Madeline smiled. “I always know what he’s thinking. Right now he’s very happy to escape a room that contains three ladies, all of whom are quite capable of taking him down a peg or two.”
Cecily laughed. “You may be right. As long as we have this time for ourselves, let’s discuss the pantomime.” Hoping to take Phoebe’s mind off the missing colonel, she turned to her. “How are things with your presentation, Phoebe?”
Phoebe drew a shuddering breath. “As well as can be expected. Doris is an absolute gem, of course. We are so lucky to have her in the pantomime. She is wonderful as Wendy, and the children adore her. She has a way with them, you know.”
Cecily nodded. “Yes, I can imagine that. How are my godchildren doing? Are they enjoying their first experience as performers?”
Phoebe actually smiled. “They are wonderful, Cecily. Wait until you see them! James is quite masterful onstage, and little Lillian follows directions beautifully. In fact, all the children are doing extremely well.”
Cecily hesitated, then decided she might as well break the news. “Speaking of the children, I don’t know if you heard Gertie mention that James has broken his arm?”
Phoebe uttered a cry of dismay. “Oh, no! Does that mean he won’t be in the pantomime?”
Madeline uttered a scornful laugh. “Dear Phoebe, always putting her own concerns in front of everything else.”
Phoebe scowled. “What exactly does that mean?”
Madeline shrugged. “You could have asked how the child was feeling.”
Phoebe looked offended. “I was coming to that.” She turned back to Cecily. “I do hope he is feeling well enough to participate in the pantomime.”
Madeline rolled her eyes but mercifully said nothing.
“I think that will be up to Gertie to decide,” Cecily said.
Phoebe sighed. “It’s always something. If we have to do without him, then so be it. We’ll manage. I really think this will be the very best event I have ever produced.”
“That shouldn’t be so hard to do,” Madeline murmured.
Cecily spoke quickly, before Phoebe had time to realize the sting in that remark. “Splendid! I am really looking forward to seeing the production. I understand Clive put up the wiring for you.”
“Yes, he did. He really is a remarkable man. He built the most amazing pirate ship and it’s on wheels and actually moves.” Phoebe shook her head. “I don’t know how he does it. I-” She broke off, her eyes wide as she stared at Madeline’s face.
Cecily followed her gaze, and caught her breath. Madeline was in one of her trances, her eyes glazed and staring, her body stiff and motionless.
Phoebe hunched closer to the fire. “I wish she wouldn’t do that,” she whispered. “It’s so unsettling.”
Cecily hushed her with a finger over her lips.
Madeline sat like a stone. Her lips moved, though no sound emerged.
Phoebe gulped and drew back on her chair.
The silence in the room was almost painful. Cecily waited, heart pounding, for what seemed like minutes until Madeline stirred.
She opened her eyes and looked straight at Phoebe. Her next words sent a cold chill through Cecily’s bones.
“They have found the colonel.”
CHAPTER 14
“He’s not dead, is he? Oh, please tell me he’s not dead!” Phoebe leaned forward, one hand pressed to her throat. “I can’t bear to think of it.”
Madeline blinked. “I’m sorry, Phoebe, truly. I just don’t know.”
Phoebe sank back, her handkerchief pressed to her mouth. “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?”
“Now, now.” Cecily reached out to pat her arm. “I’m sure the colonel is perfectly fine.” She looked at Madeline, willing her to give them some good news.
Madeline hesitated, then said firmly, “Phoebe, I can tell you that Kevin and Clive are with your husband, and I saw nothing to indicate that he is dead.”
Phoebe shuddered. “Just hearing those words makes me ill. How long do you think it will be before the doctor and Clive return?”
Madeline glanced at the mantelpiece, where an ornate clock sat steadily ticking the seconds away. “Not long, I promise you.” Again she paused, then added quickly, “The colonel might not be with them. They might have taken him home first before coming back for you.”
“In which case,” Cecily put in, “Samuel will take you home immediately.”
“We can take Phoebe home,” Madeline said, getting up from her chair. She walked over to the window and drew back the heavy velvet curtain to peer outside. “They should be back soon.”
“Oh, poor Frederick.” Phoebe started rocking again. “He will be so cold and wet. I hope he doesn’t get pneumonia or something awful like that.”
The thought crossed Cecily’s mind that being able to catch pneumonia was better than the alternative. All she could do was pray they’d found the colonel alive and that he hadn’t fallen prey to the murderous Christmas Angel.
In spite of Madeline’s prediction, it was a long, agonizing wait, during which Phoebe fluctuated between bouts of deep depression, when she was certain her life with the colonel was over, to moments of hope and optimism, where she intended to scold him for straying so far.
At long last, they heard the welcome tap on the door. Madeline’s face was inscrutable as Cecily got up from her chair. “Come in!” she called out and reached for Phoebe’s hand.
The door opened and Dr. Prestwick strode in, his face a grim mask. He carried his hat in his hand, and it dripped water all across the carpet as he walked toward the fire.
Cecily ignored him, her gaze pinned on the door. For a dreadful moment she thought the colonel wasn’t with him, but then a familiar voice bellowed from the other side of the door.
“I say, old chap, unhand me at once. I’m not a blasted invalid!”
Phoebe let out a cry of pure joy and raced across the room to the door, just as a disheveled colonel stepped through it. “Freddie! Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
Cecily hurried over to him and saw Clive standing in the hallway outside, twisting his cap in his hands. “Thank you, Clive.” She smiled at him. “Would you please go down to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Chubb to send up a bottle of brandy and glasses.”
“Yes, m’m.” He touched his forehead, grinned at her, and ambled off down the hallway.
“I say, that sounds like a jolly good idea!” Colonel Fortescue disengaged himself from his wife’s suffocating hug. “I could use a brandy, old bean.”
“It’s on its way, Colonel.” She looked at Kevin, who stood with his back to the fire, hands clasped behind him. “I imagine you would like some, too.”
“Thank you, Cecily, but we must leave.” He reached out a hand to Madeline, who, after a moment’s hesitation, took it and rose to her feet. “We have a baby waiting for us at home.”
“Yes, thank you, Cecily.” Madeline walked to the door, followed closely by her husband. “I shall return tomorrow to finish the decorating.”
Troubled by her friend’s somber expression, Cecily closed the door behind them and returned to the fire. Phoebe had sat down again, while the colonel had taken up residence with his back to the smoldering coals. Mud stained his heavy coat, his beard was matted with pine needles, and a deep scratch adorned his nose. Otherwise he seemed in good health.
Having apparently assured herself that her husband wasn’t seriously hurt, Phoebe demanded, “What on earth were you doing in those woods? Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving the Pennyfoot? You know very well you don’t go anywhere without me.”
The colonel raised his chin. “I was going to buy you a Christmas present.”
“In the woods?”
“No, of course not.” A puzzled look crossed his face, as if he was trying to remember. “I… er… got waylaid.”
Phoebe sounded exasperated. “Waylaid?”