6 Grounds for Murder by Kate Kingsbury Page A

Belleville?”
    “Somehow the thought of Lady Belleville creeping around with an axe in her hand just doesn’t seem feasible.”
    “Perhaps her canaries flew off with it.”
    Cecily grinned. “That is definitely a consideration.”
    She leaned back, feeling better in spite of her worries. “You know, Bax, all in all the hotel business is quite an interesting vocation, don’t you agree?”
    His rare smile warmed her heart. “I wouldn’t wish to be in any other occupation, madam. Or in any place other than here at the Pennyfoot.”
    And that, Cecily thought ruefully, would have to satisfy her. For now.

CHAPTER
7
    The fog lifted sometime during the night, leaving the air smelling clean and sweet as the sun climbed out of the sea the next morning. The breeze was fresh, however, and Cecily drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders as she stood in the roof garden overlooking the Esplanade.
    She didn’t visit the tiny rose garden very often in the winter. James had created the little sanctuary after the first summer season at the hotel. During the busy months the gardens offered no respite from the ever constant questions and comments from the guests, and James had felt the need of a private place where he and his wife could be alone to exchange thoughts and ideas without fear of interruption.
    After he had passed away, Cecily opened the roof gardento the guests, so that they, too, might find a moment’s peace from the busy activities of the hotel. Somehow she knew that James would have preferred that. He would not have wanted her to mourn for him alone, using the garden as a private shrine.
    At first it had been painful to stand at the wall without him. It had been even more difficult to allow strange people to intrude in the place where she and James had shared so many happy times together. But now the memories had grown dim, and the ache of loss had almost disappeared, leaving only an occasional pang of nostalgia.
    Now she enjoyed the moments she managed to steal from her busy schedule. The view from the garden was quite spectacular. She could easily see the wide sweep of the bay with its bobbing fishing boats nestling at the foot of the majestic cliffs.
    Above the golden sands, the sloping meadows of Putney Downs flowed down to the village of Badgers End on one side, while the wooded hills on the other formed the border of Lord Withersgill’s estate.
    Thinking of the woods, Cecily felt a chill deep in her bones. The mysterious note found under her door still played heavily on her mind. In spite of Baxter’s assurance of the opposite, Cecily couldn’t help feeling that whoever had gone to the trouble of writing her that message was not a prankster.
    A flash of color at the end of the Esplanade caught her eye. Long before she could discern the features, Cecily knew the identity of the woman trotting briskly along the railings that bordered the sands.
    Her enormous hat was a magnificent concoction of ribbons and ostrich plumes in brilliant shades of purple and pink, and her tightly laced body was encased in pale gray wool trimmed with white ermine. Phoebe Carter-Holmeshad arrived for the final committee meeting before the November Fifth Ball.
    Wondering if Madeline could be far behind, Cecily took a last look at the shimmering ocean, then left the roof to go down and greet her visitors.
    She found Phoebe already seated in the library, while Madeline hovered near the French windows, staring silently into the gardens that lay behind the hotel. She must have entered through the back door of the kitchen, Cecily decided, since she hadn’t seen her arrive.
    She started to cross the room and was startled when Madeline strode over to the table and threw a large envelope down. It hit the polished surface and slid rapidly across, landing neatly in Phoebe’s lap.
    “Well, really!” Phoebe picked up the offending package with the tips of two fingers, as if afraid it would bite her.
    Madeline appeared not to notice. She