Page 27 of The Amsterdam Enigma (The Continental Capers of Melody Chesterton #3)
M elody had slept much more soundly than Rat.
It was fortunate that she had set her alarm clock, or she might have slept right through her scheduled meeting with William.
When the alarm went off, it took a moment before it penetrated her deep sleep enough to wake her.
When it did, she shot upright, confused for a moment about where she was.
She looked at the clock and realised she hadn’t left herself much time to get ready.
She could have done with a cup of coffee, but there wasn’t enough time.
After hurriedly dressing, Melody went in search of Mary.
While she dressed, she thought about what she was going to tell her.
Was it plausible that they would visit the Hortus Botanicus together, and then somehow, she might slip away to meet William?
Melody didn’t want to explain anything more to Mary than necessary.
Besides, the investigation was so convoluted at this point that she was unsure she could even make sense of it to someone else.
Finally, Melody decided not to mention her meeting for now. Of course, Mary was far too eagle-eyed not to notice the dark circles under Melody’s eyes and, given her obvious exhaustion, question why she had to visit the botanical gardens that morning.
Melody was too exhausted to argue. “Mary, I want to go, is that not a sufficient answer? If you do not want to accompany me, I will venture out alone,” she snapped. This was a cheap shot, and Melody knew it.
“I will fetch my hat and bag and be ready to leave whenever you are, Miss Melody,” Mary said primly.
Sighing, Melody apologised. “I am sorry if I am being grumpy, Mary. I just need, I mean I want to go to the botanical gardens and I would like you to accompany me.” She could see Mary’s features soften at her words, and felt even guiltier at her manipulation of her companion.
However, it couldn’t be helped. There were weighty issues at play, and Melody was sure Mary would understand if she ever needed to be told the whole story.
Now, Melody faced a new dilemma: what if they ran into Jemima Edwards in the lobby?
The very last thing she needed was Miss Edwards tagging along on the outing.
She had seen enough of the woman to know Jemima was quite capable of doing just that.
On the other hand, she couldn’t imagine what excuse she might give Mary for sneaking them out the back of the hotel. Which was the lesser evil?
“Mary. I do have one more favour to ask of you,” Melody said tentatively, trying to sound as casual as possible. “There is a young woman with whom Mr Sandworth has become quite friendly.”
This was news to Mary, and she raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
Melody pressed on, “There is nothing wrong with this woman, Miss Edwards. In fact, she is a charming young lady. I even went shopping with her yesterday.” This also came as a surprise to Mary, her eyebrows rising even higher.
Now, Melody reached the crux of her request. “However, I would prefer this morning’s outing to be just the two of us. ”
Immediately, she could see Mary’s eyes brighten with pleasure at the suggestion that Melody wanted some time alone with her.
Feeling terrible, Melody promised herself that once this investigation was over, she would do something lovely for Mary to make up for all the lies and deception.
For now, though, she merely dug herself in deeper.
“So, if we run into her in the lobby or on the street, you might hear me lie to her. I have found that she is very quick to invite herself along for outings and so a little white lie might be necessary. You do understand, don’t you? ”
Mary smiled. “I will follow your lead, Miss Melody.”
Relieved to have one thing sorted out, Melody then realised she still needed to come up with a plausible excuse in case they bumped into Jemima.
Perhaps they were going to lunch with an old friend of Granny’s.
Yes, that was it. No well-mannered young woman would dream of inviting herself to such a social occasion.
And, just in case Jemima was not so well-mannered, it would be perfectly believable for Melody to decline.
The two women pinned on their hats, gathered their bags, and made their way to the lift and down to the hotel lobby. Despite having a foolproof excuse in hand, Melody still stepped out of the lift nervously, glancing around to see if Jemima was nearby.
When she couldn’t see the other woman anywhere, Melody whispered, “Let us make haste.” Of course, it was still possible they might run into her on the street; Miss Edwards did seem to appear at the most inconvenient times.
Melody had looked on the map, so she had some sense of how to get to the gardens.
The morning air was already warm, and sunlight flickered over the canals as they walked eastward.
A milk cart clattered past, and ahead, a flower seller called out prices in sing-song Dutch.
They crossed Muiderstraat, passing the theatre district, then turned on to Plantage Middenlaan.
The street was quieter here, shaded by rows of horse chestnut trees and lined with stately buildings and quiet fences.
Melody’s heart beat faster as they drew closer to the botanical gardens.
She wasn’t sure what Somerset had in mind with this meeting, only that he’d been intentionally vague but also quite insistent.
At the gates of the Hortus Botanicus, Melody paid the entrance fee of just a few Dutch cents, and they stepped into the cool, green hush of the garden.
The city noise faded behind them. Instantly, Melody felt as if they were in the peace of a rural estate.
It was a tranquil and beautiful place, and she wished she had the luxury of appreciating it properly.
As it was, she had an assignation to attend and a companion to shake off.
She surveyed the grounds and then glanced at Mary. How was she to slip away?
As luck would have it, the solution presented itself with no effort from Melody.
The walk to the gardens hadn’t been long, but it seemed it was enough to tire Mary out.
Looking at a lovely wrought-iron bench under a weeping willow tree, beside a charming pond, Mary admitted, “Would you be angry if I sat here for a while? It is surprisingly warm out, given that it is still morning, and you kept up quite a fast pace for the walk here.”
Melody was elated at the opportunity to rid herself of Mary with no need for an excuse, but also felt terrible for exhausting her. “Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving you, Mary?” she asked, though she couldn’t imagine what she would do if Mary did mind.
Of course, the devoted companion was far too selfless and dutiful ever to begrudge her charge a morning’s pleasure.
“Of course I don’t mind. The grounds seem perfectly safe and respectable.
I am sure there is no harm in you wandering them alone while I rest. Far better that than I hold you back.
You know where to find me when you’re done. ”
Too eager to be off, Melody made no more half-hearted attempts to dissuade Mary and instead skipped away.
A painted sign marked the path to the Palmhuis .
Melody followed it, her skirts brushing fern fronds and plants that lined her way.
The Palm House loomed ahead. It was a large, glass-and-iron building that glinted with condensation.
As Melody stepped through the entrance, a wave of humid warmth enveloped her.
The air was thick with the scent of loam, damp wood, and citrus.
Inside, towering palms cast long shadows and lent the place a somewhat menacing air, at least to her eye.
Perhaps it was simply the nature of her visit that made her feel so nervous.
Melody knew she was being irrational; this was Captain William Somerset she was meeting, not some mysterious, dangerous stranger.
She moved carefully, eyes searching each figure seated on benches or kneeling to admire exotic plants.
Somewhere inside, Somerset was waiting. And although she told herself again that she had nothing to fear from him, the dampness of her palms was caused by more than the humidity of the building.
She felt as if she had walked the entire Palm House and was beginning to wonder whether Somerset was delayed or if she had misunderstood his instructions.
Melody was exhausted and uncomfortably warm.
While she was tempted to leave and go back to the quiet spot where Mary was sitting, Melody was drawn by the sight of a bench nearby, beneath a large palm tree.
She might have dozed off for a few minutes. How else to explain that she hadn’t noticed she was no longer alone on the bench ?
A gentle hand on her arm alerted her she wasn’t alone, and a soft voice whispered, “It is wonderful to see you, Melody.”
“William,” she whispered back. “What is this all about? Why are you in Amsterdam, and why were you following us last night?”
Now that he was sitting beside her, any trepidation Melody had felt melted away.
Instead, she looked at Captain Somerset’s handsome face with his dark, close-cropped hair and soulful brown eyes, and realised how very much she had missed him.
Their previous encounter in the early hours of the morning had been so sudden and fraught with the danger of the situation that she hadn’t had time to consider her feelings at having him suddenly reappear in her life.
Without considering the wisdom of her words, Melody replied in a gentle voice, “I’ve missed you, William. Very much.”
As she said it, Melody realised how true the statement was.
She had missed everything about Captain Somerset, from his quiet, steady presence to his gentle smile.
More than anything, she had missed how she felt when she was with him: capable and confident.
William believed in her and made her believe in herself, and Melody hadn’t appreciated until that moment all that this faith meant to her.