A Gilded Grave (3 page)

Nathaniel grabbed Cokey’s shoulder and pulled him away. “Sorry, Ballard. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“S’what happens when men start fraternizing with the ‘footies,’ meeting the help on dark street corners. Think he’ll take her up against the wall?”

“Shut up, Cokey,” Nathaniel said.

“No, no. If Joe here doesn’t treat you right, just tell Cokey. I’ll show you a good time.”

They staggered off.

Joe turned back to Daisy. “Sorry about them. A couple of drunks with no manners and half a brain between them. And you stay away from both of them.”

Daisy stepped away from the wall. “I know the likes of them. But they should’na talked to you like that, Mr. Ballard.”

“They shouldn’t have talked about either of us that way,
Daisy. Pay them no mind. Now go back inside. And don’t walk out by yourself again. I’ll send Orrin down in the morning.”

“Mr. Ballard . . . ?” She bit her lip. “No. I’d best be getting back, I have to lay the fire for Mr. Woodruff’s room. He’s not well, Mr. Ballard. Nothing’s going right in that house.”

Joe studied the girl’s worried countenance. “I noticed he was looking pale tonight, but what else is wrong?”

“Yes, sir, he—he . . .” Daisy shook her head. “I can’t.” She dropped an abrupt curtsey. “G’night, sir.”

“Daisy.”

“I can’t,” she said, and slipped back into the grounds and closed the gate.

Joe stood for a moment to make sure she didn’t try to sneak out again. Had he missed an opportunity to find out what was going on with Francis Woodruff? Servants saw and heard a lot more than their employers realized. . . . Joe dismissed the thought. It was more likely that Daisy had problems of her own. He just hoped it wasn’t the usual problem. First thing in the morning, he would have a little talk with Orrin—assuming it wasn’t already too late.

D
eanna’s evening sped by. She was claimed for every dance, which made her feet ache but her mother happy. In between she’d slip away to gossip with Cassie while they cooled their flushed countenances with lemonade in the lady’s parlor, while Elspeth and Cassie’s maid neatened their hair and straightened out their skirts. Then it would all begin again.

Twice Deanna shared scintillating waltzes with Lord David. He quite literally took her breath away. During the rest of the evening, she hardly saw the Manchesters except to watch
Madeline float by first with Mr. Woodruff, then with Charles, and after that on the arm of one gentleman after another.

She didn’t see Joe at all, and by midnight, when supper was served, she’d forgotten all about him. She was escorted into supper by Herbert Stanhope.

The Woodruff dining room had been transformed into a sea of small round tables set for intimate conversations. A buffet table, so crowded that the silver chafing dishes sat almost edge to edge, lined the entirety of one wall. On another table, fresh fruit and sweets were arranged artistically around an ice sculpture that surely would melt before supper was over.

Herbert seated Deanna at a table with Cassie and Vlady Howe, scion of the Boston Howes and the object of Cassie’s latest flirtation, before going off to the buffet to fill their plates.

Deanna was surprised to see Charles Woodruff seating Madeline Manchester at one table while Adelaide was seated at another with Colonel Morrell, an older British gentleman staying with his son’s family in town. Adelaide looked paler than ever and bored, though Deanna couldn’t fault her for that. The colonel did tend to ramble.

Shouldn’t Adelaide be seated next to Charles?
Of course, husbands and wives usually sat with some other acquaintance at dinner—not with each other. Her father was seated at a larger table with Mrs. Woodruff and Mrs. Van Alen; her mother with Tessie Oehlrich and two gentlemen who Deanna couldn’t see.

But Charles and Adelaide weren’t married yet. And it seemed like they’d had no time at all together this evening, what with Charles’s duties as host. Deanna felt a little sorry for her sister. It seemed to her that Charles had been paying too much attention to Madeline during the evening and not enough to his fiancée.

The supper was delicious, with crab cakes and lobster roulade, cresses, asparagus, and boeuf anglais. Deanna let Herbert fill her champagne glass twice, though she kept in mind her mother’s admonitions not to drink or eat to excess. Dessert was a glacé of mint and tiny cakes that melted in her mouth.

After supper, the ladies adjourned upstairs to freshen up while the men took the opportunity to have a port and a cigar or cigarette out on the terrace.

Deanna found Cassie and Madeline already in the withdrawing room.

“Look. I’ve torn my hem and no one can find my maid,” Madeline said.

“I told you to watch out for Dr. Morrison,” Cassie said. “He’s notorious for stepping on his dance partner’s feet.”

“Better my feet than my hem,” Madeline said. “What am I going to do?” She sank onto a nearby chaise.

“I’ll send for Elspeth,” Deanna said. “She’s a dream with a needle.”

Elspeth appeared a short time later, carrying her sewing basket.

“Oh, you are a dear,” Madeline told Deanna, and stood for Elspeth to examine the damage.

“Just hold still for a moment,” Elspeth said, and knelt to repair the fabric. It was only a few minutes before she stood and fluffed Lady Madeline’s skirts. “There, almost as good as new.”

“Oh, thank you, Deanna.”

Deanna smiled perfunctorily. “It’s Elspeth you should be thanking.”

“Oh, yes, she was wonderful,” Madeline agreed.

“Will there be anything else, miss?” Elspeth asked.

“Not at the moment,” Deanna said. “I seem to still be put together.”

Elspeth curtseyed and left the room.

The three girls returned downstairs, where the orchestra had resumed playing and the floor was soon filled with dancing couples. The room became unbearably hot, just as Deanna’s mother had predicted.

Between dances, Deanna stood near the French doors to catch a whiff of breeze. She was standing there when Cassie grabbed her hand. Her face was red against her pink dress.

“It’s sweltering. Everyone’s going out to the terrace. Come with me.”

Deanna didn’t need any persuasion. The thought of the mild ocean air had her moving through the French doors with alacrity. But once outside, she hesitated. “My mother . . .”

“Is an old fogey. Everyone under thirty is outside. And some of the old folks are, too.” She nudged Deanna farther onto the terrace. “Whew! That’s so much better,” Cassie said, fanning her face vigorously and looking around. “I was afraid I was going to wilt. Oh, there’s Vlady Howe.” She lifted her eyebrows. “He’s even richer than Lord David.”

She started off and Deanna followed, past a knot of gossiping young ladies, several middle-aged men smoking cigars, and toward a quartet of younger men who’d managed to snag a bottle of champagne and were quietly and deliberately getting drunk.

“Ah, Cassie, you wonderful creature. Just in time.” Vlady was a muscular young man, tall enough and certainly good-looking. A little too much of the playboy flair for Deanna’s taste, but he suited Cassie just fine, and she’d been on the catch for him since last season.

“I’m parched.” Cassie reached for the champagne bottle, but Vlady snatched it back.

“Not so quickly. Close your eyes.”

Cassie closed her eyes.

“Open your mouth.”

Cassie opened her mouth and tilted her chin up, which lifted her décolleté with it. Vlady openly admired it before he poured a stream of champagne into her mouth.

Cassie swallowed, choking and laughing as she batted at his arm, which had stolen around her waist and was pulling her closer.

No one offered to pour champagne down Deanna’s throat. She was as disappointed as she was relieved. She turned to look out across the lawn, where couples were strolling down to the sea or looking for a dark niche in which to carry on an affair.

Deanna knew about these things, mainly from Cassie. And from Joe’s grandmother—whom Deanna called “Gran Gwen”—who had explained the way of the world to her. “Since I know your mother won’t, and God forbid you find yourself in a situation that can’t be rectified by good manners.”

Deanna smiled, remembering that first talk. She’d blushed then, but she’d been grateful. At least she had some knowledge of the world, if only vicariously.

Vlady pulled Cassie closer, and they started across the lawn.

“Oh, do come on, Deanna,” Cassie said. “Herbert, bring Deanna along. There’s a good boy.”

Herbert Stanhope clicked his heels together in a way that made them all laugh and took Deanna’s arm. She considered demurring, but everyone else was granted more freedom than her mother allowed, and it didn’t seem fair that she had to miss all the fun.

They followed the brick walk to the cliff, passing between topiary beasts that sprouted from giant marble urns. The rising moon appeared and disappeared through the scudding clouds, and shadows of dolphins, peacocks, and rabbits dove before them as they laughed their way to the cliffs.

And Deanna began to enjoy herself immensely.

Two of Vlady’s friends began an impromptu dance among the animals and then ran headlong toward the cliff. Deanna was about to cry out to warn them when they stopped abruptly, turned, and bowed comically to their audience of four and waited for them to catch up.

The air was so much cooler here, and the breeze from the water ruffled Deanna’s hair. She lifted her face to sky, felt the salt air on her skin, and reveled in the unexpected freedom.

Until Cassie exclaimed, “Lord, what is that? Down on the rocks? Vlady, look. What is it?”

Her voice had become suddenly shrill. They all peered over to the rocks below. Something lay tangled in the shadows. At first it looked like spots of light against the dark of the rocks, but as Deanna looked more closely, she could make out the shape of—

“Good lord, someone is down there,” Vlady said. “Hello there! I say! Are you all right?” He turned to the others. “I don’t want to interrupt a tryst, but this looks— Cassie, stay here.” He thrust Cassie aside, and she grabbed hold of Deanna as the men began to scramble down the steps to the cliff walk and then climb down the rocks below.

“What are they doing?” Cassie asked.

“I think someone is hurt.”

“Who could it be?” Cassie moved to the edge of the walk. Deanna didn’t want to get closer; she had a bad feeling about
what they would discover. But truth be told, she couldn’t stay away. She stood beside Cassie, both of them staring down at the rocks, perched at the edge of the walk like a couple of birds of prey.

Vlady and the others closed in around the figure.

“Vlady! Who is it?” Cassie called out. She lifted her skirts and would have started to climb down, but Vlady stood.

“No! Go back. Don’t look.” He stretched his arms out to stop them just as the moon slipped out of the dark clouds. It illuminated Vlady’s pale, horror-stricken face. And revealed what he was trying to conceal from them.

Deanna froze. Beside her, Cassie let out a feeble cry.

A young girl, dressed in a maid’s uniform, lay crumpled on the rocks, arms flung to the side, skirts twisted around her ankles, revealing only two small feet, clad in button-up shoes. Her head had fallen back, and a strand of loosened hair fell across her face.

Deanna leaned over as far as she dared, praying that it wasn’t Elspeth. She could see the pale face in the glow of the moonlight. And she recognized her. “It’s Daisy.”

“Our Daisy?” Cassie asked, and fainted dead away.

D
eanna made an ineffectual grab for Cassie as she fell. Fortunately, their yells had attracted a crowd, and someone scooped up Cassie and carried her over to one of the marble benches that overlooked the cliff. Herbert’s mother, Mrs. Stanhope, and another lady began chafing Cassie’s hands and running a vial of smelling salts under her nose.

Seeing that Cassie was well taken care of, Deanna turned back to the gruesome scene below her.

Lord David stepped beside her. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Daisy. One of the Woodruff maids. I’m afraid she’s fallen, or something.”

“Something indeed. I hope
you
know better than to meet a lover on a cliff in the dark of night.”

Deanna looked at him, confused. What was he suggesting? That Daisy had been out meeting her sweetheart on the night of a huge ball, or that Deanna was in the habit of meeting men alone at night?

“Maybe it’s not too late. We must try to help her.” She slipped past Lord David, picked up her skirts, and started over the rocks. It was child’s play. She had climbed these rocks for years. Her skirts and delicate slippers made it a bit more precarious than usual and her slippers would most likely be ruined, but that couldn’t be helped.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Lord David’s voice.

Deanna hesitated. “Someone has to do something,” she said. “Vlady and the others are just standing there gawking.”

Lord David pulled her back and kept a firm grasp on her elbow. “Admirable, but I’m afraid no one can help that poor girl now. Look at her neck.”

Deanna looked. And she saw what she hadn’t seen before. Daisy’s head was turned far too extremely to be normal, rather like a chicken that . . . Deanna brought her hand to her mouth.

Do not be sick. Do not be sick
. Lady detective Kate Goelet wouldn’t be so squeamish. But Kate Goelet wasn’t real. Suddenly, the sea air was no longer refreshing, but clammy and evil. And Deanna would trade any manner of excitement to bring Daisy back from the dead.

Vlady looked up at them, spread his hands in a helpless gesture. Then he knelt by Daisy’s body. When he stood again, he was holding something that looked like paper. “Found this in her hand,” he called.

Deanna couldn’t seem to speak the question in her mind.

Lord David did it for her. “What is it?”

“An envelope of some sort, too dark down here to tell, really.”

The group gathered at the edge of the cliff grew to include some of the older male guests. The news must have reached the servants’ hall, because at the edge of the growing crowd,
several servants huddled together, risking their positions to see the news for themselves.

One of those stark staring faces belonged to Deanna’s own maid, Elspeth. She looked from the cliff to Deanna, then with a sob she broke away from the group and rushed to the walk. Deanna barely managed to wrench away from Lord David and stop Elspeth from careering over the edge herself.

“Is it Daisy, miss? It can’t be Daisy. Oh, please say it isn’t.”

Deanna put her arm around Elspeth. “I’m afraid so. I’m so sorry.”

Elspeth began to cry.

Suddenly Deanna’s father was there by her side.

“Don’t be angry, Papa.”

“I’m not. What has happened here?”

“There was an accident. It’s Daisy. You know Daisy.”

Her father nodded, looked over the edge of the cliff. “Vlad?”

Vlady shook his head.

“Then come away. There’s nothing more you can do down there.” Her father turned from the cliff and pointed to one of the footmen. “You there. Please take Elspeth here to the house and call for our second carriage to take her home.”

“I should go with her, Papa.”

“No, my dear. You’ll see her when we return home.”

Two of the male servants came to take Elspeth back to the house, but she held on, her eyes pleading. There was nothing Deanna could say. Daisy was dead, and there was an end to it.

The Woodruffs’ butler, Neville, stepped toward her father. “I took the liberty of calling for the police, sir. I didn’t think we should move the girl’s body into the house before they . . . can make arrangements for her to be returned to her family. They should be here shortly.”

The police.

Deanna’s father turned to her. “You’d best get back to the ballroom and make yourself presentable before your mother sees you.”

“But Papa—”

“Go now, Deanna. There’s nothing you can do.” He looked around the group. “In fact, none of you young ladies should be witnessing this. Go on, now.”

“Yes, let us go.” Lady Madeline was supporting Cassie, whose cheeks were completely drained of color. “Can you help me with Cassie? I’m afraid it’s been a terrible shock to her.”

To us all
, Deanna thought.

“No, wait,” whimpered Cassie. “Vlady’s coming back. I want to wait for Vlady.”

Vlady and Herbert were scrambling back up the rocks, and the crowd began pelting them with questions.

Vlady came straight over to them, and Cassie threw herself at him. “Now, now. Be a brave girl.” He looked at Cassie with concern, then said to Deanna, “I think we should stay behind in case we’re needed. You ladies can go up to the house. I don’t think the police will want to speak to you.”

“I should hope not,” Lady Madeline said, taking hold of Cassie. Deanna nodded and took Cassie’s other side. They were halfway up the walk when Deanna realized she hadn’t asked Vlady about the envelope.

She turned back in time to see several policemen coming around the side of the house. Four of them continued straight to the cliff. One strode toward the butler and her father.

Deanna recognized Will Hennessey, a sergeant in the Newport police. A local boy, from an old Newport family, who’d been with Bob and Joe at Yale. He had an air of authority
with enough polish to work among the inhabitants of Bellevue Avenue.

Will touched his hat to Deanna’s father, and the two men walked away from the group.

Deanna strained to hear what was being said, but it was hopeless.

“Come, let us go,” Madeline said, and Deanna reluctantly returned to the house.

Getting back inside without causing a stir was impossible. Most of the guests had heard of the discovery and were clustered, talking and speculating, on the terrace or in the French doors.

Deanna didn’t see her mother among the onlookers, but she had no doubt her mother saw her and that she’d hear about it as soon as they got home. Madeline kept her wits and neatly herded Cassie and Deanna past the waiting crowds, through the nearly empty ballroom, and upstairs to the lady’s withdrawing room to put themselves back together.

Cassie sank onto one of the wheat-colored satin stools. “Why did she have to fall off the cliff tonight of all nights?”

“Cassie!” Deanna snapped. “How can you say such a thing? The poor girl’s dead. She was seeing Joe’s apprentice. Imagine how he will feel. And her family.”

“I know. It’s just—” She burst into tears again. It took a few more minutes to calm her down.

“Oh, dear,” Madeline said. “There’s a man in the picture? That would explain it.”

“What do you mean?” Deanna asked.

“Really, Deanna, you can’t be that naïve. Why would a girl throw herself off a cliff?”

“Throw herself?” Deanna asked. “It was an accident, surely.”

“Possibly. But consider. A young woman. With a lover? Perhaps she was jilted.”

Deanna blushed. “She wouldn’t throw herself to her death over a broken engagement.”

“Perhaps not, unless maybe she was
enceinte
.”

“In the family way?” Cassie asked.

Deanna shook her head. “No. Orrin would never take advantage.”

“Oh, my dear. Men will always take advantage. And leave us to take care of the situation.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell Orrin?” Deanna said.

“Ah,” Madeline said. “Maybe she did.”

Deanna frowned.

“Oh, come now, Deanna.”

“Oh,” Deanna said, making the connection. “You think that Daisy told Orrin and he spurned her, then she jumped off that cliff in despair? I don’t believe it.”

Madeline smiled sadly. “Jumped of her own accord . . . or worse.”

Deanna stared at her.

“What do you mean?” Cassie asked.

“Perhaps she told this Orrin fellow he’d gotten her in a family way, and he pushed her off the cliff.”

Cassie and Deanna stared at her.

“Don’t you believe a man would do that? I assure you, most men would do that and worse if their lover became an inconvenience.”

Madeline, who until an hour ago had been so cheerful and vivacious, now seemed a little cold, wise and jaded beyond her years.

Deanna shook her head. “Perhaps people in Barbados are like that, but not here.”

“Of course they are, you silly girl.”

Deanna wanted to snap that she wasn’t silly, but maybe she
was
just a naïve, silly girl. She and Elspeth had read so many stories about betrayal and murder. Tales of scorned lovers; vengeful, spurned suitors; women overpowered by dastardly villains. They’d thought them exciting and fun. But this wasn’t fun. Real life, unlike the stories, didn’t always end with the heroine overcoming adversity.

“I think,” Deanna said, standing and brushing out her skirts, mainly to recapture some semblance of a rational world, “I’d better go find my mother. She’ll want to go home to see to Elspeth.”

It was a lie. Deanna was the one who was worried about Elspeth. She didn’t know what her mother would think . . . if she thought anything about it at all.

“We’ll have to get Maddie a new maid,” Cassie said.

They all stopped and looked at one another.

“That was the girl taking care of me?” Madeline asked.

Cassie bit her lip and nodded.

“Oh, dear. I didn’t recognize her at that distance.”

“Don’t worry,” Cassie said. “Let’s find Mama. She’ll know what to do.”

The three of them went downstairs and found Mrs. Woodruff attempting to pull together the remnants of her gala evening. The orchestra was tuning their instruments. Footmen with trays of champagne began to circulate through the room. But it seemed a hopeless endeavor.

Cassie ran to her.

“Oh, my dear, your father and Charles have gone down to
the cliff to talk with the police. What a disaster. And it’s not like Daisy has ever given us a moment of trouble. I just don’t know what she could have been thinking.”

Deanna didn’t either; she just couldn’t believe that Daisy had thrown herself over the cliff in despair, or worse, that Orrin had helped her do it. She excused herself and went to find her mother. She passed knots of guests talking in hushed whispers. No one was dancing, but no one was headed for the door.

It seemed to Deanna that everyone was taking a prurient interest in the maid’s death. She was, herself. And that made her uneasy. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off that poor girl, her broken body draped over the rocks, her feet in her dark button-up shoes as small as a child’s.
The Death of Innocence.

Adelaide was sitting in an alcove looking sick. Their mother was standing over her, a watchful eye on the other guests as if one of them might suddenly go berserk and kill them all.

“There you are,” her mother said as soon as Deanna approached them. “Where have you been?”

“Upstairs, refreshing myself.” Deanna was careful to hide the soiled toes of her shoes beneath her hem.

“Ah, so you missed the, um, business on the lawn.”

Deanna said nothing.

“Good. I’ve told your father we are taking the carriage home. The whole evening has been a strain on Adelaide. I knew how it would be. Stifling rooms . . .”

Deanna followed her mother’s voice out of the ballroom. They stood in the foyer while their carriage was called for. Deanna listened for the sounds of anything coming from the cliffs—police whistles, voices, anything—but the night was eerily quiet.

And now that they were leaving, she was anxious to get home
to Elspeth. She decided right then and there that she wouldn’t breathe a word of Madeline’s surmises. Surely, she had been wrong. It had to have been a terrible accident.

As soon as they were home, her mother whisked Adelaide upstairs. Deanna was tempted to wait for her father’s return to hear what the police had done, but first she needed to see Elspeth, who she knew would be waiting for her, ready to do her duty in spite of her grief. Deanna didn’t think that she herself would be so loyal.

As soon as Deanna opened the door to her room, she heard muffled sobs coming from the dressing room. They cut off abruptly as Deanna entered the room. Elspeth appeared in the doorway, face blotched but composed.

“Oh, Elspeth, I’m so sorry.” Deanna rushed to the young maid and put her arms around her. One sob escaped Elspeth, followed by a spasm of her shoulders, then she pushed away.

“Let’s get you out of that dress, miss.” Elspeth began fumbling with the buttons on Deanna’s gloves.

Deanna stood docilely. She felt selfish and useless making her maid worry about her clothing when Elspeth was grieving for her friend, who would likely have become her sister-in-law.

But maybe doing the familiar would help her to cope with her feelings. It took a few torturous minutes to divest Deanna of her evening gloves, and by the time Elspeth rolled them down her arms, Deanna was ready to yank them off in frustration and be done.