Kate Kingsbury - Herald Of Death

Pansy turned away with a grunt of disappointment. “Oh, well, it’s probably not him anyway.”

Gertie had stopped paying attention. She had just seen Clive pass by the dining room doors. “I’ve got to go,” she said abruptly, causing Pansy to spin back again. “There’s something I’ve got to do.” Leaving the tray of dishes on the table, she dashed out of the room and into the corridor.

Clive had disappeared, and she raced for the stairs. She reached the top just in time to see the front door close behind him.

Heedless of the cold wind, she dived through the door and down the steps, calling out, “Clive! Wait!”

Clive had reached the corner of the building. He stopped and looked back, the wind whipping his dark hair back from his face.

He seemed uneasy as she drew nearer, looking around as if worried somebody might see them together. “Is something wrong?”

She almost laughed. Everything was wrong. If she said the wrong words now, she could break up a friendship that meant more to her than she’d realized. Now that she was in danger of losing him, she wanted to hang on to him with both hands and never let go. “I want to talk to you.”

He searched her face, then nodded. “Come around here, out of the cold.”

She followed him through the gate into the courtyard, where they were sheltered by the kitchen wall. She noticed that he stood between her and the beach, protecting her even more from the brisk ocean wind. That was Clive, always protecting her. Always making her feel safe.

She smiled at him. “I was scared last night.”

“I know you were.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

A frown flicked across his face. “Gertie, it’s all right. You don’t have to explain. I understand.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t.” She paused, struggling for the right words. “I like you, Clive. Really I do. You’ve been a wonderful friend to me and the twins and we all think the world of you.”

He started to speak and she held up her hand. “No, wait. If I don’t get this out now I’ll never bloody say it at all.”

His mouth twitched in a smile, then he looked serious again. “All right.”

“It’s like this.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I don’t have much luck with blokes. First there was Ian, and, well, you know about him. He was the father of my twins, and never bothered to tell me he was married to someone else. Then there was Ross McBride. He was a lot older than me but he was good to me and my children. When he died I thought that was the end of it for me. But then I met Dan.”

Her voice had wobbled. Cross with herself, she paused to get it under control again.

“Gertie, you don’t have to do this-”

“Yes, I do. Let me finish.” She struggled on. “I really, really loved Dan, even though I knew he wasn’t the right one for me. I kept hoping we-” She took another deep breath. “Anyway, what I’m saying is that after all that hurting, I don’t think I can ever do it again.”

“Gertie-”

Again she held up her hand. “But if things had been different, if I could have felt that way again, it would have been with you.”

Her fingers were clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She didn’t know if she’d said it right, or if he’d ever understand what she’d meant. She watched his face, and for a moment felt panic at his grave expression.

Then he smiled. “Gertie, I have never met a woman like you. You have a heart as big as the sky, and I know that one day-maybe not soon, but one day-you’ll be able to trust it to someone again. I want to be around when that happens, just in case you decide to give it to me. So I’ll wait. For as long as it takes. Until then, I hope we can still remain friends.”

She never cried. So that moisture in her eyes had to be caused by the wind. “You’re the best friend anyone could ask for, and my twins would kill me if I didn’t stay friends with you.”

He laughed, that deep rich sound that always made her feel warm inside. “Then we can’t disappoint the twins, can we. By the way, I’ve finished the rocking horse I made for their Christmas present. Come and see it and tell me what you think.”

She grinned at him. “I’d love to, but it’ll have to be later. I’ve left dirty dishes on the table and Chubby will have my guts for flipping garters if I don’t get back there.”

“Later, then.” He lifted his hand at her, then strode off around the corner.

She kept the grin on her face all the way back to the dining room.

People packed the High Street as Samuel guided the chestnut to a stop a few yards from Willow’s shoe shop. “I want you to stay here and wait for me,” Cecily told him as he helped her alight from the carriage.

“I’m not going to let you go in there by yourself.” Samuel took her arm in a firm hold. “I’m here to protect you, and I can’t do that sitting out here on the street.”

“Nonsense, Samuel.” Cecily gently pried his fingers from her arm. “Nothing is going to happen to me in a shop full of customers.”

“If this bloke is as evil as you say, anything could happen to you.”

“Piffle. I will be quite all right. Just wait here for me. I find that people are more forthcoming when alone with someone. If I’m to trick Mr. Salt into incriminating himself I need his full confidence.”

Samuel still looked defiant. “If he’s that clever, he’s not going to say anything that will give him away.”

Cecily smiled. “Quite the contrary, Samuel. People such as Lester Salt are full of their own importance. Sooner or later he will say something that will give me the answers I need.”

“Well, if you say so, m’m. I don’t have to like it, though.”

She patted his shoulder. “I shan’t be long.”

Fighting down her own doubts, she hurried into the shop, where one of Lester’s assistants bounded forward to greet her. Before she could make her request, however, the abrasive voice of Lester Salt silenced her.

“Mrs. Baxter! How good to see you. How can we help you today?”

He stood in front of the curtain that led to the parlor, impeccably dressed as always, though a persistent lock of hair hung over his forehead, and his mustache looked somewhat bedraggled.

“I’m here to purchase slippers for my husband.” Cecily looked around at the shelves. “I’d also like a pair for my stable manager.”

Lester rubbed his hands together. He seemed in a particularly good mood as he marched forward. “Yes, yes, of course. No need to stand about here, however. Come back into my parlor and I’ll show you our incredible selection of slippers. I’m sure we can find exactly what you want.”

Now that the moment was at hand, the last thing Cecily wanted was to be alone in the parlor with this man. There didn’t seem to be any other way, however, to have the conversation she needed to have with him.

Swallowing her fear, she managed a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Baxter.” He turned to the hovering assistant. “Nathan! Fetch the lady all the slippers you can find and bring them to the parlor.” With that, he grasped Cecily’s arm with firm fingers and propelled her through the curtain and down the hallway to the parlor.

“Can I offer you some tea?” he asked, as she reluctantly seated herself by the fire.

“Thank you, no.” She glanced at the clock over the fireplace. “I have another appointment shortly so I really can’t linger too long.”

“Ah, I understand.” He took the chair opposite her and sat down, leaning forward to ask, “I suppose the Pennyfoot will be filled with guests for Christmas?”

“Yes, indeed. We usually have a full house for the season.” She glanced at the table next to her. The book was still there and she picked it up. “ Tales of a Mystic ! I don’t think I’ve heard of this. Is it a good book?”