool between her fingers and began knitting a row of purl stitches. “Possibly. In any case, I have no intention whatsoever of helping someone with such an ill temper.”

Essie clapped her hands. “I’m very glad to hear it.”

Deciding it was time to change the subject, Meredith glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Has anyone seen Sylvia this morning? She is usually in here by now.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, don’t wish her upon us.” Felicity rattled the newspaper. “She is such a ninny. It’s impossible to have an intelligent conversation when she’s here.”

As if to answer her, the door swung open. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” Sylvia Montrose entered the room. “I was waylaid by a student with a rather pressing problem.”

Essie smiled at the newcomer, while Felicity merely grunted and hid her face behind the newspaper.

“It’s quite all right, Sylvia.” Meredith moved over on the settee to give the instructress room to sit. “We didn’t have any important items to discuss, so you missed nothing.”

“Well, we might have one,” Felicity said, lowering the newspaper. “Apparently there is a national dart match being held at the Dog and Duck on Saturday.”

“Oh, yes.” Meredith suffered a guilty start. “I meant to mention it to you all. Mr. Hamilton told me about it yesterday. I’m afraid it slipped my mind.”

Felicity gave her a knowing look. “Hamilton was here?”

“Yes.” Meredith shifted uneasily on her seat, praying that Felicity wouldn’t utter one of her meaningful remarks. Her friend delighted in teasing Meredith about her relationship with the Bellehaven’s owner, in spite of her assertions that her association with the man was purely professional.

Fortunately, this time Felicity refrained from commenting on the topic. “Well,” she said, holding up the newspaper, “according to this, the village will be inundated with young louts from London, all looking for fun, frolic, and mischief, no doubt.”

Sylvia arranged herself on the couch. She wore a green silk waist that complemented the red tints in her blond hair, and her face looked as smooth and flawless as the pages of a brand- new sketch pad. “Oh, dear,” she murmured. “That could cause a problem for our girls. Most of them go into the village on Saturdays.”

“It’s May Day, as well,” Essie put in. “I’m sure our students will want to see the maypole dancing and visit the fete.”

Felicity frowned at Meredith. “What shall we do about this?”

“I hadn’t really thought.” Meredith forced her mind off Stuart Hamilton and focused on the problem at hand. “I suppose, under the circumstances, we should establish a curfew.”

Felicity frowned. “I think it would be prudent to place the entire village off limits for the day.”

Essie uttered a cry of dismay. “The students won’t like that, Felicity. They were looking forward to celebrating May Day with the villagers.”

“I do think that is a little drastic, Felicity.” Meredith turned to Sylvia, more out of courtesy than because she valued her opinion. “What do you think, Sylvia?”

Sylvia pinched her lips. It was obvious from her expression that she agreed with Felicity’s suggestion, but was reluctant to acknowledge it. “What did Mr. Hamilton suggest?”