I stood up and jerked Eileen to her feet. “It’s time to go back,” I said.
“Oh no, please. I really want to see a rabbit,” she protested. “Another day. Well come back another day.” I took her by one hand and pushed the doll’s pram with the other. She dragged be-hind me, protesting. “No, please. I don't want to go back. I don't want to…”
I didn't slow my pace until we were out on the sunlit lawn again.
Seventeen
I was in a quandary as to whether I should mention my suspicion to Bamey. He'd surely want to know if his daughter was in danger. But by the time I returned to the house to find tea being laid on the veranda, I realized that I might have overreacted to what had been nothing more than a cool breeze from the river. Nevertheless, I decided not to take Eileen so far from help again.
Belinda didn't appear for tea, so it was just Clara and myself. Miss Emily and Miss Ella had also been absent all day and I inquired after their health.
“They've been having their meals sent over to them,” Alice, the maid, said. “As if we don't have enough work to do around here without running up and down with food for them.”
“Are they indisposed?” I asked.
“Not that I could see.” She poured a cup of tea and placed it in front of me, giving me a look that indicated I probably wasn't worthy of being served either.
“I do hope nothing has happened to Belinda.” Clara looked flushed from working in the garden all day.
“I'm sure she’s fine. She probably stopped off to visit the Van Gelders and was invited to tea there.”
“I do hope so.” Clara fanned herself. “Young girls these days ask for trouble. Riding a bicycle to the military academy indeed.
There’s no telling what those young men would do if they saw legs exposed to the kneel”
I went to my room to rest and change for dinner. By the time I came down again, Belinda was back and looking rather smug.
“Did you manage to ride as far as the military academy?” I asked.
“No, I didn't. Cousin Bamey was absolutelyright. It was much farther than I thought and the road is atrocious. I think it’s a scandal there are no decent roads only an hour from New York City. What a backward country this is. There are fine roads all over France and England.”
“So how far did you get?” Qara asked. “As far as the Van Gelders?”
Belinda tossed back her sausage curls. “Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I stopped off there for a glass of lemonade. It was devilishly hot work, riding a bicycle, you know.”
Clara snorted. “Don't tell me you're getting sweet on Roland Van Gelder after all.”
“Good heavens, no. Not if he was the last man on earth.”
“Are their house guests still there?” I asked cautiously. “They said they planned to head out West.”
“Captain Cathers and Mr. Hartley?” Belinda blushed faintly. “Yes, they were still there. And you made quite an impression on Mr. Hartley, Molly. He couldn't stop asking questions about you. He wanted to know all about your girlhood in Ireland. Of course I had to tell him that we knew nothing about Barney’s numerous relatives in the old country.” She gave me a wicked smile. “I'll wager he was trying tofindout whether your family was prosperous enough to make a suitable match.”
“Odious man,” I said. “If he asks you about me again, please tell him I have no interest in furthering his acquaintance.”
“I don't know why,” Belinda said, and I thought she looked relieved. “He is quite good-looking. A little like Lord Byron, don't you think?”
“And just as brooding, I fear. I intend to pick a husband who can make me laugh.”
“Then you should choose Roland Van Gelder,” Belinda said, again tossing her hair. “His behavior is so pathetically comical that you'd be laughing every minute.”
She swept ahead of me down the hallway
We went into the drawing room together to find the Misses Sorensen had recovered enough to grace us with their presence. They were each sitting with a glass of sherry in their hands, working their way through a dish of cheese straws that had been placed between them.
“I was sorry to hear you were indisposed earlier today,” I said.
“Our talent is very taxing,” Miss Emily said. “Two nights in a row was too much for us. And we hear it was too much for poor Mrs. Flynn too. One does not meddle lightly with the spirit world.”
“No indeed,” said Miss Ella, her mouth full of cheese straw.
Cousin Theresa did not appear for dinner, neither did Bamey or Joseph Rimes. I had thought we would be all women at the table, but then Mr. O'Mara appeared at the last moment, looking very embarrassed at the thought of sitting with a lot of women. He took a seat beside me and concentrated hard on eating his soup. It was leek and potato, on account of being Friday, but again Cook had done a wonderful job with it.
In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)
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