It was time to face Mrs. Muller.
She crossed the room with a reluctant step, wishing Jane were here to handle this task. She always managed to deliver bad news without any hand-wringing, while Dellahatedmaking people upset with her.
That’s a selfish wish.Jane shouldn’t have to do all the unpleasant work herself. But as Della slipped through the crowd, her sense of dread only grew.
She had planned out the first part. She waited until Mrs. Muller had finished her play (another loss, for a sum that made Della wince), and then she invited her guest to provide her opinion on which of the paintings they should hang in the entryway. She had the two pieces Hannah Williams had brought with her from Devon in their office, along with a large china vase Della had pilfered from her own parents without their noticing. The art made the perfect excuse to get Mrs. Muller alone. It wouldn’t do to embarrass a patron publicly.
But once they were safely ensconced in the office and Mrs. Muller had pronounced herself in favor of the still life with the pineapple, Della’s orderly plan ran out. When she’d written herself a mental script for this moment, she’d never managed to find the right words to devastate Mrs. Muller. The other woman cut a timid figure, with her mournful eyes and a high voice that would’ve suited someone half her age.
She made Della feel like the villain of the story.
“Don’t you like the still life, Miss Danby?” Mrs. Muller was watching her expectantly, unaware of the ax about to descend upon her neck.
“Yes, that’s a lovely choice,” Della took the painting from her arms and set it upon the desk, where they could both view it from a distance. “You have a good eye. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.” She drew herself up, her eyes flitting to the exit. “Shall we go back out?”
Ugh, I wish someone would save me. Why didn’t I ask Eli to do this?
Oh, that’s right. Because she hardly deserved the title of co-owner if she couldn’t manage this task on her own. Jane had trusted her.
Della girded herself and forged ahead. “Actually, Mrs. Muller, I’m afraid we need to discuss your outstanding debts.”
The words had an immediate effect. Mrs. Muller stared at her hands, then at her shoes—anywhere to avoid Della’s gaze. She tittered nervously, the sound catching in her throat. “I–I know I’m a bit tardy settling up, but I’ll pay you straightaway once I get my pin money next month.”
Next month would be perfectly fine. That was what Della wanted to say, so they might forget this whole unpleasant business. Anything to put an end to the ugly flush creeping up Mrs. Muller’s neck.
But whatever her pin money might total, it wasn’t likely to be enough to cover what she owed. The lady was no heiress.
“I understand. You’ve always been a loyal patron.” Della felt so ashamed, she was blushing as well. “We appreciate your attendance, and we hope to see you with us again after your account is settled.”
“What do you mean?” Mrs. Muller looked as if she’d put her foot out to climb a stair and found only empty air. “Are you revoking my membership?”
Yes.The word was on the tip of Della’s tongue. Better for everyone that Mrs. Muller stop attending the club, before her losses could grow any larger. But then a tear snaked down the lady’s cheek.
Oh no.
“Nothing so final as that.” The reversal escaped Della’s lips of its own volition. She couldn’t abide crying. Not whenshewas responsible for it, at any rate. “I’m sure it will be of short duration. Just as soon as your pin money comes in and you’ve paid up in full, as you say.”
Maybe Mrs. Muller would take her exit gracefully, while her dignity was still intact.
But Della was not so fortunate. “Please, Miss Danby. I’ve just had a little string of bad luck, that’s all. There’s no need to overreact. I’ve supported you from the very beginning. Is this how you treat your friends?”
The words were laced with accusation, striking hard on Della’s conscience. It was true. Shehadbeen with them since the days when they were an intimate circle playing vingt-et-un in a drawing room. This seemed a poor reward for her loyalty.
“I’m sorry,” she tried, though it did nothing to relieve her sense of guilt. “I really wish there were some other way. But we can’t let your debts grow any higher.”
“Please,” Mrs. Muller repeated, rushing forward to clasp Della’s hand. Her grip was clammy. The tears were spilling freely down her cheeks now, her words interrupted by her hiccups. “What will my friends think when I have to explain why I can’t accompany them any longer? I can’t bear to be the subject of gossip. Couldn’t you make an exception? I promise I won’t place any large bets. I’ll just enjoy an evening out with the other ladies and play a few hands at the penny table. Then no one would have to know.”
Della felt her resolve weakening. She hated to be cruel, and banning Mrs. Muller outright would humiliate the poor woman. But she couldn’t let Jane down either.
“I want your word that you won’t play for high stakes,” Della relented. They had a “penny table,” as Mrs. Muller had called it, for the less adventurous among their guests, though it didn’t see much use compared to the other games. But if she was willing to stick to that, she couldn’t do further damage to her account. “If I see you anywhere else, I’ll have no choice but to cut you off.”
She would slip a word to the staff to keep a close eye on Mrs. Muller, in case she tried to break the terms of their agreement. Then there would be no real danger.
“You have it.” Mrs. Muller was still clutching her hand, and she shook on their deal with two rapid jerks, as if flinging the water from a dishcloth. “Oh,thankyou, Miss Danby. This means the world to me.”
Della offered her companion a cup of tea to restore her composure before she saw her back out to the gaming rooms, feeling a bit better about the whole business. It was past midnight by now, and Annabelle and Miss Greenwood seemed to have disappeared. (Had they left together? She’d missed everything!) She found herself a glass of champagne and downed it in three large swallows.
