No Clue at the Inn (Pennyfoot Hotel Mystery Book 13) by Kate Kingsbury
Authors: Kate Kingsbury
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snapped it shut and replaced it in his pocket. "—a quarter past two. I hardly think it took you four hours to consume one or two of Dolly's buns and a cup of tea."
"Banbury cakes, actually."
His eyes narrowed. "Cecily, please tell me what are you keeping from me."
Although his attitude irked her, she could hardly ignore the warning in his voice. "Oh, very well. I took theopportunity to call on Dr. Prestwick before I went to the teashop. I wanted to ask him a few questions, that's all."
"I thought as much." His voice was perfectly calm, but a pink patch on each side of his face made Cecily uneasy. "Why didn't you mention to me that you intended to see him?"
"I meant to, but you charged off to the office with no more than a faint peck on my cheek, and didn't give me time to tell you anything."
"So you thought you'd punish me by sneaking off to see an ex-suitor of yours."
She stared at him, her resentment fading. "Why, Hugh darling, I do believe you are jealous."
He drummed his fingers on the table. "Do I have reason to be?"
She burst out laughing. "Of course not. You know very well how much I adore you. No man could ever live up to you. I simply wanted to ask Kevin some questions about Barry Wrotham's accident. I swear."
To her immense relief, his stern features relaxed. "I see. So you do agree Wrotham's death was an accident, then."
"I didn't say that."
"No, you didn't." He sighed. "I don't know why I live in such hopes."
She laughed. "Come now, darling. We agreed that I should look into this, did we not?"
"We also agreed that you would not conduct an investigation without informing me about it first."
"You are quite right. I'm sorry. But you really were in rather a hurry this morning."
"Very well. I'll accept that."
"Good." She took a deep breath. "Then I hope you'llalso accept the fact that I acted purely on impulse when I left the teashop and went to search the farmhouse where Barry Wrotham died."
His expression worried her. Perhaps this time she had gone too far. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable explosion.
CHAPTER
8
A deep flush consumed Baxter's cheeks. He half rose from his chair, then sat down again. "You did
what?"
"I just thought I'd have a quick look around," Cecily said hurriedly. "No one was there and Raymond accompanied me so I was perfectly safe."
"That's not the point, is it." His disapproving gaze seemed to pierce her heart. "We specifically agreed—"
"You're right, darling. I'm most terribly sorry. But I really didn't see any danger in it."
"You never do. What about the time you visited a certain dentist without telling me why you were going? You didn't see any danger in that, either. I almost lost you that time."
"Well, yes, I do admit, that was rather a mistake."
Baxter muttered an oath under his breath and buried his forehead in his hands. "Cecily, what is the point of promising me something if you don't intend to keep it? I thought I could trust you."
"And you can, darling. Really. You know how I am. I get an idea in my head, and before I know it, I've popped off to take care of it."
"You will very likely pop right off this earth if you cannot control your wickedly impulsive streak." He lifted his head. "What do I have to do to make you understand that I am responsible for your welfare, and by breaking your promise to me, you are making my task terribly difficult, if not downright impossible?"
Cecily bent her head and tried to sound suitably contrite. "I do understand, Hugh, really I do. I swear it won't happen again." She laid a hand against her breast. "Upon my heart, I swear."
He was prevented from answering by the arrival of Jeanette bearing a tray loaded with cold chicken and ham, wedges of cheddar cheese, slices of apples and pears, pickled onions, and crusty bread. The meal was accompanied by a jug of cider and two glasses. The maid waited for Baxter to clear a space on his desk before laying down the tray.
Baxter sat in silence until she'd left the
"Banbury cakes, actually."
His eyes narrowed. "Cecily, please tell me what are you keeping from me."
Although his attitude irked her, she could hardly ignore the warning in his voice. "Oh, very well. I took theopportunity to call on Dr. Prestwick before I went to the teashop. I wanted to ask him a few questions, that's all."
"I thought as much." His voice was perfectly calm, but a pink patch on each side of his face made Cecily uneasy. "Why didn't you mention to me that you intended to see him?"
"I meant to, but you charged off to the office with no more than a faint peck on my cheek, and didn't give me time to tell you anything."
"So you thought you'd punish me by sneaking off to see an ex-suitor of yours."
She stared at him, her resentment fading. "Why, Hugh darling, I do believe you are jealous."
He drummed his fingers on the table. "Do I have reason to be?"
She burst out laughing. "Of course not. You know very well how much I adore you. No man could ever live up to you. I simply wanted to ask Kevin some questions about Barry Wrotham's accident. I swear."
To her immense relief, his stern features relaxed. "I see. So you do agree Wrotham's death was an accident, then."
"I didn't say that."
"No, you didn't." He sighed. "I don't know why I live in such hopes."
She laughed. "Come now, darling. We agreed that I should look into this, did we not?"
"We also agreed that you would not conduct an investigation without informing me about it first."
"You are quite right. I'm sorry. But you really were in rather a hurry this morning."
"Very well. I'll accept that."
"Good." She took a deep breath. "Then I hope you'llalso accept the fact that I acted purely on impulse when I left the teashop and went to search the farmhouse where Barry Wrotham died."
His expression worried her. Perhaps this time she had gone too far. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable explosion.
CHAPTER
8
A deep flush consumed Baxter's cheeks. He half rose from his chair, then sat down again. "You did
what?"
"I just thought I'd have a quick look around," Cecily said hurriedly. "No one was there and Raymond accompanied me so I was perfectly safe."
"That's not the point, is it." His disapproving gaze seemed to pierce her heart. "We specifically agreed—"
"You're right, darling. I'm most terribly sorry. But I really didn't see any danger in it."
"You never do. What about the time you visited a certain dentist without telling me why you were going? You didn't see any danger in that, either. I almost lost you that time."
"Well, yes, I do admit, that was rather a mistake."
Baxter muttered an oath under his breath and buried his forehead in his hands. "Cecily, what is the point of promising me something if you don't intend to keep it? I thought I could trust you."
"And you can, darling. Really. You know how I am. I get an idea in my head, and before I know it, I've popped off to take care of it."
"You will very likely pop right off this earth if you cannot control your wickedly impulsive streak." He lifted his head. "What do I have to do to make you understand that I am responsible for your welfare, and by breaking your promise to me, you are making my task terribly difficult, if not downright impossible?"
Cecily bent her head and tried to sound suitably contrite. "I do understand, Hugh, really I do. I swear it won't happen again." She laid a hand against her breast. "Upon my heart, I swear."
He was prevented from answering by the arrival of Jeanette bearing a tray loaded with cold chicken and ham, wedges of cheddar cheese, slices of apples and pears, pickled onions, and crusty bread. The meal was accompanied by a jug of cider and two glasses. The maid waited for Baxter to clear a space on his desk before laying down the tray.
Baxter sat in silence until she'd left the
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