Whispers Beyond the Veil (20 page)

T
he moment we entered the Sea Spray I tucked my hand in the crook of Lucinda's arm and hinted to Mr. Ayers that we needed to withdraw to the ladies' washroom. As soon as we were out of earshot I explained myself.

“Lucy, could I trouble you to distract Mr. Ayers now?” I asked. “I don't want to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary.”

“Leave it to me.” I watched with admiration as Lucy flicked open her fan, then swayed off toward the ballroom. With no idea how long I had to get on with my investigation I flagged down a passing waiter and asked where I might find Mr. Jellison. He pointed me toward the far end of the ballroom.

“He's always somewhere on the dance floor. Mr. Jellison has an eye for the ladies and he never misses an opportunity to take a twirl with a pretty one.” I thanked him and made my way to the ballroom, glancing over my shoulder now and again for Mr. Ayers.

As much as it felt disloyal to admit it, even in the privacy of my own mind, I could understand why Honoria was worried about
competing with the larger hotels. The Sea Spray was simply magnificent. From the sparkling crystal chandeliers bejeweling the ballroom ceiling to the gilded moldings and the ornately carved columns, the effect was opulent and enchanting. The sound of the orchestra filled my ears and the swirling skirts of the dancers took my breath away.

Ever since arriving at the Belden I had counted myself lucky to have skimmed and slid past any social ineptitudes. I had survived the terrors of the dining room and had conducted myself admirably despite a perplexing array of cutlery and stemware. I had navigated the culture of séances and had even made inroads into the world of fashion with Lucinda's help.

Still, I was not prepared for dancing. There had simply been no opportunities to learn on the road with the medicine shows. Well, at least not the sorts of ballroom dances everyone in the Sea Spray seemed to have mastered. I doubted a jig to a rousing fiddle tune would be on the slate that evening. My confidence fled and my steps faltered. I knew I had to locate Mr. Jellison if I wanted to ask him about Cecelia's alibi but the desire to hide and to search for him from the shadows was overwhelming.

I hugged the wall of the ballroom and to my relief noticed a potted palm that promised to provide the perfect cover. I stepped behind it and settled in to search for Mr. Jellison in safety. Between the flash of the dancers, I thought I spotted my quarry. A bald man in a violently plaid jacket stood with his back to me in the center of the room. But before I decided how best to approach him, Mr. Ayers and Lucinda twirled past only inches from the palm. I ducked back, sure I had not been discovered until I heard an unwelcome voice calling my name.

•   •   •

T
he band broke into another tune, and as partners switched and spun Yancey caught sight of Miss Proulx. She stood in the corner by a potted palm, more of her hidden behind it than not. If he weren't so sure she was up to no good, Yancey would have been convinced she felt shy and overwhelmed by the crowd.

But that couldn't possibly be the case. A more forthright and obstinately independent young woman he had never met. Even his sister, Lucy, paled in comparison with Miss Proulx and her self-sufficient nature. Surely, a social gathering like a dance held no terrors for her.

Certainly, she couldn't be worried about her appearance. Yancey knew his mother and Lucy had taken great pleasure in beginning to make over Delphinia's wardrobe, bringing it up to date. He wished they hadn't done such a good job with the gown she was wearing. She looked even more infuriatingly lovely than ever. Before he could talk himself out of it, Yancey picked his way through the crowd.

“Good evening, Miss Proulx. Are the gentlemen here so little to your liking that you prefer the company of the botanical specimens?” Yancey asked. Miss Proulx's already-impeccable posture grew even more rigid at the sound of his voice. If he didn't know better Yancey would have said she was frightened.

“I find the company of this palm particularly soothing.” Despite their earlier unpleasantness Yancey felt an uncomfortable thump in his chest as he realized she looked unhappy to see him. Why should he care about the opinion of a strange girl with a dubious past?

“But a plant hasn't the ability to ask you to dance, Miss Proulx.”

“Precisely.” Yancey couldn't be sure, on account of all the noise, but he thought he detected a quaver in Miss Proulx's voice.

“Is your dance card so full you seek respite by hiding?”

“I'm afraid that is not it. If you must know, this is my very first dance and I simply don't know how it's done.” A faint blush touched Miss Proulx's cheeks, giving an even more appealing glow to her face. If Yancey didn't know better he would think she was telling the truth and was in fact sharing an embarrassing piece of information with him.

“Then I would be honored to teach you. May I have this dance?” Yancey held out his hand and gave a slight bow. With no thought to the answer he stepped forward and pulled Miss Proulx from her hiding place. With a deft hand he drew her to the edge of the dance floor and proceeded to step backward with a surety he did not know he possessed.

“I don't recall accepting your offer,” Miss Proulx said, appearing flustered. Yancey thought it suited her far better than her usual competent control. He adjusted his hold on Miss Proulx's back and steered her farther into the center of the room. For reasons he didn't wish to consider he felt eager to be seen guiding her about the floor.

“I'm not surprised, considering the problems you have with your memory. Maybe it will come back to you, like the description of the pickpocket.” He felt her hand tense in his own and a flicker of worry flitted across her face. He had spent enough time with people with a guilty conscience to know she was hiding something. “Now, let's speak of more congenial things.”

“Such as?”

“Your lovely gown and the handsome pendant you are wearing. Both seem familiar somehow.” Yancey assumed he was on safe
ground. His mother and Lucy seemed to chatter endlessly on the subject of fashion.

“That's because this gown has been hanging in your dining room for the last several days as your mother altered it for me. The necklace is one I expect you have seen in a portrait of my mother.” A hint of what looked like a genuine smile touched Miss Proulx's lips. “Honoria said it has been passed down through the women in my family for generations.”

“It must mean a great deal to you, then.” Yancey nodded toward his waist. “I have my father's pocket watch and there's nothing I would trade for it.”

“I see we understand each other. At least concerning heirlooms, if nothing else.” Miss Proulx's hostile gaze returned and Yancey felt his breath catch. “Your behavior following my visit to the station yesterday is the reason that even if I did know how to dance I would not wish to dance with you.”

“I am sorry if you felt I did not take you seriously, but the murder of Mr. Stickney was and is my top priority.”

“If it's such a priority I wonder that you have time to spare for dancing.”

“My investigation brings me to the Sea Spray. When I saw you cowering behind the shrubbery I felt it my civic duty to ask you to dance.”

“Do your civic duties also include spreading lies to my acquaintances?”

“I haven't the foggiest notion what you mean.”

“You know what you said to Nell.”

“Nell, the palm reader?”

“Yes. She said you told her I accused an Indian man of being the one who attempted to rob me. However did she get that idea?”

“You said the man was in the grip of a savage, murderous rage, did you not?”

“I believe I said something to that effect.”

“You pointed your finger right at the Indian camp.”

“I did not.”

“You described a dark-haired man, probably brown eyed, behaving like a savage.”

“And you naturally concluded the word
savage
was one I would use interchangeably with
Indian
?” Miss Proulx had stopped dead in her tracks. All around them the other dancers continued to move to the music.

“Chief Hurley made that assumption, not me.”

“But you were the one who went to the Indian camp and told Nell I had accused one of her friends or relations.”

“I went at the chief's insistence. However, I will admit I thought he had correctly interpreted your meaning.”

“I meant no such thing.” Miss Proulx shook her head with sufficient gusto to send tendrils of hair spilling from their pins. “I was shamefully embarrassed when Nell told me she no longer wants to work at the Belden. I've never been so humiliated in all my life.”

“I apologize, and if it will help I'll tell Nell myself that your words were misconstrued.” Yancey stepped toward his partner and drew her nearer to him, pulling her out of the way of a passing couple.

“That's a start,” she said. Yancey winced as Miss Proulx stomped on his foot. “Oh dear, I'm afraid I am not getting the hang of this at all.”

“You're doing fine. Just keep your eyes up and allow me to lead.”

“I have not found it in my best interest to allow gentlemen to direct me.”

“In the ballroom it is customary for the man to lead, no matter how modern his partner believes herself to be.”

“You seem to know everything. How to dance, how ladies should behave. Is there anything you don't know?”

“I don't know why you would attend a dance when you don't know how to waltz? Especially a dance at the Sea Spray? You must be aware that Jelly Roll is not one of your aunt's bosom friends.”

“Jelly Roll?”

“My apologies. I refer to Mr. Jellison, the proprietor.”

“It sounds like Honoria is not the only one who dislikes him.”

“He has his supporters but I'm not one of them. You haven't answered my question.”

“Is this part of the murder inquiry?”

“I am attempting to make polite and charming conversation with my dance partner. It's also customary.” Yancey watched the way Miss Proulx's mouth opened and then snapped shut again without a word. Really, she was very pretty when she wasn't saying something provoking. It was too good to last.

“I'm here precisely because my aunt is not on friendly terms with her neighbor. Mr. Jellison was overheard telling your boss how he planned to acquire the Belden at a drastically reduced price from the bank when our season proved disastrous financially.”

“And you came here to see for yourself the sort of man he is?”

“Amongst other things.” Miss Proulx looked around the room as if searching for someone.

“Are you holding back information that concerns the investigation?”

“I am not sure I can trust the police. I don't mean you particularly but . . .”

“You've heard the chief is related to Jelly Roll.”

“I have. Unfortunately, it makes me suspect the entire department may not act in Honoria's best interests.”

“Honoria is my mother's oldest and dearest friend. Chief Hurley does not garner more of my loyalty than my mother. Or your aunt.”

“I remain unconvinced.”

“What if I told you my visit with Nell is the reason I am here? Something she said set me to wondering the same things about Mr. Jellison you have mentioned.”

“Truly?”

“I give you my word.”

“I appreciate the confidence you shared but I believe I will keep my thoughts to myself.”

“I see. In that case I am left to guess at your purpose here. Since I am loath to believe you are the sort to frequent an establishment in search of illegal substances, I can only conclude you are here to conduct your own investigation on behalf of Honoria.”

“And what if I am?”

“I sincerely hope you will be persuaded to stop immediately. Not only would I consider you to be obstructing a police matter, I would be worried for your safety. After all, someone has murdered a man of far greater size and strength than your own.”

“How flattering of you to concern yourself with my safety. Does that mean I am no longer a suspect?”

“It is too early to tell. It isn't just your safety that worries me. It's my own.” Yancey flashed a smile down at Miss Proulx. “If you should come to harm I shall have to answer to both my mother and my sister. It doesn't bear thinking about.”

Yancey felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see one of the guests from the Hotel Belden standing behind him.

“I hope you don't mind but Ruby promised me a dance, and with such a crowd I consider myself lucky to have found her. I'd hate to lose her again,” Mr. Ayers said.

Yancey remembered him from the round of questioning he had conducted at the hotel after the murder. He hadn't much liked his easy smile and unflappable attitude at the time. He liked him even less now that he was calling Miss Proulx by her given name. The only consolation he had was that Miss Proulx looked even less eager to dance with Mr. Ayers than she had to dance with him. It looked more like she had been asked to take a turn about the room with a wheelbarrow full of fresh manure.