Page 19 of Murder at the Dinner Party
He deflated my hopes with a shake of his head. “Mrs. Short’s biggest concern isn’t you giving Harmony false hope. It’s what the other maids believe. If they think Harmony has an advantage by being friends with you, then they’ll take their grievances to Mrs. Short. Mrs. Short will then have to do something about it. At best, she’ll tell you to stop. At worst, she’ll dismiss Harmony or take her concerns to Sir Ronald. Perhaps both.”
He was right, but I wished he wasn’t. “How did she find out, anyway?”
“You’ll be surprised how quickly gossip is spread amongst the staff, particularly if it involves their employers.”
“I’m not their employer.”
“Your uncle is. Besides, you’re pretty, young, unwed, and new to the hotel. What better fodder for gossip is there? If you want them to stop, don’t do anything interesting and they’ll turn their attention elsewhere.”
I briefly toyed with the idea of encouraging Floyd to resume his hedonistic ways to provide a distraction, but dismissed it. I didn’t want him thrown out of carriages in the middle of the night, drunk and miserable after losing at the gambling tables again. He still stayed out most evenings until very late anyway, attending private parties. He didn’t give anyone a reason to stop gossiping about him.
“So, you do think I should end my breakfasts with Harmony?”
“No.”
“But you just confirmed that Mrs. Short might be forced to act.”
“And if she does act, I’m sure you’ll manage to defuse the situation and smooth ruffled feathers, be they hers or Sir Ronald’s. You’re good at that, particularly where he’s concerned.”
I finished my coffee and said goodbye to Luigi, the proprietor, leaning against the counter as he flipped through an instruction manual for a new coffee maker. Harry said a few words in Italian to the two creased old men perched on their favorite stools. They both looked at me, gave a single nod, and muttered something back to Harry.
Outside, I commended him on the rapid improvement in his Italian. “You were very fluent and your vocabulary has already exceeded mine.”
“Thank you. I’ve been practicing with them every day.”
I waited for more, but he didn’t elaborate. “What did you say to them?”
“It was just a little gossip to impart.”
“About me?”
“Not everything is about you, Cleo.”
“But they looked at me and nodded.”
“That was their way of saying goodbye to you.” Harry spied a cab pulling to the curb to let some passengers out. “Forget the train. This is more convenient.”
He signaled to the driver to wait. When he reached the carriage, he put out his hand to me to assist me up to the cabin.
There’s a way a gentleman holds a lady’s hand to assist her. It’s a light, impersonal touch, involving the fingers only. Harry held my hand as though we were courting.
He didn’t let go until I was seated, then he climbed in and sat beside me. If he was aware that he’d held my hand intimately, he didn’t show it. Although he did seem rather pleased with himself. He smiled at me as we set off.
“What is it?” I asked cautiously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m simply remembering the look on your face after our kiss.”
Of all the things he could have said, I’d not expected that. I was so surprised that I gulped in a gasp of air, causing me to choke. Harry offered his handkerchief as my coughing fit subsided. I pushed it away.
“This is how you looked at first,” he said. “Startled. Then you blushed the brightest red I’ve ever seen, then you ran off, but not before I saw how much you liked the kiss.”
“I did not!”
“It’s understandable. It was a very good kiss, if I do say so myself.”
His cockiness almost had me laughing out loud. I covered it with a derisive snort. “We need to change the subject.”
“Why?”
