Ridley tapped the table to get her husband’s attention. “None of our business, Ben.” Her eyes darted right to remind him of Fedora’s presence.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.”
Roen plowed his hand through his hair. “Does Hitch know what happened?”
“No. He’s at the office. I chose not to stop on our way here. I didn’t think telling him was a good idea right now.”
No one missed that Fedora was comforted by this news.
Roen checked his pocket watch. “He’ll be here soon to walk Fedora to Mrs. Brady’s. Except for this, we’d be finishing dinner about now.”
“I’ll head him off if you’ll provide Fedora with an escort. Ridley, are you about done here?”
Nodding, she opened her medical bag and withdrew a packet of four aspirin tablets. “Take two now and two more in six hours. You can get more from the drugstore in the morning.”
“I’ll do that for her,” said Roen.
“Good. Fedora, do you have an ice bag? Or access to one at the boardinghouse?”
“No,” said Fedora. “I don’t want to ask Mrs. Brady. If I can avoid seeing her, I’d prefer it.”
“She can take that one,” said Lily, handing Fedora a small glass of water. “Roen will pack it with more snow.”
Ridley closed her bag and stood. She took Ben by the hand. “Then we’re going. There’s no permanent damage, Fedora, but healing will take time. That was a vicious slap. If I hadn’t been told differently, I’d have said it was a haymaker. Do you know what that is?”
“Mr. Shepard explained it to me, but it was only a slap.”
“Only,” Ridley said under her breath. “Leaving now.” Her tone was a shade too bright. She pulled Ben along before anyone asked her if she was all right.
Lily followed them to the front door, thanked them again, and saw them out. She asked the children to be patient a little while longer before she returned to the kitchen. “The only thing preventing Ridley from choking the life out of Miss Headley is the oath she took. I believe she’s regretting it.”
Roen chuckled. “So Ben’s not the only one pained to be sitting on his hands.”
The truth of that made Lily smile. “I don’t think you can ever know how much it bothers her.”
“But you do?”
“I have experience.” She left it there and went to the stove to move the soup pot to the hot burner plate. “The children are hungry. Fedora, stay where you are. You’re eating with us and then Roen’s going to walk you back to the boardinghouse.” She held up a finger. “Not a word. Roen, would you kindly get another chair?”
Chapter Thirty-four
The hotel’s dining room was closed when Martin Cabot returned to the Butterworth. He tapped the bell at the registration desk but no one came to attend him. The kitchen was quiet. He walked back, peeked in, and saw it was empty. Everyone was gone for the night. Apparently no late arrivals were expected. He returned to the front desk and looked at the slotted box that held room keys and mail. Martin knew that Victorine had a suite, but he wasn’t familiar with the Butterworth’s upper floors and didn’t know the location of her room. He thought it was at the front of the hotel because she had once commented about having a view of the library and the bakery and not particularly caring for it.
All of the slots had only one key, which meant the hotel was full up and the other keys were with the occupants. He turned the registration book so he could read the names. He found Victorine’s signature beside room 212 and was prepared to go there, but then he remembered she hadn’t remained in the room she was first given. He examined the book again and found her name—not her signature—beside room 301. He removed the key from its slot and began to climb the stairs.
Standing outside the door to Victorine’s suite, Martin considered knocking and then decided against it. Surprising her was a better strategy and precisely what she deserved. He slipped the key in the lock and turned it. The main room with its large four-poster bed and sitting area by the fireplace was empty. It had not occurred to Martin that she might not be in residence. He had always felt comfortable returning to the boardinghouse once Victorine headed to her room. What amusements were there for her in Frost Falls? It wasn’tManhattan. He had observed that her status as pregnant and unmarried made her the subject of speculation and sometimes derision. She appeared not to notice, or if she did, she appeared not to care. To him it was further proof that the people she had dealings with were supremely unimportant to her. She craved only the attention of Roen Shepard. Martin Cabot found that unfathomable. Shepard had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her. Instead of accepting her comeuppance and leaving, she was waiting him out as though she expected him to change his mind.
That hadn’t happened, and Martin did not believe it would. As much as he wanted her gone, there was a part of him that admired her forbearance. It was unexpected, and the unexpected was always a good tactic. He did not know what had provoked her loss of patience or when exactly it had happened, but sometime today she had clearly lost her mind.
Martin cocked his head, directing his hearing toward an adjoining room. He heard the trickle of water, some splashing, and then humming that sounded a lot like “The Band Played On,” only a little flatter.
So this suite at the Butterworth had a bathing room. Martin was impressed that the amenity existed in a cattle community but not surprised that Victorine Headley had seized it for herself. The door was already open a few inches. He walked toward it and used a fingertip to push it open the rest of the way. He stood framed on the threshold for almost a minute before she realized she was not alone. Her startled mien was comical as she rose a few inches above the water and then immediately dropped again so only her head, neck, and the slope of her shoulders were visible.
“What in God’s name are you doing here?”
The disadvantage of her position did not soften her tone, he thought, or make her the least vulnerable. If he asked her to raise her hands, he was sure he’d see that her claws were out. “Did you hit her?” he asked. It pleased him that he was able to pose the question calmly. That was a demonstration of his control.
“Get out, Mr. Cabot. Back out of the doorway and close the door behind you. Say or do anything else and I will bring this hotel down around your head.”
