Chapter 55 Geraldine
Geraldine
Calvin mercifully asked no questions as they hurtled down the road.
He glanced at her through the rearview mirror from time to time but, for the most part, kept any comments he might have had to himself.
And she couldn’t have blamed him for having any.
He had appeared promptly when called, his uniform neatly pressed and his hair slicked back.
He held the door for her and handed her into the sumptuous interior without so much as a raised eyebrow.
But the boy would’ve had to have been a fool not to notice her barely contained fury.
“Need I tell you how to get there?” she asked.
“No, Mrs. Putnam. Miss Arden expects us to have an excellent working knowledge of all the addresses in the area. Yours is no exception,” he said.
Geraldine leaned back against the tufted leather seat and closed her eyes in order to stop seeing red.
It had been bad enough that Louise and her ill-mannered brood had descended upon her home without an invitation.
But for her to have deprived her of Cynthia just as she had hit her stride with the painting was unforgivable.
She could feel her heart hammering in her chest so loudly that it was a wonder Calvin didn’t pull the car to the side of the road and lift the hood, wondering what the noise was about.
She could just hear her mother reminding her of how she had always been unreasonable.
It wasn’t the done thing to get so worked up about a mere servant—and a temporary one, at that.
Still, she had made a life out of doing as she saw fit, and she had no inclination to stop now that she had finally gotten old enough for it to be one of the most useful weapons left in her arsenal.
After all, her beauty had faded, and her stamina was not what it had once been.
But the tolerance most people showed towards eccentric old ladies was still available to her.
In fact, for an artist such as herself, it was almost expected. So, unreasonable she would be.
Calvin turned into the circular drive and pulled to a stop at the curve closest to the wide porch. He made to open his door, but she stopped him.
“You wait right here and don’t move a muscle. I wouldn’t want you to have to see what is about to transpire,” she said.
The door swung open with ease, and as she felt the gravel crunch beneath her paint-spattered loafers, her fury returned with even greater force.
Feeling Calvin’s gaze on her back as she mounted the steps, she squared her shoulders and reached for the front door handle.
She stepped inside and sniffed. Unfamiliar cooking smells filled the air, and Geraldine felt all the angrier at the invasion of her space.
It felt as though they had completely taken over.
Her vigilant housemaid appeared almost at once, her small ears ever trained for the sounds of arrival.
“Mrs. Putnam, we weren’t expecting you home so soon,” she said, not able to disguise a look of relief. “Shall I prepare you something to eat?”
“No, my dear. But what you can do for me is to tell me where to find Louise,” she said, trying to keep the frightening tone from her voice.
The girl was quite a proper servant, but one who was inclined to be skittish.
She had no appetite for training someone new should the poor girl decide to leave her post.
Her eyes widened, but she bobbed her head and turned on her heel.
Geraldine followed her down the hallway until she stopped in front of the breakfast room.
She gestured with her hand, and Geraldine stepped through the door to discover Louise seated in Geraldine’s own chair at the head of the table, holding aloft a slice of toast slathered in some of Mrs. Burns’s famous blueberry preserves.
And to think she had been on slim rations this whole time while Louise had made herself free with the pantry.
Louise lowered the toast and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Louise said, without bothering to get up.
“It’s a surprise that I should come to my own home?” Geraldine asked. “Had you received word of my demise?”
Louise let out of nervous twitter. “Of course not, Auntie Geraldine. It’s just you were so adamant about your intention on remaining at the Maine Chance until we had departed that I did not expect to see you.”
“Nor would you have done so had you not made my presence necessary.”
“I can’t imagine what I might have done to cause you to return,” Louise said, her brow lowering unattractively into a scowl.
“Can you not? You didn’t think that telephoning Miss Arden and demanding that she dismiss one of her employees would provoke a response?
” Geraldine pulled up the chair at the opposite end of the table and reached for the bell.
The maid arrived so swiftly she must have been hovering in the hallway just outside.
“Please bring me a cup and another pot of coffee.”
“I cannot see how that has anything to do with you,” Louise said.
“It’s my business because I requested that Cynthia be exclusively dedicated to attending me for the duration of my stay. If I have no complaints about her, I cannot imagine why you have any to voice.”
The maid hustled in with a pot of coffee and a china cup on a silver tray.
She busied herself pouring out the steaming liquid and placing it close to Geraldine’s right hand.
Louise waited until the maid left before replying.
For all her faults, she at least had the good sense not to argue with Geraldine in front of the staff.
“I had no idea that you had any connection with the girl. I just thought that Elizabeth would appreciate hearing that she had a thief on staff before any rumors started to swirl.”
“I expect I would have noticed something missing from my rooms if Cynthia were inclined to be light-fingered,” Geraldine said. “I already had one maid dismissed for theft since I arrived there, and I didn’t need to involve Elizabeth to do it.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong.” Louise allowed one of her condescending smiles to flit across her face as she reached for another slice of toast from the silver rack. “The theft did not occur at the Maine Chance.”
“Louise, you have entirely lost me. Where is Cynthia supposed to have been taking things from if not rooms at the Maine Chance?”
“Why, here, of course,” Louise said, spooning out another great mound of Mrs. Burns’s blueberry preserves.
“What led you to believe that Cynthia was ever here?” Geraldine asked.
Louise had the good grace to give a slight cough of discomfort as if one of the toast crumbs had gone down the wrong pipe. Surely something was afoot.
“Your home is so lovely, and it clearly is such a waste not to make use of it for entertaining. A party seemed like such a good idea,” she said. “We were sure you wouldn’t mind in the least.”
“You hosted a party in my home without asking me?”
“Actually, it was Glenn. He has quite a number of friends here at the lake, and he wanted to get together with them. Considering how lavishly you and my uncle always entertained, we were certain you wouldn’t mind.”
“You allowed your child to throw a party in my home? Without consulting me? Were you at least here?”
“That wouldn’t have done at all. Children these days don’t like the old folks to hang around when they’re spending time with their friends. No, we went up the coast while the kids were having fun here.”
“How does any of this have to do with Cynthia?” Geraldine asked.
“She was at the party. Didn’t you know?” Louise gave her another condescending smile. “She tried to steal from me when she thought no one was looking.”
“According to whom?”
“My son. If you don’t believe me, you can ask him yourself,” Louise said. She reached for the bell on her end of the table and rang for the maid once more, ordering the girl to bring him to the table.
Geraldine sat staring at Louise while they waited for the boy to arrive. His mother glanced up and called past Geraldine’s shoulder to the young man as he crossed the threshold. He came alongside the table dressed in sportswear and looking as though he had not yet run a comb through his hair.
“There you are, Glenn. I was just telling Aunt Geraldine about the attempted theft last night,” Louise said.
“I don’t think there is any need to make such a fuss about it, Mother,” he said. As he stepped closer to the table, he ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it from his eyes, and Geraldine spotted a bruise darkening one of his eyes and his cheekbone.
“Not make a fuss? The girl assaulted you,” Louise said.
She pointed at her son and then stared at Geraldine, two spots of high color appearing on her cheeks.
“The girl was helping herself to the large amount of cash I had withdrawn from the bank for our visit here, when Glenn caught her in the act.”
“I suppose he claims that is what explains his injuries,” Geraldine said.
“Tell her, son,” Louise said.
Glenn turned towards Geraldine and cleared his throat.
“I didn’t know Cynthia very well, but as she was a friend of Pauline Mayhew’s, I felt compelled to invite her to the party even though she wasn’t really one of our sort, if you know what I mean.
” He glanced at his mother, who nodded encouragingly.
“Go on,” Geraldine said.
“I saw Cynthia arrive but quickly forgot about her. That is, until a few minutes later, when I went to the second floor to grab a sweater. You know how chilly it can be after the sun goes down.” He turned to Louise, who bobbed her head in agreement.
“It was a good thing too. The girl was in our bedroom rooting round in my train case,” Louise said.
Geraldine bristled at Louise’s proprietary attitude towards any part of her home, but she ignored the presumption. She had more important things to discuss than that.