Murder at the Mayfair Hotel (Cleopatra Fox Mysteries #1)- C.J. Archer Page 0,66

If word reaches those vipers waiting outside, I hate to think what will happen to The Mayfair’s reputation. Reputation is everything in this business. Hobart knew that. He built his career with that at its core. But it was all built on a lie, a rotten core, and I can’t condone that. I’m sorry you’re upset.”

“Spare me your lecture,” I spat.

His lips parted and his gaze lifted as I stood.

“I may be a woman, and you a man, but which of us acted rashly, emotionally?” I pointed at him. “You did. And which of us has more common sense?” I pointed at myself. “Me, because I can see that your business is going to suffer with them gone. Mr. Chapman and Mrs. Kettering are not up to the task of performing the manager and assistant manager’s duties in addition to their own. And have you forgotten that one of them might be stealing your silverware? I also doubt you’ll find suitable replacements for Mr. Hobart and Mr. Armitage soon—perhaps not for a very long time. And when—if—you do find replacements, it will be months before their knowledge of the hotel matches Mr. Hobart’s and Mr. Armitage’s. Perhaps even years. Can The Mayfair survive that long?” I turned to go but thought of something else, something which might get through to him more than anything else I’d said. “Added to which, if they return, they have every incentive to keep Mr. Armitage’s childhood arrest quiet. Right now, what’s stopping them from telling the newspapers? It will only hurt you. It can’t hurt them any more than it already has.”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“If I were in their position, revenge would be a very tempting carrot.”

My uncle stared at me like he’d only just begun to see me.

I felt no satisfaction as I marched out of his office. It was a relief to have spoken to him finally, but the weight that had been pressing down on my chest ever since he’d dismissed Mr. Hobart and Mr. Armitage was still there, as leaden as ever.

I had no inclination to continue with the investigation. I threw away the notes I’d made on my suspects and decided to send back Mr. Armitage’s file to the boy’s home on Dean Street. I’d go to the post desk directly after breakfast.

Harmony didn’t arrive to do my hair at eight as she usually did, and I was glad for the sleep-in. I’d hardly slept a wink. I kept replaying my confrontation with Uncle Ronald over and over, and how I could have done it differently, in a less heated way that did not jeopardize my stay at The Mayfair.

I expected to be told to leave the hotel by the end of the day, just as he’d ordered Mr. Hobart and Mr. Armitage to leave. At least if I expected it, it would not come as a surprise when it happened. I should have heeded Grandmama’s warnings to keep my opinions to myself.

Harmony arrived at nine, a bundle of enthusiasm and big smiles. “He’s back, Cleo! Isn’t it wonderful! Mr. Hobart is back. We’ve just had a staff meeting in the dining room with him, and he says he can’t wait to finalize arrangements for tomorrow night’s ball.”

I pressed a hand to my rapidly beating heart and broke into a grin. If Uncle Ronald had relented then perhaps he wouldn’t throw me out. “That is a relief. And Mr. Armitage?”

Her smile slipped. “Mr. Hobart said he won’t be returning.”

I lowered myself onto the chair at my dressing table. “Oh.”

“The position of assistant manager is now vacant and Mr. Hobart said he’ll be hiring a replacement in the new year.” She indicated I should face the mirror. “How would you like me to do your hair today?”

“I don’t care.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Don’t be so sad. Mr. Hobart’s back.”

“But not Mr. Armitage.”

“True, but he’s young enough and clever enough to find other work. He’ll be fine, and the hotel can manage with just Mr. Hobart at the helm for a while.” She laid her hands on my shoulders and smiled at my reflection. “I think he’s more upset that he can’t retire knowing the position of manager is staying in his family.”

I subjected my hair to her ministrations and was pleased with the result. She’d arranged it in a very modern swept-up style that flattered my features nicely.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Harmony.”

“Just getting in some practice.”

“For what?”

“If you change your mind and decide to go to the ball after