“It was a proper knock this time,” Dot said, cautiously. “Not a sort of ‘whump.’”
“Have a look, Dot,” Delilah encouraged firmly. One needed to face one’s fears, after all.
Dot took a deep breath and very carefully, very slowly, opened the little peep hatch.
“Good morning!” a man said delightedly at once.
Dot gave a little start.
It seemed fairly clear that he hadn’t been stabbed.
Dot peered out at him.
She turned and addressed Delilah. “His spectacles are glinting,” she whispered. “I can’t see his eyes.”
This sounded rather chilling when delivered in a whisper.
“You must be Dot,” the man said more loudly. Still determinedly cheerful.
“IamDot,” she said, surprised, suddenly, and so pleased to be known she opened the door before Delilah or Angelique could issue any warnings or advice.
There stood a rangy man in a greatcoat, clutching a hat. His dark hair was mowed to no-nonsense length. His spectacles and smile were equally sparkling. A trunk and an air of happy expectation accompanied him.
“I’m so terribly sorry that I’m a day later than I expected to be! A horse on our carriage threw a shoe, you see, and we were compelled to stay in an inn on the road. Myheavens, the haunch they served was threadbare. I think the poor thing was killed two years ago and they’ve been picking at it ever since. I’m looking forward to the wonder of Helga’s cooking.”
They all stared at him in utter astonishment.
His smile faltered just a very little. It was an indomitable thing, his smile.
“Mr.... Bellingham?” Delilah guessed dazedly.
And this, of course, was the moment Mrs. Gallagher appeared on the stairs.
She paused in her descent, noticing the tableau comprised of motionless people and a man clutching a hat.
At once, the attention of everyone in the room was aggressively tugged between Mrs. Gallagher and the man in the spectacles as though they were all strapped to a Catherine wheel.
Aurelie understood at once what was happening.
“I just spoke withMr. Hawkes, who is awake and well,” she said loudly, slowly, and pointedly from the stairs.
It took about two seconds for Angelique and Delilah to crack the code.
“But...” Dot was puzzled. “If Mr. Bellingham was stab—”
Angelique gently but firmly closed her hand around Dot’s arm and gave a quelling and affectionate squeeze. “Mr. Bellingham, we are overjoyed you arrived safely!”
Mr. Bellingham bowed. “Oh, I am, too! What a pleasure it is to finally arrive at The Grand Palace on the Thames. And oh my, you described the chandelier so well. Isn’t she abeauty?” He gazed upward, happily. “You must be Mrs. Hardy, and you’re Mrs. Durand, and you’re of course Dot, and I have not had the pleasure of meeting the lady on the stairs yet.”
It was like hearing themselves recited as celebrities, and it was, admittedly, irresistible.
“Oh, we were just alittleconcerned, Mr. Bellingham,” Angelique told him gaily. “But please do not think of apologizing—we are all too familiar with life and its vicissitudes and we are quite resilient.” She aimed a swift glance at Aurelie. “It isdelightfulto meet you at last. You’ll want some tea, of course, and we’ve scones and apple tarts. Dot, take Mr. Bellingham’s coat, and we’ll have your things brought up to your room. Why don’t you have a seat in our reception room.”
“Oh, that sounds splendid. Madam, I do not yet know your name, but I expect we’ll come to know each other over a game of spillikins or some such pleasant pastime in the sitting room I’ve heard so much about.”
It was pleasantly, not oozily, said, and Aurelie liked him at once.
“I am Mrs. Mary Gallagher, sir. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bellingham.” She curtsied, and he bowed.
