to die.’ Flora trickled vinegar onto her fish, then caught Bunny’s expression of horror and frowned. ‘What?’
‘Are you actually going to eat that now?’ He wrinkled his nose and peered at her plate.
‘I certainly am.’ Dipping her fork into the white flesh, she brought it to her lips, trying not to moan with pleasure as she swallowed the first mouthful. ‘Eloise isn’t convinced Parnell’s death was an accident, either.’
‘Why do you care if it was murder or not?’ Bunny lowered his voice as passengers filed into the dining room. ‘You didn’t even know the man.’
‘Maybe not.’ Flora twirled her fork, pensive. ‘I simply hate being told what to do by men who think they have all the answers.’ Officer Martin’s dismissive sneer loomed into her head. She stabbed the poached egg with her knife, breaking the yolk.
‘Governess one minute, emancipated woman the next.’ Bunny regarded her over the rim of his coffee cup. ‘You’re something of an enigma, Miss Maguire.’
A warm glow spread upwards from her stomach, dissolving when it occurred to her that he couldn’t be interested in her, not really. He was merely amusing himself.
‘What about the cash Parnell won at cards?’ Flora said, composed again. ‘Eloise didn’t know about that. The money should have been in his stateroom, but there was no sign of it.’ She was about to dip a piece of bread roll into the runny egg yolk on her plate, but thought better of it.
‘His winnings could have been on his body.’ Bunny chewed a piece of bacon thoughtfully. ‘If so, Captain Gates would have lodged it in the ship’s safe.’
‘I suppose that’s possible.’ Flora sighed as her carefully thought out theory began to fall apart.
‘So where does this take us?’ Bunny asked, when she remained silent. ‘Perhaps Eloise thought he would lose her money at the card table and refused to give it to him. They argued and he ended up at the bottom of those steps?’
‘But he didn’t lose,’ Flora said. ‘He won.’
‘The other night he did, but gamblers always think they’ll win. That’s why they’re gamblers.’
‘I don’t believe Eloise is either a thief or a killer,’ Flora insisted. ‘She’s a young woman alone who has to make the best of her life because she has no one else to do it for her.’
‘How do you know she’s alone in the world? Is that what she told you?’
‘Well, not in so many words. It was an impression I got.’ Flora stirred milk into her coffee, marshalling her thoughts. ‘Bunny,’ she began, ‘something very oddhappened last night, I—’
‘I know it did. You became a burglar.’
‘No, not that, someone—’ She gasped, and clamped a hand to her mouth as creeping dread crept into her chest. ‘I’ve just remembered! We didn’t lock Parnell’s door after we left.’
Bunny groaned. ‘Tell me you’re joking.’
She shook her head, wincing. ‘Do you think anyone will notice?’
‘Probably, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.’ His gaze slid past her shoulder, and he cleared his throat in warning.
Flora turned her head just as Cynthia approached, looking stunning in yellow silk.
‘Aren’t you two the early birds,’ she cooed in a fair imitation of one herself. ‘Here I thought I was the first.’
‘The sea air makes me hungry.’ Bunny stood while Cynthia took her seat.
Flora reached for her coffee, annoyed with herself at having failed again to tell him about the threat. Now Bunny would think she was keeping secrets from him.
The dining room began to fill, putting an end to their conversation. Gerald and Monica squabbled their way from the door. On reaching their places, their sour expressions transformed into identical smiles, as if a switch had been pressed.
Most of the time the Gilmores seemed incapable of being more than a handclasp away from each other, but at others appeared positively hostile.
‘Probably sleeping it off,’ Gerald said when he caught
‘Are you actually going to eat that now?’ He wrinkled his nose and peered at her plate.
‘I certainly am.’ Dipping her fork into the white flesh, she brought it to her lips, trying not to moan with pleasure as she swallowed the first mouthful. ‘Eloise isn’t convinced Parnell’s death was an accident, either.’
‘Why do you care if it was murder or not?’ Bunny lowered his voice as passengers filed into the dining room. ‘You didn’t even know the man.’
‘Maybe not.’ Flora twirled her fork, pensive. ‘I simply hate being told what to do by men who think they have all the answers.’ Officer Martin’s dismissive sneer loomed into her head. She stabbed the poached egg with her knife, breaking the yolk.
‘Governess one minute, emancipated woman the next.’ Bunny regarded her over the rim of his coffee cup. ‘You’re something of an enigma, Miss Maguire.’
A warm glow spread upwards from her stomach, dissolving when it occurred to her that he couldn’t be interested in her, not really. He was merely amusing himself.
‘What about the cash Parnell won at cards?’ Flora said, composed again. ‘Eloise didn’t know about that. The money should have been in his stateroom, but there was no sign of it.’ She was about to dip a piece of bread roll into the runny egg yolk on her plate, but thought better of it.
‘His winnings could have been on his body.’ Bunny chewed a piece of bacon thoughtfully. ‘If so, Captain Gates would have lodged it in the ship’s safe.’
‘I suppose that’s possible.’ Flora sighed as her carefully thought out theory began to fall apart.
‘So where does this take us?’ Bunny asked, when she remained silent. ‘Perhaps Eloise thought he would lose her money at the card table and refused to give it to him. They argued and he ended up at the bottom of those steps?’
‘But he didn’t lose,’ Flora said. ‘He won.’
‘The other night he did, but gamblers always think they’ll win. That’s why they’re gamblers.’
‘I don’t believe Eloise is either a thief or a killer,’ Flora insisted. ‘She’s a young woman alone who has to make the best of her life because she has no one else to do it for her.’
‘How do you know she’s alone in the world? Is that what she told you?’
‘Well, not in so many words. It was an impression I got.’ Flora stirred milk into her coffee, marshalling her thoughts. ‘Bunny,’ she began, ‘something very oddhappened last night, I—’
‘I know it did. You became a burglar.’
‘No, not that, someone—’ She gasped, and clamped a hand to her mouth as creeping dread crept into her chest. ‘I’ve just remembered! We didn’t lock Parnell’s door after we left.’
Bunny groaned. ‘Tell me you’re joking.’
She shook her head, wincing. ‘Do you think anyone will notice?’
‘Probably, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.’ His gaze slid past her shoulder, and he cleared his throat in warning.
Flora turned her head just as Cynthia approached, looking stunning in yellow silk.
‘Aren’t you two the early birds,’ she cooed in a fair imitation of one herself. ‘Here I thought I was the first.’
‘The sea air makes me hungry.’ Bunny stood while Cynthia took her seat.
Flora reached for her coffee, annoyed with herself at having failed again to tell him about the threat. Now Bunny would think she was keeping secrets from him.
The dining room began to fill, putting an end to their conversation. Gerald and Monica squabbled their way from the door. On reaching their places, their sour expressions transformed into identical smiles, as if a switch had been pressed.
Most of the time the Gilmores seemed incapable of being more than a handclasp away from each other, but at others appeared positively hostile.
‘Probably sleeping it off,’ Gerald said when he caught
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