Murder at the Mayfair Hotel (Cleopatra Fox Mysteries #1)- C.J. Archer Page 0,44

that my bachelor friends would be interested in hearing about my attractive cousin from Cambridge.”

I laughed, despite myself. “Can I expect my dance card to be full or did you give a balanced picture and tell them my bad traits?”

“What bad traits?” he asked in mock seriousness.

“Floyd’s friends are very shallow,” Flossy said. “As long as you’re pretty and fun, they won’t care that you’re—” She stopped dead, her lips pursed to utter the P in poor. “That you’re educated,” she said quickly.

Floyd rolled his eyes.

Flossy tossed her red-gold curls. “Anyway, you have to go to the ball, Cleo. Mother thinks so too. Mother? Don’t you think Cleo should come to the ball?”

Aunt Lilian roused and smiled at me. “Of course. You’ll be most welcome.” Her smile turned wistful. “Your mother would approve.”

The sadness in her eyes brought a lump to my throat. It was easy to forget that I’d known my mother for only ten years, yet Aunt Lilian had known her much longer. The bond between sisters was strong, I’d been told, and it was natural she’d still think about her all these years later.

But if she’d been fond of my mother, why sever the connection? Had Uncle Ronald insisted? Or did Aunt Lilian come to regret their estrangement only after my mother’s death?

“I’ll think about it,” was all I said.

“But it’s in five days!” Flossy cried. “We’ll need time to have one of my gowns adjusted.”

“Surely it’ll only take a maid an afternoon,” Floyd said.

Flossy clicked her tongue. “Oh Floyd, honestly. You’re so male.”

He appealed to me. I shrugged. “It doesn’t seem right for me to go,” I told them both.

Flossy didn’t respond as she picked up her sandwich. She studied it for some time, turning it this way and that, a small frown connecting her brows. Then she suddenly put it down again. She turned bright eyes onto her mother.

“May we go shopping this afternoon?”

“I have a headache,” Aunt Lilian said. “In fact, I think I’ll retire to my rooms for a rest.” She rose, having hardly touched her sandwiches.

Flossy didn’t seem surprised by her mother’s response, or disappointed. “May I go if Cleo comes with me?”

“Very well,” Aunt Lilian said, walking off.

Flossy clapped her hands. “We’ll have such fun, Cleo.”

Floyd watched his mother leave, both hands on the chair arms as if he would spring up at any moment if she looked as though she would fall. While her progress was slow, she wasn’t unsteady.

“It’s Hobart,” he said as the manager appeared in the doorway to the dining room. He bowed to Aunt Lilian as she passed then scanned the room.

“He looks troubled,” Flossy said.

Floyd signaled to Mr. Hobart. “Something wrong?” he asked when the manager joined us.

“I was looking for Sir Ronald,” Mr. Hobart said. “Have you seen him?”

“I believe he went out for lunch. Why the grave face? Has something happened?”

Mr. Hobart swallowed and glanced at me.

“It’s all right,” Floyd said. “Cleo is family. If it’s something that affects the hotel then you can say it in front of her.”

Mr. Hobart moved closer. “I just received a telephone call from an acquaintance at The Evening News. He wanted to warn me of an article they’re going to run about the hotel. I’m afraid it won’t be a favorable article.”

Flossy gasped. “Is it about poor Mrs. Warrick?”

“Yes, and the implications of her murder. My contact informed me that the front page article will mention the lengthy measures Sir Ronald is going to in order to ensure the ball goes ahead.”

“What measures?” Flossy asked.

“Telephone calls to invited guests begging them to come, calling in favors, that sort of thing.”

“Begging? Calling in favors?” Floyd spluttered a laugh. “Ridiculous. Father wouldn’t stoop that low. Things aren’t that desperate yet.”

Mr. Hobart stood quite still.

Floyd’s smile vanished. His face fell. “Why didn’t he tell me it was that bad?”

“I suspect he didn’t want to worry you, Mr. Bainbridge.”

Floyd rubbed a hand over his jaw and mouth, shaking his head. Mr. Hobart looked sorry for telling him now.

“Can you ask your friend at the newspaper not to run the article?” I asked the manager.

“Unfortunately he does not have enough authority to stop it.”

“Does Father have a friend with that power?” Flossy asked. “One who owes him a favor?”

Floyd looked up, hopeful. “Is that why you want to see him?”

Mr. Hobart seemed a little pained as he shook his head. “I simply came to warn him. He’ll want to know so that he can be prepared with a response. Some of