Page 40 of Murder at the Mayfair Hotel

I followed Mrs. Kettering into her office and closed the door. She swept aside the keys and other tools of her trade attached to the chatelaine at her hip then sat.

“What is it you wanted to say to me, Miss Fox?”

I took my time. I hoped Mr. Armitage would leave immediately the coast was clear, but he might stay a few moments to look around. I scrambled to find a suitable topic to talk about.

“Miss Fox?” she barked. “Is there something wrong with your room?”

“No. It’s very nice, thank you.”

“Is Harmony doing a poor job?”

“No! Not at all. The room is very clean and tidy.”

“Does she talk too much?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked if Harmony talks too much.” She clicked her tongue. “The girl tends to prattle on uninvited. She’s too clever for her own good, that’s the problem.”

“It doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”

She regarded me down her nose. “Cleverness in a maid is a curse, Miss Fox. It gives them airs and false expectations. You wouldn’t understand.”

I stiffened. I wasn’t sure if I was more offended on Harmony’s behalf or my own. “Considering you don’t know anything about me, I don’t know how you can make that assumption.”

Her lips pinched as if she were holding in her retort.

“And I wouldn’t think that being clever would give one either airs or false expectations,” I went on. “A quick mind will make one very aware of the world and one’s situation in it, for good or ill.” I stood. If Mr. Armitage wasn’t yet out of her room then it was his problem. I wasn’t enduring Mrs. Kettering’s company another moment.

I opened the door and strode out. Insufferable woman. A brisk walk in the fresh air outside might soothe my temper. My coat and gloves were upstairs so it would be a very brief and very cold walk. I headed for the front door but was intercepted by Mr. Armitage. It would seem he’d left Mrs. Kettering’s room as soon as he could.

“A word please, Miss Fox.”

“That is an excellent idea. You have some explaining to do. I’ve just endured a conversation with Mrs. Kettering on your behalf. Now I know why the maids call her a dragon.”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw and indicated we should talk in the smoking room. It was empty, but I was very aware that someone could walk in at any moment.

“You diverted her away for me,” he said.

“She was about to walk in on you.”

“Why?”

“That’s a good question. Why were you in her room?”

“That’s none of your affair, and my question was why did you help me?”

I shrugged, not wanting to explain that I was investigating the murder. If he were the killer, it would alert him to the fact and put a target on my head. Indeed, if he were the killer, I ought not be alone with him.

“I have to meet my cousin,” I said, edging closer to the door.

He followed. “I suppose I owe you thanks.”

“It was nothing.” I turned to go, but he caught my arm. Instinctively, I jerked free. My heart pounded in my chest and my skin prickled as I stared up at him.

He stared back. “There’s a murderer in the hotel, Miss Fox. I suggest you be careful and not sneak about.” He opened the door and waited for me to leave.

I brushed past him, only to stop. We were mere inches apart. I was very aware of his superior height and those broad shoulders, the strong cheekbones and jaw. Despite our close proximity, I felt braver, most likely because we were now in full view of Peter, the guests and porters in the foyer.