“Quite so, and I’m happy you were able to join us.” Cecily waved a hand at the door. “Please, go in and make yourselves comfortable.”
The couple glided into the room, and Cecily turned to her husband. She was about to make a comment about Sir Walter’s sickly appearance, but just then the Millshires arrived, minus their children, much to Cecily’s relief. From all accounts, the Millshires’ offspring could be quite disruptive.
She had no time to dwell on her thoughts after that. The rest of the guests arrived in groups, and by the time everyone was settled the schoolgirls were about to start singing the first carol.
As the clear voices rose to the high ceiling, the beautiful chords of “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” accompanied them, filling the room with the lyrical music.
Cecily wished that Madeline had been there to hear it. She loved Christmas carols. She had decided not to come to the ceremony after all. Apart from the fact that Angelina had tasted more than her share of adventure that day, the trauma had taken a toll on Madeline, and all she’d wanted to do was take her baby home and watch over her.
It was a shame, really. The carols were such an important part of the season. The story of the birth of Christ, and the meaning of the true spirit of Christmas. As Sir Walter had said, it wouldn’t be Christmas without carols.
Something clicked in her mind, and she frowned. There it was again. That odd sensation. Something Sir Walter had said… She caught her breath. Surely not. She struggled with her thoughts for several minutes, while the singing rose and fell all around her. Of course. Now it all made sense. All she had to do was find the proof.
The platform was deserted when Gertie arrived at the train station. Although the wind had turned even colder, and flakes of snow drifted sideways across the tracks, Gertie was warm with excitement.
She’d intended to have one of the footmen fetch the twins in a carriage, but Dan had insisted on driving her to the station. The twins would be thrilled to have a ride in the motorcar. She hugged herself as she gazed along the empty tracks into the darkness. She couldn’t wait to see them.
“It should be here any minute,” Dan said, glancing up at the large clock swinging above his head.
As if to confirm his comment, the station master appeared, a large oil lamp swinging in his hand. He walked to the end of the platform and put the lamp down at his feet.
In the distance Gertie heard a faint whistle. Grabbing Dan’s sleeve, she gave it a tug. “They’re coming!”
Dan laughed, and put an arm around her. “All this excitement just to see the twins come home! Just wait until we all move up to London. You’ll be so excited then you’ll forget how to talk.”
A sharp stab of cold shot through Gertie’s stomach. How could she have forgotten what it would mean to marry this man?
She would have to leave Badgers End again, and everyone she knew and loved at the Pennyfoot.
She couldn’t seem to breathe, and her vision blurred, so that the oncoming train seemed to fade into the cloud of steam. She could hear the clatter of the wheels now, and the whistle, much louder, shattering in her ears. Not now, she told herself, pushing away the fear. Don’t think about it now. Just enjoy the twins’ homecoming. Worry about it all later.
The engine roared into the station, then screeched and rattled to a stop. Steam hissed from the chimney, and Gertie wrinkled her nose as the musty coal fumes filled her lungs.
Only three of the train’s doors opened, spilling out its passengers. At the far end of the train, Gertie saw two small figures jumping down the steps and onto the platform. “There they are!” Without waiting for Dan, she flew toward the twins, arms outstretched.
Lillian was the first to see her. Her scream echoed all the way down the platform. She rushed forward, followed closely by James, while Daisy, dragging a large portmanteau behind her, brought up the rear.
Gertie stooped to hug the twins, who smothered her with kisses. By the time she had untangled herself from their arms, Dan had taken the bag from Daisy and was walking her back to the motorcar.
James talked nonstop, his tongue tripping over the words in his excitement. Lillian tried to get a word in now and then, but with all the jumping up and down she was doing she had no breath to compete with her brother.
Basking in the warmth of their affection, Gertie forgot all about her troubles with Dan. It was Christmas Eve, and her twins were home. That was all that mattered for now.
Cecily found it hard to concentrate on the carol singers. She had one eye on the clock, wondering how soon she could leave without attracting attention. The schoolgirls came to the end of their rendition, and polite applause followed. Phoebe signaled the quartet and they began to play “We Three Kings.”
Some of the guests got up to stand around the Christmas tree, while others moved closer to the piano. Voices began singing a hesitant chorus of the carol, somewhat out of tune and unusually sedate.
No doubt the news of the recent murders had dampened their spirits. She would have to think of something to lighten the mood.
This was the one night of the year when the staff was invited to join the guests in the singing, though few of them took advantage of the offer.
Cecily noticed Clive standing over by the window, and Mrs. Chubb next to him. Neither Pansy nor Gertie were visible, much to Cecily’s surprise. Gertie always enjoyed the ceremony, and she was supposed to bring the twins. Cecily was really looking forward to seeing her godchildren, and although Baxter would be the last one to admit it, she knew he was anxious to see them as well.
Deciding that perhaps the train was late, Cecily looked around for her husband. Baxter was standing near the door, talking to one of the guests. She was rather hoping to slip away for a few minutes and return before he noticed her absence.
“Cecily! Why aren’t you singing?”
Startled, Cecily turned to find Phoebe staring at her with an offended look on her face. “I was singing,” she said, steering Phoebe away from a couple of guests. “I simply forgot the words, that’s all. I’m afraid this isn’t one of my favorite carols.”
“Well then, what is your favorite carol? I’ll have the musicians play it for you.”
Cecily shook her head. “Really, Phoebe, there’s no need. Actually I like all the carols. I just know some better than others. I will sing the next one, I promise.”
Looking only slightly appeased, Phoebe cast a stern glance around the room. “Really, I don’t know what’s the matter with these people tonight. No one seems to want to sing. By the way, where are Madeline and the good doctor? I thought they were coming tonight.”
“Madeline decided to take little Angelina home. The poor little thing has had quite enough excitement for one day.”
Phoebe nodded, sending wisps of ostrich feathers floating to the floor. “She has, indeed. Dreadful children to do such a thing.” She glared in the direction of the Millshires, who were singing with obvious reluctance. “They are little savages, those two. I had to chase them out of here this afternoon. They were trying to crawl under the branches of the Christmas tree. Can you imagine? All those glass balls rattling back and forth. I was quite sure they would all be broken.” She fanned her face with her gloved hand. “Thank goodness they didn’t bring the little monsters-”
She broke off with a gasp of horror. “Goodness, there’s Frederick. I told him to stay in the bar. Once he starts drinking he thinks he’s the world’s greatest tenor. I’d better get over there before he starts tormenting everyone’s eardrums.” She darted off toward the door, where the colonel was apparently regaling his captive audience with his war stories.