Anne Perry's Christmas Mysteries: Two Holiday Novels by Anne Perry Page B

Long ago.” She blinked rapidly again. “I just came to say that if there is anything I can get for you, I should be happy to.” She had an air of sincerity as if her words were far more than mere politeness, or even obedience to Bedelia’s request.
    “Thank you,” Grandmama replied. “I…I’m afraid I have none of the usual necessities with me.” Dare she ask for a clean petticoat or chemise?
    Mrs. Ward looked embarrassed. “There is no difficulty in the least finding you toiletries, Mrs. Ellison. I was thinking of…of more personal things. If you’ll forgive my saying so, it seems to me that you and I are much the same height. If you would not be offended, ma’am, you might borrow one or two of my…my clothes. It would give us the chance to…care for yours and return them to you?” She was very pink; as if afraid already that she had presumed.
    Grandmama was suddenly touched by the woman’s kindness. It seemed perfectly genuine, and perhaps added to because she had cared for Maude. “That is extremely generous of you to offer,” she said warmly. “I would be most grateful. I have nothing but what I stand up in. It was the last thing on my mind as I left this morning.”
    Mrs. Ward colored even more, but most obviously with relief. “Then I shall see that they are brought. Thank you, ma’am.”
    “It is I who thank you,” Grandmama said, startled by her own courtesy, and rather liking it. It flashed into her mind that in a way Maude’s death had given her the opportunity to begin a new life herself, even if only for a day or two. No one here in Snave knew her. She could be anything she wanted to be. It was a dizzying sort of freedom, as if the past did not exist. She suddenly smiled at the housekeeper again. “You have extraordinary courtesy,” she added.
    Mrs. Ward blushed again, then she retreated. Fifteen minutes later she returned carrying two black dresses, an assortment of undergarments, and a nightgown.
    With the assistance of one of the maids assigned to help her, a most agreeable girl, Grandmama was able to dress for dinner in very respectable black bombazine, well cut and modest in fashion, as suited an elderly lady or a housekeeper. She put on her own jet and pearl jewelry, serving the double purpose of lifting the otherwise somberness of the attire, and also being classic mourning jewelry. She had a lot of such things, from the period when she had made a great show of being a widow.
    Added to which they were really very pretty. The seed pearls made them dainty.
    She went down the stairs and across the hall to the withdrawing room. She could hear lively conversation from inside, amazingly so, but she did not know the voices well enough to tell who they belonged to.
    She opened the door, and they all ceased instantly, faces turned toward her. The gentlemen rose to their feet and welcomed her. The ladies looked at her, made polite noises, observed the change of gown but did not remark on it.
    Conversation resumed, but stiffly, with a solemnity completely different from that before she had come in.
    “I hope you are comfortable, Mrs. Ellison?” Bedelia inquired.
    “Very, thank you,” Grandmama replied, sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs. “You are most generous.” Again she smiled.
    “It is fortunate Lord Woollard left when he did,” Clara observed.
    Grandmama wondered whether that remark was made to convince her that they had not had sufficient accommodation for more than one further guest at a time, hence the need to turn Maude away. If so, it was ridiculous. She knew there were at least two more rooms unoccupied. And family should be first, most particularly when they were returning from a long time away.
    “Indeed,” she said, as if she were agreeing. “Is he a close friend? He will be very sad to hear of Maude’s demise.”
    “He never met her,” Bedelia said hastily. “I do not think we need to cloud his Christmas by telling him bad news that can scarcely be of