The Consequences of Fear, Jacqueline Winspear [most important books to read TXT] 📗

closed the door behind her, it seemed her stepmotherwanted to speak to her. There was always a signaling when Brenda had something on her mind—a certain stance by the kitchentable, two cups out and a pot of coffee already made. Brenda had once been Maurice’s housekeeper, and it was after he bequeathedthe Dower House to Maisie that a bond had formed between Brenda and Maisie’s father. Maisie knew that Brenda had been theonly person to ever give Maurice “a piece of her mind.” Now Maisie thought that she, too, was about to be on the receivingend of a piece of Brenda’s mind.

“I thought we could have a sit-down together before you raced back to London,” said Brenda. “Your train’s not for anotherhalf an hour, and George has offered to run you over to the station—Lord Julian said it’s all right to use the motor for shorterruns, and it’s quite warm outside already. They said on the wireless that it’ll be seventy-two degrees today, though it’llgo down the rest of the month, and then we’re in for some rain. This changeable weather makes everyone out of sorts. Anyway,I’m glad Lord Julian’s put his foot down and stopped Lady Rowan going up to London in the motor car. People look to them toset an example.”

“Well, yes, I can see his point there—and not to worry, the station isn’t far for me to walk.”

“Be that as it may, but I told Lady Rowan we’d be having a little chat this morning, so she’s sending George, which meanswe have a bit more time.”

Maisie looked at the clock again. She knew what was on Brenda’s mind. Now it seemed it was on Lady Rowan’s too. She took a seat opposite Brenda, taking the cup of coffee as it was poured for her. It was a rare treat to have someone in the house who could make such a good cup of coffee. Certainly Mark Scott—the American diplomat Maisie had been seeing—was appreciative when Maisie explained that her former employer had enjoyed a fresh, strong brew made from ground coffee beans and had taught his housekeeper how to make the perfect cup.

Maisie thought it best to claim the opening salvo. “Right, Brenda, I suppose I’m being stalled here for a grilling.” She tooka first sip of coffee, and added a sparing quarter-teaspoon of sugar.

Brenda spooned the same amount of sugar into her coffee. “It’s something that’s been on my mind for a while, but I haven’tsaid anything, and your father wouldn’t dream of interfering in your business. We live under this roof, though, and untilwe can go back to our bungalow when Mr. Beale and his family return to Eltham, it’s only fair I tell you what’s been said.Lady Rowan is worried too.”

“What’s been said about what?” asked Maisie.

“You know very well what I’m talking about. Mr. Scott.”

“I thought you and Dad liked him.”

“We like him very much—he’s a good sort, and he is wonderful with Anna. More importantly, he seems very good to you.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t be like that with me, Maisie—you know very well what I mean. There’s been talk about it in the village, and it doesn’t reflect well on any of us, especially Lady Rowan, who has a reputation to consider. Not to beat about the bush, they’re saying you’ve been living in sin with the American and you’ve let the family down to allow it to happen—what with you being a widow and Lady Rowan’s daughter-in-law into the bargain. And having adopted a little girl on your own.”

Maisie took another sip of coffee, remembering Maurice’s counsel. When emotions are running high, take time to center your thoughts before you speak. She held her left hand against the place where the buckle on her belt would fall if she were wearing one. With the otherhand, she set the cup on the saucer.

“First of all, I have never known Lady Rowan to care about anyone’s reputation—not even her own.”

“She cares about yours, and—”

“Let me finish, Brenda.” Maisie paused, still resting her hand on her middle. “Mark and I have an understanding, a companionship.Nothing happens in this house to alarm anyone. Anna is well-balanced, and she loves Mark’s company. I do not see any reasonto change our arrangement—he comes to Chelstone when he can, and is a welcome friend to our family.”

Brenda rolled her eyes. “That’s all very well, Maisie—but people want to see a ring on that finger. I’m surprised you don’t.”

“We are happy with our situation, Brenda, and we are both engaged in important work.” Maisie bit her lip.

“And exactly what is this important work? Do you think your father and I haven’t noticed that things are different? Mr. Bealeis taking on more, and you only seem to be involved in the bigger jobs—no bad thing, in my estimation—yet you’re still inLondon two or three days a week, and then every now and again you go off for a week at a time.”

“Not often, only when a case demands it—and Anna is settled now, she’s used to it.”

“No, I don’t think she is.”

Maisie looked at the clock again. She was just about to counter Brenda’s comment when the telephone rang.

“I’ll answer that,” said Maisie, pushing back her chair. She fled along the hallway to the library, which this morning felt like a refuge. She had the Bakelite receiver in her hand before the third ring.

“Chelstone—”

“Miss—what time will you be in today? Reckon about eleven?” Billy, Maisie’s assistant, sounded breathless.

“If the train’s on time, yes, about eleven o’clock. I’ve to go out again at twelve, but we can discuss the cases when I arrive,and—”

“Good—I just want to tell this boy what time to come back to talk to you.”

“What boy?”

“Oh, sorry, getting ahead of myself. Do you remember that boy, Freddie? Freddie Hackett? The one who comes with a messagefor you every now and again? Him.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Poor kid reckons he saw a man murdered a few nights ago. Knifed. Freddie said he wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s givinghim nightmares.”

“Murdered? Billy, that’s