Murder at the Mayfair Hotel (Cleopatra Fox Mysteries #1)- C.J. Archer Page 0,13

than the one I’d taken tea in, as well as pointing out the luggage room, a small parlor used by staff, the vestibule leading to the dining room where diners could wait for their friends in comfortable chairs, and finally the dining room itself. Waiters wove between tables, setting places for dinner, while Mr. Chapman the steward rearranged a vase of flowers. He pinched off a rosebud and poked the stem through his buttonhole.

“That’s all the areas the guests are allowed access to, but I want to show you everything on this level and below,” Mr. Armitage said. “Do you have time?”

“An abundance of it .I’m not dining with my family until eight.”

“Including your aunt?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t she join us?”

He watched me and I watched him back, waiting for an explanation. None came. A small crease appeared between his brows, however, as if my confusion confused him in turn.

“No reason,” he said simply. “Sometimes she suffers from headaches. I assumed your aunt and uncle’s letters had informed you. Or that your cousin’s letters would. Miss Bainbridge seems like she would blurt out all sorts of secrets to her only cousin.”

“We’ve never exchanged letters,” I said.

His brows arched. “Never?”

I shook my head. “My aunt and uncle were estranged from my parents.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“You weren’t to know.”

“I feel as though I’ve stumbled my way through this conversation and thrust my nose in where it shouldn’t be.”

“Call it even, given I was lurking in the staff corridor.”

He laughed softly and led the way past tables to the corner of the dining room. “So you’ve come to London to live with people you don’t know?” he asked as he pushed open a door.

I nodded and almost told him more, about my grandfather’s debts, my dire financial situation, and the reason my mother fell out with her family. Part of me wanted to tell him. But it wasn’t something one blurted out to a man one hardly knew, particularly given he was an employee of the uncle supporting me.

“That’s very brave,” he said. “I hope your family are kind to you.”

What an odd thing to say. “Thank you.”

“And if they’re not, just come and see me.”

“Oh? You’ll box their ears on my behalf?”

He brushed past me to lead the way. “Are you mad?” he teased. “I’ll lose my position as assistant manager. They might demote me to porter. I was a porter in my first year here, and I swear my shoulders became more stooped with all the carrying. I’m sure they still are.”

I was quite sure they were not. His shoulders looked impressively wide within his well-made suit. “Very rounded,” I said with mock seriousness. “Such a pity. You would be at least another two inches taller if only you weren’t so stooped. It must be such a trial, being so short now.” Mr. Armitage may not have been as tall as the porter, but he wasn’t much shorter. My nose only reached the middle of his chest.

“So you agree, there will be no fisticuffs between myself and your uncle or cousin. When I said come and see me if your family are unkind, it was because I have the key to the cellar. You can drown your sorrows in fine wine.”

I laughed. “Is it all very fine?”

He grinned. “The most expensive money can buy. Apparently that makes it the best.”

The rest of our tour took in the service rooms including a still room, an enormous kitchen in the basement that we quickly left before we got in the way of the busy chefs, another service lift, the scullery, pantry, and finally the cellar, filled with rows and rows of wine bottles.

“This could drown a lot of sorrows,” I said.

“It would be a shame if it came to that.” His deeply melodic voice rumbled in the confines of the thick stone walls.

I glanced at him and caught him watching me from beneath lowered lashes. He quickly looked away.

“I’d better return to work,” he said, switching off the cellar light. “Can you make your own way from the dining room? I have to speak to the steward about Christmas luncheon.”

My aunt’s headache had not vanished by the time the rest of us sat down for dinner. We were given the best table, positioned at one end of the grand dining room. The large space looked different with people seated at the tables, although it was only half full and the tables were set well apart. When Mr. Armitage had given