enthusiasm. âIs it true? Was there really a lot of shouting and threatening at dinner?â
I never ceased to be amazed at the rate at which news traveled through the domestic staff. Winnelda, in particular, seemed to be an absolute magnet for gossip. She must have made fast friends with some of the maids.
âThere was a bit of unpleasantness,â I admitted. âIâm afraid the people here are not the greatest of friends.â
âI do hope youâll tell me all about it,â she said, as she moved to unfasten my dress.
âItâs rather a long story.â
âI donât mind, madam.â Winnelda never minded long stories. She was drawn to scandal like a bee to honey.
I stepped out of my gown and pulled on a nightdress as Winnelda moved to hang the dress in the wardrobe. I didnât particularly want to go over it all again, but I knew that she would never rest easy until I had given her the details.
âIt all goes back to something that happened here several years ago. There was a death, and Miss Van Allen wrote a book about it.â
âYes, The Dead of Winter .â Winnelda said over her shoulder.
I turned to her, surprised. âYou know it?â
âOh, yes, madam. Itâs one of my favorites. I was quite young when it was published, and I remember all the sensation it caused. My mother told me I shouldnât read such things, and so naturally I was all the more eager to read it. My friends and I all bought copies. Let me tell you, it set me to blushing more than once.â
âIf only I had thought to find a copy of it,â I mused. âIt might have proven very useful.â
âOh, you can read mine, madam,â Winnelda said.
I looked up. âYou have a copy with you?â
âYes. Right here.â She went to where she had been sitting and picked up the book I had seen her reading when I came in.
âYour resourcefulness never ceases to amaze me, Winnelda.â
âWell, when I found out we were coming here to Lyonsgate, I made sure to bring it along. I thought perhaps I could recognize some of the settings. I think, though Iâm not entirely sure, that this very bedroom was the inspiration for the scene whereâ¦â
âYes, thank you, Winnelda,â I said.
She dropped a curtsey. âIâm ever so glad to be of help to you, and I do think that youâll enjoy it. There is a scandalous scene whereâ¦â
I was spared the details as Milo came into my room from the hall.
âWill you be needing anything else tonight, madam?â Winnelda asked, setting the book on the table.
âNo. Thank you, Winnelda. And thank you for the book.â
âYouâre welcome. Goodnight, madam. Mr. Ames.â
She left and closed the door behind her, and I turned to my husband. âIâve been waiting to be alone with you all evening,â I said.
âWords I live for, my love,â he said, pulling me to him.
âThatâs not what I meant.â
âIn any event, Iâve already told Parks I wonât be needing him tonight, and now that youâve rid yourself of Winneldaâ¦â
âWhat did you make of what happened at dinner?â
âYour skin is like ice, darling,â he said, his warm hands moving up and down my arms.
âYes, itâs very cold in this house,â I said absently. âWhat do you suppose Miss Van Allen means to write about?â
Milo sighed, releasing me. âI havenât the faintest idea. Nor do I care.â
âThere must be something Reggie doesnât want people to know. I thought for a moment things might come to blows.â
âAnd you enjoyed it immensely,â he said, removing his necktie and cuff links. âI could practically feel the glee coming off of you from the other side of the room.â
âWhat a vulgar thing to say. I was terribly uncomfortable.â
He smiled. âBut you found it
Learning to Kill: Stories