Chapter Eighteen
After an early dinner with the colonel in the dining room, Selena and Dr. Scott excused themselves and found Miss Goodwin and Mr. Davis in the billiard room.
They watched from the sidelines as the pair finished off a lively game, challenging and critiquing each other’s every shot. Miss Goodwin was equally as skilled a player as her companion, and when she sunk her last ball and gave a victory shout, Mr. Davis bowed in smiling defeat.
“You get better every time we play,” the young man admitted.
“But you put up a good fight,” Miss Goodwin teased.
Selena and the doctor applauded.
“The table is all yours.” Mr. Davis gave Selena and Dr. Scott a nod.
“We aren’t here to play.” Dr. Scott crossed to where the couple stood by the table.
“We were hoping to have a chat with you,” Selena put in, joining them. “We haven’t had a moment with just the two of you since the day this house party started. I should so like a chance to get to know you better.”
Miss Goodwin darted a glance at Mr. Davis. “Actually, I’m rather tired. I was thinking of retiring.”
“So was I,” Mr. Davis admitted.
“It’s far too early to go to bed.” Dr. Scott gave them a warm smile.
“And we wouldn’t want to waste that good fire.” Selena gestured towards the four comfortable-looking chairs arranged before the marble fireplace, where a good-sized log gave off a splendid glow.
Miss Goodwin averted her eyes as if uncertain and then said, “Well, I suppose we could stay for a minute.”
Mr. Davis frowned, but Miss Goodwin was already moving to seating area, where Dr. Scott and Selena sat down across from the pair.
“It has been such a strange day,” Miss Goodwin remarked with a sigh.
Selena nodded. “It has.”
“Such an awful event this morning.” Mr. Davis’s posture looked tense and rigid.
“And then being told that we were all on our own.” Miss Goodwin idly straightened the skirts of her black gown. “We hardly knew what to do with ourselves.”
“I hope you found some pleasant occupation?” Selena asked.
“We napped after breakfast,” Mr. Davis responded.
“And this afternoon we found some books in the library,” Miss Goodwin added.
Selena wondered if that was true. The pair hadn’t been in the library when she and the doctor had been there. “It was a pleasure watching you both play billiards.”
“Where did you two learn to play such a good game?” Dr. Scott asked.
“We have a billiards table at the hotel,” Miss Goodwin replied smoothly. “I’ve been playing since I was a child.”
“What about you, Mr. Davis?” the doctor persisted. “Not, I suppose, at the great house where you served as a footman?”
Mr. Davis froze. His face turned red. “I beg your pardon?”
Selena thought it was an ingenious question on the doctor’s part—for if Mr. Davis was Joe Webster, he would have worked in just such a position.
“I have never been a footman, nor a servant in any capacity.” Mr. Davis’s voice rang with indignation.
Doth the gentleman protest too much? Selena wondered.
Dr. Scott raised a hand. “Forgive me. I thought someone mentioned that you had.”
Mr. Davis straightened his tie, although it wasn’t the least bit askew. “I work in a bank,” he said emphatically. “And I learned to play billiards at home and at the pub.”
“Graham is just a bank clerk now, but he is on his way up,” Miss Goodwin put in. “I’m sure it will be no time before he is the manager of the place, just like his father was. Isn’t that right, dear?”
Mr. Davis stirred uneasily in his seat. “Yes, dear.”
Was it Selena’s imagination, or had they both placed unnecessary emphasis on the word dear? And why, Selena wondered, did the man look so uncomfortable? “Your father is also in the banking profession?” she asked.
“Yes, but he’s no longer in England,” Mr. Davis said quickly.
“His family had a lovely house in Haverstock Hill,” Miss Goodwin explained. “But Graham’s father sold it several years ago when his parents moved to India.”
Selena had the strangest sense that the pair was speaking from a script they had memorized. Or was she just thinking too hard? “India? How exciting. Do they like living there?”
“I’ve heard that the climate in India can be difficult for a woman raised in England,” Dr. Scott remarked, his gaze focused on Mr. Davis.
The young man cleared his throat. “My mother is a hardy woman. I miss my parents, but they are apparently content and have no plans to return to England.” Mr. Davis offered nothing more. A silence fell.
Dr. Scott turned to Miss Goodwin. “I’m fascinated to hear that you grew up at the Worthing Seaside Hotel, Miss Goodwin. Did you enjoy living there as a child?”
“Yes. It is a lovely house.”
“It must have been nice living by the sea,” Selena remarked.
Miss Goodwin gave a small sigh. “I didn’t get to enjoy it as much as I would have liked. I was so busy with my duties, making the beds and …” She stopped herself.
“‘Making the beds’?” Selena looked at her. “Isn’t that a job reserved for the chambermaid?”
Miss Goodwin’s face became suffused with color. “It’s embarrassing to think of it now, but for many years, after my father passed away, my mother couldn’t afford to keep more than one chambermaid. There was so much work to do, Mother made me help out whenever I could, before and after school.”
“I’m sure Nancy hasn’t made a bed in many a year,” Mr. Davis maintained with a tight smile.
“Indeed, you are a young lady now.” Selena fluttered a hand. “And the proprietor of the hotel.”
“Precisely,” Mr. Davis affirmed. “Running a hotel is a demanding and all-consuming position.”
“I imagine it must be expensive, too,” Dr. Scott remarked.
“It certainly is!” Mr. Davis shot back. “In addition to all the daily expenses, there’s always something in an old house that needs to be fixed or replaced.”
Miss Goodwin nodded. “They’re saying we need all new windows now and have to replace the roof as well! How we’re going to afford that, I have no idea.”
Selena filed that information away in her brain. “How did you two meet?”
The pair went quiet. After exchanging a glance, Miss Goodwin said brightly, “Graham was a guest at the hotel last summer. I didn’t even notice him the first week he was there. But he noticed me.”
Mr. Davis nodded. “I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”
Beaming, Miss Goodwin added, “He introduced himself one morning and told me his life story, about his house in Haverstock Hill and graduating from Oxford and his parents moving to India. He was so sweet and attentive, and he brought me flowers. After that … I suppose you could say I was smitten.”
Mr. Davis stared down at his hands. Once again, Selena had the sense that something was off here, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I don’t wonder that Mr. Davis claimed your heart,” she said. “He is a very charming man.”
Dr. Scott crossed one leg over the other and said off-handedly, “All this talk about the hotel—it has made me think of that sad business about Clive Webster, poor fellow. I believe you said you knew him, Miss Goodwin?”
Once again, Miss Goodwin’s cheeks turned rosy. “I—” she began.
“All that happened when Nancy was away from home,” Mr. Davis interjected.
“It’s all right, Graham, I can answer.” Miss Goodwin took a breath. “To be honest, I did know Clive. He and … and his sister started working at the hotel when I was twelve years old.”
Selena leaned forward in her chair. “What was the sister’s name again?”
Miss Goodwin pulled her lip between her teeth. “Maisie.”
“What was Maisie like?” the doctor asked.
Miss Goodwin’s eyes grew distant, as if she were wrapped in a memory—or was she carefully choosing her words? “A good girl,” she finally said.
A good girl. What a strange choice of words. Selena adopted an encouraging tone. “What do you remember about Mr. Webster?”
“Clive?” Sudden tears pooled in Miss Goodwin’s eyes.
“See here, why are you asking her all these questions?” Mr. Davis’s face contorted in a frown. “Nancy, you don’t have to answer.”
“I don’t mind.” Miss Goodwin retrieved a handkerchief from her handbag and used it to dab the moisture in her eyes.
“Clive was so sweet. He always had a grin on his face. When he entered a room, it was like he brought sunshine with him. If someone required assistance, he was always the first person to offer to help. When he was convicted of theft and imprisoned … it nearly broke my heart. It’s impossible that he could have done such a thing. ” A tear rolled down her cheek.
The young woman’s reaction was so strong, it must have meant something. Selena decided to get straight to the point—and force a confession. “You were very fond of Clive Webster,” she declared with compassion. “Which is understandable, since he was your brother.”
A silence fell. The young lady stared at her. “I beg your pardon? What did you just say?”
“Only that I sympathize with you, Miss Webster. You must miss your brother terribly,” Selena said softly.
Miss Goodwin’s brows arched skyward. “You’re confused. My name is not Webster. I am Miss Nancy Goodwin.”
“That may be the name you’re going under,” Selena persisted, “but admit it. Your name is really Maisie Webster.”
Miss Goodwin—Selena supposed she must think of her as such, until she was certain—let out a disbelieving huff, then shook her head, blinking rapidly. “What are you talking about?”
“Why else were you so distraught when you spoke of Clive Webster, unless he was your brother?” Selena charged.
Mr. Davis stood up abruptly. “This conversation has gone on long enough.”
“It has, indeed.” Miss Goodwin also rose. “If you’ll excuse us. Graham, will you see me to my room?”
“Of course.” Mr. Davis gave Selena and Dr. Scott a dark glare.