Page 40 of Murder at the Dinner Party
“It’s not arrogance, it’s confidence. I’m confident that you like having me around.”
I quickened my steps to get ahead of him to hide my heating face. Unfortunately, his long legs meant he easily kept up.
“You should slow down, Cleo. You look hot and bothered.” He said it with a heavy dose of humor that had my face heating more.
I must remember my parasol tomorrow. If Harry continued to tease me, I was going to need it to hide my blushes.
I was so disoriented that I forgot to answer his question. He asked it again. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going, or shall I guess?”
“If you stop distracting me by changing the subject, I would.”
“It’s not the change of subject that has you distracted, Cleo.” The humor was still in his voice, but the undertone of flirtation was unmistakable.
I studiously kept my gaze focused forward. “We’re returning to the Whitchurches’ house. We’re going to sneak in and look for a photograph of Rupert.”
My suggestion wasn’t met with an ounce of surprise, which meant he already suspected that was my plan. “And how will we do that?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m hoping for inspiration on the way.”
He laughed softly. “Just when I think you’re being predictable, you surprise me.”
“Here’s another thing that will surprise you. You’re not joining me.”
He stopped. “You said ‘we’ will sneak in.”
“I’ve changed my mind. You can’t afford to be caught, Harry. You know that. I didn’t want Victor to include you when he broke into the Campbells’ residence, and I don’t want you included this time.”
Harry wasn’t often annoyed, but he narrowed his gaze and glared daggers at me. “You need me in there, Cleo. You can’t go in alone.”
“I can and I will.”
“The Whitchurches know you, as do some of the staff. They won’t let you in, and without their permission, you can’t sneak in.”
“You didn’t meet the housekeeper, Harry, only I did. That will do.”
“Do for what?”
“For you to perform your role. I want you to create a distraction. If you do it well, not only will I not be discovered, but no one will know you were involved at all.” I set off again, leaving him staring after me, still annoyed but also confused.
When he caught up, the annoyance had vanished altogether. Harry’s bad moods didn’t last very long. “What sort of distraction do you want me to create?”
“I’ll tell you on the way to the hotel. Your costume is there.”
* * *
The costume Harryneeded was in the maintenance room, located in the basement next to the coal cellar. The maintenance engineer was tall, like Harry, but unlike Harry, he looked like he lived in the basement with his pallid skin and fleshy sacks under his eyes and at his jowls. If ever a man resembled a sad hound, it was him.
I was keen to avoid him. Indeed, I was keen not to be seen in the basement at all. My uncle didn’t like me mixing with the staff. If he knew I sat with them in the staff parlor, he’d scold me. If he knew I’d been breaking into the maintenance engineer’s cupboard to steal his spare overalls, he’d be livid.
I asked Harmony to do it instead. As a maid, it was acceptable for her to be down there. She agreed to do it and told me to meet her in the lane near the service entrance where Harry waited for me. I’d entered the hotel via the front door so that I’d be seen, before heading to the staff parlor where I suspected she’d be enjoying a cup of tea after cleaning rooms all day.
As she went down to the basement, I returned to the foyer to spend a few minutes in full view of the guests and any of my family who happened to pass. It was mid-afternoon, a rather busy time as new guests checked in. Peter and Mr. Hobart were doing their best to greet guests and make sure all was as it should be. Peter looked so much more comfortable in his role as assistant manager these days. He was very agreeable to everybody, and good at calming demanding guests, although the most demanding were usually left to Mr. Hobart.
Mr. Hobart looked at ease this afternoon. Even when Uncle Ronald entered the foyer, hat in hand as he headed for the door, Mr. Hobart didn’t bat an eye, despite the glare my uncle gave him.
Upon seeing me, Uncle Ronald approached. “He took an hour for lunch again today.”
“I assume we’re discussing Mr. Hobart?”
