Heirs of the Body(34)

Martha had never ridden in a motorcar before. However, as was to be expected of an intrepid young woman who had crossed the ocean alone, pregnant, and with very little money in her purse, she was not at all nervous. The weepiness that had dismayed Daisy had been dispelled by food and the end of uncertainty about her immediate future.

“I might as well enjoy today,” she said to Daisy. “The bridge between laughing and crying’s not long.”

Daisy, on the other hand, was more than a little anxious about how Alec would take her foisting a long-lost and very distant relative by marriage on the household. No doubt he would harp on her propensity for taking people at face value. He’d point out that even if Martha really was a Dalrymple (by marriage), they knew next to nothing about her or her husband—except that her husband had recently embarked upon an illegal enterprise, at least as far as American law was concerned. To a policeman, it was not the best of recommendations. Daisy wondered whether she could get away with not telling him.

Better not, she decided with a sigh. He’d find out sooner or later and then he’d be furious at her lack of candour.

She parked in front of the house. “I hope you can manage the steps,” she said. “If it looks too much, we can go round through the garden. There’s a door on the level there, because of the slope.”

“Easy, compared to the companionways on the ship! I’ll just get my suitcase.” Martha reached back for the cardboard suitcase they had picked up from the station left luggage.

“Leave it. Elsie will bring it in. Our parlourmaid.”

Turning, Martha looked up at the house. Her eyes widened. “Is it all yours?”

“Yes. We inherited it from a great-uncle. My husband’s, not the Dalrymple side. I expect I ought to tell you, Alec’s a policeman, a detective.”

“Oh!”

“An English policeman. Prohibition is none of his business. He does know some people over there, though. Perhaps he could put out some careful feelers and see whether he can discover any news of your Sam.”

“I suppose you have to tell him.…”

“Well, I do think he’s due an explanation, don’t you?” They reached the top of the steps. Daisy crossed the porch and opened the front door. “Do come in.”

They had barely crossed the threshold when Elsie appeared at the back of the entrance hall. “Madam—” She stopped when she saw Martha.

“Mrs. Dalrymple is going to be staying with us for a while, Elsie. Please fetch her case from my car.” Daisy could rely on her parlourmaid and Mrs. Dobson to have the bed in the best spare room ready made up and aired regularly.

“Right away, madam.” She gave Martha a curious glance, but she was too well trained to stare. A treasure, Daisy thought warmly. “Madam, Mr. Fletcher telephoned to say he’s going out of town. He’ll be gone tonight and maybe several nights, he said.”

Martha looked relieved. She wouldn’t have to face the bogeyman for a day or two.

That afternoon, when Martha was taking a nap, Daisy rang up Lucy and explained the situation. “So I wondered whether you could help me buy her suitable clothes.”

Lady Gerald was not interested. “Darling,” she protested in her high, clear soprano, “you know I’m always ready to advise you—”

“Keen is the word.”

“All right, ‘keen’ to advise you on your wardrobe, for all the notice you take. But you really can’t expect me to dress a pregnant poor relation.”

“Who might be the next Lady Dalrymple.”

“Might. Besides, if your first impressions are correct, she won’t want to be beholden to you for the latest modes, which, unless expensive, are invariably vulgar. I haven’t a clue about preggy clothes, in any case.” Lucy had no children and, as far as Daisy knew, no intention of ever having any. “Take her to Selfridge’s Bargain Basement and buy her something practical.”

“I’d like her to look pretty when her husband arrives.”

“If he does.”

“Of course he will, darling, don’t be such a pessimist. In any case, she’ll have to be decently dressed when we go to Fairacres and she meets the other would-bes.”

“Talking of that gathering, I think your cousin must have run mad to invite them all. They’ll be at one another’s throats. There’ll probably be murder done.”

“What rot! You’re only saying that because I’ve been involved in one or two murder investigations.”

“One or two!” Lucy was the only person other than Alec who knew exactly how many bodies Daisy had somehow managed to stumble upon.