Christmas Madness Page 4

  “Scones, with raisins.”

  Charlie sniffed as he looked at the elaborate plasterwork on the ceiling.

  “I’ve had better.”

  Edwina bit back a smile, knowing how incensed Mrs. O’Doul would be if she heard anyone making light of her wonderful scones were. They’d been a family favorite from the first time the Winterwoods had tasted them. “Come on in, everybody,” Edwina said, and the children walked over to where she was. “This is one of the rooms that will be decorated for our big party that's coming up,” she explained, gesturing around her, “and the big Christmas tree will go right there, in the corner.”

  Little Eliza looked over, her cornflower-blue eyes wide. “Will it be huge?” she asked, and Edwina smiled.

  “Yes, it will,” she said. "It should go all the way up to the ceiling, and we will decorate it with all sorts of things; like ribbons and candles and candy and ornaments. Don’t you think that'll be pretty?"

  Gertrude and Eliza seemed impressed, but Charlie certainly didn’t. He walked to the table where Aunt Zinnia was standing and looked over the long line of silver bells. “Hey, what are these?" he asked, putting out a tentative hand to touch them.

  Aunt Zinnia was watching him carefully. “These are history and art combined, young man,” she answered. “These are sleigh bells, just like what Santa would have on his sleigh, but these are extra special. If you look at them closely, you can see they tell the whole story of the first Christmas, so long ago.”

  Charlie leaned over, his eyes squinting a bit as he looked at the bells. “Ha,” he scoffed. “They’re okay, I guess. I'll bet they cost about a million bucks, huh?” he asked.

  “Some things are worth more than money, young man,” Aunt Zinnia said warmly as she smiled at young Charlie.

  Charlie seemed unimpressed. “Oh, yeah? Well, you try getting along in life without money. Then maybe you would change your tune.”

  Aunt Zinnia shook her head, not unkindly, and said, “You may have a point, but these bells are all about love and friendship. They've been in our family for a long, long time, and every time I look at them I think about all the people I've cared about. I think about everyone who has heard them ring on Christmas or have decorated their house with them. It reminds me of all the love throughout the years.”

  Charlie's face fell, and Edwina had a sudden pang of sorrow for him when she heard his next words. “My parents were in a car accident two years ago. I don’t think about stuff like family and love anymore, because I know it’s not real. It doesn’t last.” His eyes were downcast, and everyone was quiet for a moment while they considered his words. Finally, he gave a little cough and the hardened, world-weary expression on his face returned. “These old bells aren’t that nice anyway,” he said, wandering away as if completely disinterested.

  Edwina glanced over at the two young girls. “Well, would you like to come and see the ballroom?” she asked. She didn’t for an answer as she started walking to the hallway that led to the massive ballroom they had seen so many dances and parties in the decades since it had been built. Charlie trailed behind, glancing upward at the portraits lining the hallway and scuffling his feet on the rug as he walked.

  When Edwina reached the huge, double mahogany doors of the ballroom, she put her hands on both of them and gave them a bit of a push, so they slowly open before her. There was a chorus of oohs and ahs from the three children standing next to her when they first peered into the enormous room. The gray and white marble floor had been polished to gleaming perfection, the two massive chandeliers cleaned so they sparkled like they could have been part of heaven itself. There was a small stage set up at the end of the room and little tables scattered around the edges, so partygoers could sit and sip their drinks as they watched the action on the dance floor.

  “Well, what do you think of it?” she asked with a smile.

  There was a soft sigh from Eliza. “It's like a fairyland! Do you ever have kings and princesses come here to dance?” she asked, and Edwina chuckled.

  “No princesses yet that I know of,” she said, “but there have been some very famous men and women who have been here. Some have even fallen in love, right in this big room.” She crouched down a bit and looked in Eliza's eyes, finally reaching out a gentle hand to cup the little girl’s delicate chin. “And I'm so very glad that you're going to be here at the next party!” Edwina said. “The three of you will be my special guests, and you won't believe how many cakes and cookies there will be to eat. You're going to have such a good time!”

  Eliza looked at her soberly, as if considering whether to trust what Edwina had said, and finally, the corners of her little mouth turned upwards. “Oh,” she said softly, “I do like cake.”

  “I thought you might,” Edwina said, smiling back.

  “Um, miss, do you have a bathroom?” Gertrude asked, putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

  “Yes, of course,” Edwina replied. She nodded over the children’s heads to Fiona, the maid, who quietly ushered the girls back down the hall.

  Left alone with Charlie, Edwina clasped her hands in front of her and smiled down at the serious young man. “And I'm glad you’re going to be at the party, too, Charlie,” she said, but Charlie seemed singularly unimpressed.

  “I'm no dummy,” Charlie said, leaning back a bit to set his elbow on a tall table nearby. “I know what you're doing, lady. You're trying to be all nice to us because we’re orphans. You don't think I've seen people do that before? Talking about cake and stuff like that, but really doing a whole lotta nothing.” He stared her down for just a moment, and just as Edwina was opening her mouth to reply, he straightened up.

  “I need to use the bathroom, too.”

  “Just go back the way you came, down the hallway, and then turn left, where the maid went. You can't miss it.”

  Charlie turned and headed down the hallway without a backward glance, leaving Edwina standing all alone in the empty room, considering his words. She was slowly learning that there was a difference between charity and compassion, and even though charity and giving things could sometimes help people, compassion and caring about others was much more important. As prickly and obnoxious as Charlie was trying to be, Edwina couldn't help but feel a certain kinship with such a broken boy.

  Especially when he was trying so hard to look manly and tough.

  Chapter 4

  When it came time to drive the children back to the orphanage, Edwina volunteered to take them. The blustery Chicago winter wind was especially sharp and biting that day, and she tucked a couple thick wool blankets into the backseat with the girls. When she tried to put one around Charlie's legs in the front seat, he had protested about her fussing and rolled his eyes at least twice, but she noticed that he kept the extra wrap in place on the cold drive back to the orphanage.

  As she pulled up in front of the three-story building, Edwina's spirits sank. The exterior was gray, painted brick, with black shutters. The frozen front yard was encircled by meticulously maintained shrubs, but there was a certain sterility to the building that Edwina instantly disliked. She got out of the car and opened the children’s doors for them, then they followed her like three little ducklings up the walkway to the front stairs. It was the first time Edwina had ever been to an orphanage, and even though it was technically the children's home, she wasn't sure if she should ring the bell or just walk in.

  Charlie made the decision for her and rang the bell. He looked sideways at Edwina, the wind rifling his red hair. “Mrs. Jenkins likes to know everybody that is coming in the house,” he said. “She likes to keep everything nice and tidy, and let everybody know that she runs a tight ship.”

  The door opened with a sudden jerk, and Mrs. Jenkins was staring back at them. She broke into a broad smile. “Well, did they behave themselves?” she asked, stepping aside to let Edwina and the children walk into the front foyer. “Don’t let those girls fool ya. They can be a handful and a half.”

  As she stepped in
side, Edwina clutched her handbag and looked around her. Charlie had been exactly right. The house was in perfect order, the furniture perfectly aligned, and no toys on the floor. There were no raised voices, no pets running underfoot, and even the children she could see were dressed very cleanly, quiet, with neat and tidy hair. To many people, it would've seemed very orderly, clean, and a great place to raise children. To Edwina, however, it seemed somehow sterile and lacking in warmth. Perhaps, with so many children to care for, a great deal of organization, routine, and chores were necessary, but there was still something about it that was off-putting to Edwina.

  “They were perfectly behaved, Mrs. Jenkins. You can be proud.”

  “Thank you so much for bringing the children home, Miss Winterwood,” Mrs. Jenkins crooned as she waved the children back toward the dining room. “I'll make sure to have them at your home at the time your mother mentioned for the party.”

  Edwina's eyes were roaming around what she could see of the dining room, even as she pretended to be listening to Mrs. Jenkins’ small talk.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins. We enjoyed having the children with us today.”

  Gertrude waved goodbye to her but Eliza ran over, grabbed Edwina around the waist, and gave her a good hard squeeze. Edwina could feel the emotion gathering in her eyes and threatening to spill over her lashes, but she held it under control as she leaned down to hug the little girl’s head. "Thank you, Eliza," she said. “I'm really looking forward to seeing you at the party. What's your favorite type of cake?”

  “Lemon,” Eliza said, then paused, considering. “With pink frosting.”

  As soon as Eliza had said it Edwina made a mental note to have the biggest, most luscious lemon cake she could find as a centerpiece on the sweets table.

  With lots of pink frosting.

  Heading toward the door, she could see Charlie standing back a bit in the shadows, watching her, suspicion in his eyes. Edwina smiled and gave a little wave, but he quickly ducked out of sight, leaving her to walk out of the orphanage and back to her car with jumbled thoughts of her time together with the children.

  Chapter 5

  “I can't believe they're gone!”

  Edwina was stripping her gloves off as she strolled across the foyer, the car safely put back in the garage and under Mr. Edmondson's expert care. She had heard Aunt Zinnia’s exclamation the moment she had opened the door to the main house.

  “What's going on, Aunt Zinnia?” she asked, but as soon as her aunt turned her panic-stricken face toward Edwina, she had a sudden realization of exactly what her aunt was talking about.

  “They were right here! Right here!” Aunt Zinnia exclaimed, the many large rings on her fingers catching the light as she gestured wildly to the nearby chair. Her face was frantic, her hair swinging wildly around her. “I wrapped them up and I know I put them away in my bag, and now they're gone!”

  Seeing the exasperation on her eccentric aunt’s face, Edwina did her best to soothe her by putting a conciliatory arm around her shoulder. “We’ll do our best to find them, Aunt Zinnia," she said, looking around the room as if somehow the missing bells would suddenly appear. “They've got to be somewhere.”

  “Yes, yes they do.” Aunt Zinnia’s eyes narrowed. “And I think we both have a very good idea who may have done something with them.”

  “Are you saying that our young visitors may have taken them?” Edwina asked, trying to keep her voice calm. It was a very serious accusation to make, and she knew how much trouble would ensue if an investigation was necessary. Orphans who steal had a terrible future ahead of them.

  Aunt Zinnia brushed back a long dark curl out of her eyes, then crossed her arms over her chest, her face uncertain. “Well, if the shoe fits.”

  Edwina shook her head. “I don't see how that could be possible, Aunt Zinnia,” she said. “I drove the children back to the orphanage myself, and if any of them had had the bells with them I would've seen it. There's no way they could've hidden your bag in the car without me noticing it. Even if they had, they wouldn't have been able to retrieve it without me seeing that.”

  Aunt Zinnia’s gaze roved around the room, as if she’d somehow discover where the bells had gone by just looking, then she turned back to Edwina. “The only other thing I can think of, is that one of them must've hidden them somewhere here at the house, to come back for them later.”

  That was a possibility, even if Edwina didn't like to admit it. Her voice was gentle when she asked her aunt the next question.

  “Aunt Zinnia, are you absolutely, positively sure that the bells were in your bag? You couldn't have placed them or the bag somewhere else, could you?”

  Her aunt shot her a look colder than the North Pole. “Young lady, I may be older than you, but I'm certainly not senile. I know exactly what I did, and I know exactly where those bells were.”

  Edwina put her hands up in silent surrender. “Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'm sure you knew exactly where they were.” She sighed and looked around the room. "Now we just have to figure out where they are now, and who took them."

  Chapter 6

  “You’re just making things worse, Agnes!” Edwina sputtered, putting up a hand to try to stop her best friend from making a further catastrophe out of her hairdo. Looking at the reflection in her bedroom’s vanity mirror, she could see her friend behind her, dancing a little to some unheard song as she wrapped a bit of Edwina’s hair around a hot hair iron. She’d warned Agnes from the beginning that any attempt to soothe her unruly mop into a sleek example of sophisticated style was going to be fruitless, but Agnes had insisted on trying. Edwina’s hair had always been curly and dark, and even when it had been long it seemed to have a mind of its own. Now that she’d bobbed her hair to just below chin length, her curls had shown up in spades.

  “Just a bit more,” Agnes said soothingly, as she pulled the heated hair tongs down the length of hair she had clipped between her fingers. “You’ll be amazed at how well this thing can smooth out hair.” She smiled smugly as she pulled the tongs off the end of Edwina’s curl. “And…voila!”

  Instead of a silky-smooth length of sable-dark sleekness, the curl bounced back with a determined twist, and Edwina clapped both hands over her mouth as she laughed. “I told you!” she finally said, watching her crestfallen friend’s face. “This head of hair isn’t going to do whatever you tell it to do. I’m just not cut out to be one of those sleek-headed femme fatales, no matter how much you want it, Agnes.”

  Her blonde friend, always so fashionable and well-coiffed, snorted in disgust and carefully set the hair tongs to one side to cool.

  “That’s it. I give up!” she declared dramatically. “I’m not some miracle worker, you know. I should’ve known that your hair would be just as stubborn as you are.”

  Edwina looked in the mirror and grinned. “Maybe we just know what we are, and what we like to do, that’s all. Can’t blame us for being stubborn like that.”

  There was a discreet knock on the bedroom door, and when Edwina called for the person to come in, the maid entered, carrying a small silver tray with a folded piece of paper on it.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, miss,” she said timidly, “but Mr. Hopkins says there was a phone call for you, and he wrote down the information.” She held out the tray and Edwina retrieved the note.

  As she was unfolding it, she casually glanced in the mirror at the two women standing behind her, and her fingers stopped moving. Fiona was standing with her head bowed, her hands clasped together as they held the tray, almost as if she were afraid Agnes was going to scold or hit her. Agnes had taken a step or two back and had put her fists on her hips, an expression of determination on her face as she looked at Fiona.

  “Thank you, Fiona,” Edwina said, still watching the frozen scenario that was happening behind her, and Fiona bobbed her head once, then hurried toward the door.

  Just as she put her hand on the doorknob, Agnes craned her head around to glare at the startled maid.

/>   “Let’s hope your new job turns out better than your last one. Right?”

  At those words, Fiona’s eyes flared wide. With a gulp of fear, she choked out, “Yes, miss,” then quickly closed the door behind her. They could hear her footsteps practically dashing down the stairs.

  “Spill it,” Edwina said, turning around and putting an arm across the back of her chair. “What was all that about?”

  Agnes snorted in disgust and flopped down on Edwina’s satin-covered bed. “You hired that girl? What were you thinking?”

  “Mother did. Why?”

  “Then I guess she didn’t get the word about her.” Agnes sat up, her face alight with information to relay. “My mother heard it from Mrs. Hepperson that the Fitzsimmons found several pieces of their good silver missing. When they looked into it, the only servant who was in the area was Fiona Watson. She’d let her boyfriend into the kitchen to get out of the cold, she said, and Mr. Fitzsimmons said he thought she’d given him the silver to pawn or sell.” She gave a harrumph of disgust. “Or whatever he was going to do with it.”

  “So, they think she’s a thief,” Edwina said flatly, and gave a great sigh. “I’ll have to let Mother know about that.” She turned back to the mirror and ran a hand over her hair. “After I verify it with the Fitzsimmons family, of course.”

  Agnes’ pencil-thin eyebrows raised even higher as she sat up and her feet hit the floor. “You think I’m telling you some fairytale?”

  “Nope, not at all,” Edwina replied. “I just like to make sure I have all my facts straight.”

  Especially if there was a possibility that one of the newly hired staff had just stolen her family’s prized silver bells.

  Chapter 7

  “Oh, Miss Winterwood! We weren’t expecting you.” Mrs. Jenkins said as she stood in the doorway to the children’s home, her puzzled expression showing her confusion. She hurriedly wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “Come on in! Is everything all right?”