She sighed.
“I appreciate your offer, Harmony, but there’s really no need to fuss. I’m used to taking care of myself. I’ve never had a maid before.”
“You haven’t? But you’re a Bainbridge.”
“Actually, I’m a Fox. We’re the Bainbridges’ poor relations.” I attempted a laugh but it fell flat when Harmony gave me a blank look. I supposed her notion of poor and mine were quite different, and it wasn’t fair of me to call myself that when I was living in a luxury hotel where she worked.
“I just want to be of use,” she said before I could change the subject. “We don’t have many guests at the moment, and I find myself idle most evenings back at the residence hall. I like to do a little sewing or spot cleaning while we maids chat until bedtime. Some guests require my assistance of an evening, but most ladies bring their own maids. It’ll be busy closer to the ball, of course, but until then…” She shrugged and her darting gaze looked around the room again. Suddenly her face brightened. “I could fix your hair in the morning. Something a little more elaborate.”
I touched my hair. Elaborate had never really been something I could manage on my own, and my grandmother hadn’t been any help. She preferred old fashioned simple styles. Fortunately I rarely attended events that required complicated arrangements.
“Please say yes,” Harmony said. “I can come in after my early duties are accomplished and before I have to clean the rooms.”
“You work long hours.”
“I have two half days off a week, which is more than most maids at country manors. Well? Shall I do your hair each morning? Your cousin has hers done, and Lady Bainbridge too, when she leaves her room.”
“Very well. But only if you don’t have too much work to do. I don’t want to add to your burden.”
She smiled and picked up the ladder. “I’ll see you at eight tomorrow, Christmas morning. Goodnight, Miss Fox. I hope your first night in your new home won’t feel too strange.”
I smiled back. “Thank you, Harmony. I think I’m going to like it here.”
It was closer to eight-thirty when Harmony knocked on my door in the morning. She rushed in, a little out of breath, her dark eyes huge.
“I’m sorry for my lateness,” she said, a hand to her stomach.
“You look flustered. Is everything all right?”
She shook her head. “Something terrible has happened. Mrs. Warrick from room three-two-four died overnight.”
“How awful. What did she die of?”
“That’s the terrible thing. They’re saying she was murdered.”
Chapter 3
I directed Harmony to my sitting room but she refused to sit on the sofa. “I’m all right. Just a little shaken.”
I poured her a glass of water from the jug and handed it to her. She wrapped both hands around it and drank.
“Better?” I asked when she passed the glass back.
She rose and smoothed down her apron. “Thank you, Miss Fox. Now, come and take a seat at the dressing table, and let’s do something pretty with your hair. Lord! I almost forgot! Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, although there’s nothing merry about it now. That poor woman.”
Harmony still looked shaken, but her hands were steady enough as she brushed out my hair. Her gaze, however, seemed unfocused. “I don’t understand, though,” she said, as if we’d been in the middle of a conversation. “Why would one of the staff want to poison her?”
“Poisoned!”
“The police are questioning Danny, the footman who brought her hot chocolate last night.”
“They think he did it?”
“It seems so.”
“Does he have a motive?”
“Motive?” she echoed.
“A reason for killing Mrs. Warrick?”
She scooped my hair back with the brush, letting it cascade over her other hand. “She reported him after he spilled hot chocolate on her fur coat the night before last. He ruined it, so she said. She demanded the money to replace it be taken out of his wages.” She clicked her tongue. “It would take Danny a year to replace something so valuable. He was cross with her, and quite rightly so, but not enough to kill her.” She stopped brushing and her gaze connected with mine in the mirror. “I’m worried the police will think it is reason enough. Lord knows, men have hanged based on less evidence.”
“I’m sure the manager will vouch for Danny.”
She put down the brush and started parting my hair. “Mr. Hobart is a good man.”
“So the police are here now?”
She nodded. “They’ve inspected the room and taken the cup away for testing. They’re about to interview staff.”
“That’s promising. It means they’re keeping an open mind and don’t blame that particular footman.”
“True, but what if they come up with another suspect amongst the staff? No good will come of this for us,” she warned. “We’ll all be tainted now, from the lowliest scullery maid right up to your uncle. The bad publicity will cause all sorts of problems, particularly if the killer isn’t caught before the ball. Can you imagine if the ball is canceled? That’s our major event of the winter. If it’s canceled, the reservations will follow. It could be a disaster for the hotel.”
My uncle must be very worried. The newspapers would relish splashing details of the murder across their front pages.
Harmony placed some hair pins between her lips and spoke around them. “Sir Ronald will want the killer caught quickly to minimize scandal. I’m afraid the police won’t be thorough enough in their search for the killer, and will blame the easiest culprit.”
“Danny.” I handed her more pins as she used up the last between her lips. “Don’t worry about an elaborate arrangement this morning, Harmony. The sooner you’re done, the sooner I can find out what’s happening.”
It might not be my business, but I wanted to know more details. My uncle could railroad the police into rushing their investigation for the sake of the hotel’s reputation. And as Harmony feared, the person to suffer could very well be an innocent employee.
I found Floyd yawning in the corridor just outside his father’s office. Low voices could be heard on the other side of the door, but other than being male, I couldn’t determine who they belonged to.
“Merry Christmas,” Floyd said wryly. “By the look on your face, I suspect you’ve heard.”
“I did. How awful.”
“Father is beside himself with worry. He’s talking to the police now, but they’re refusing to make an arrest without more evidence.”
“I’m glad they’re being thorough.”
“Thorough?” He grunted. “I wish they’d just bloody get on with it. The sooner they arrest someone, the better. The hotel can’t afford for this to drag on.”
“Surely it’s only better if the right someone is arrested.”
He grunted again.
A door opened further along the corridor, and Flossy emerged, her hair down around her shoulders and a dressing gown thrown over her nightdress. “My maid just told me what happened,” she said as she rushed towards us. “Poor Mrs. Warrick. And on Christmas Day, too.”