Free Mulled Murder (Pennyfoot Holiday Mysteries) by Kate Kingsbury

“I’ll feed Champion. You go and get a carriage ready for this afternoon. You do remember how to do that, don’t you?”
    Henry nodded, thrust the bucket and broom at Charlie, and dashed out of the stable.
    Charlie shook his head and set the bucket on the ground. “I don’t know about that chap. He seems a bit queer to me.”
    Pansy frowned. “Queer? In what way?”
    Charlie grinned. “You know, a poof.” He flapped a loose hand at her.
    Pansy stared at him. “Whatever are you talking about?”
    Charlie cleared his throat. “Er . . . well, never mind, then. So, how about having a drink with me down the pub tonight? Might as well enjoy your last days of freedom, right?”
    Pansy pretended to be shocked. Picking up her skirts, she headed for the door. “I don’t have time to waste words with you, Charlie Muggins. If you’re looking for someone to take out, why don’t you ask Lilly? She seems more your type, anyway. She’ll probably faint from the excitement if you ask her out, poor bugger.”
    She marched outside, Charlie’s laughter still ringing in her ears.
    Across the courtyard she saw Henry struggling to reach the carriage windows with a wet rag. It must be hard for a man to be short, she thought, as she hurried over to him. He wasn’t much taller than her, and he didn’t look as if he had enough meat on his bones to keep him on his feet all day.
    “You need a stepladder for that,” she called out as she drew close. “There’s one in the coal shed. I’ll get it for you.”
    Henry gave her a smile that completely changed his face. “Thank you. I’m much obliged.”
    “Not at all. I’ll be right back.” Pansy hurried over to the coal shed, dragged out the small ladder, and carried it back to where Henry was polishing the brass on the carriage.
    He gave her another dazzling smile as he took the ladder from her. “That’s very kind of you,” he murmured, in his soft voice.
    Pansy hesitated. It was none of her business, of course, but sometimes Charlie could act too big for his britches. She hated to see anyone bullied, and she rather liked Henry. He seemed awfully shy, but she couldn’t see anything strange about him, like Charlie said.
    “Listen,” she said, drawing closer to the young man. “Don’t let Charlie boss you around too much. He’s only been in that job a couple of months and he thinks he owns the place. He’s no better than you, so don’t let him talk to you that way. If you stand up to him and give him what for when he shouts at you, he’ll soon stand down. You’ll see.”
    Henry looked uncomfortable. “Thank you, Pansy. I’ll remember that.”
    “Good.” She gave his bony shoulder a warm pat, then tore across the courtyard back to the kitchen.
    • • •
    Cecily reached the foyer just in time to see Sam Northcott trudging down the hallway toward the library. She was about to follow him when she caught sight of the new guest at the front door. Mindful of Baxter’s concerns, she decided to ask the gentleman for his address.
    Since they were alone in the foyer, she called out to him as he opened the door. “Mr. Granson! May I please have a word with you?”
    To her surprise, he paused in the doorway, paying no attention to her. He appeared to be gazing at something out in the street.
    Thinking he must be hard of hearing, she started toward him, raising her voice to carry clearly across the room. “Mr. Granson! I’d like a word with you, if I may?”
    Instead of turning his head, he stepped out the door and closed it firmly behind him.
    Cecily stood staring at the door in stunned dismay for several seconds. The man had to be deaf. It was odd that she hadn’t noticed that when she’d spoken to him earlier. She’d welcomed him to the Pennyfoot and asked him if he had everything he needed. He’d seemed to understand perfectly what she’d said to him.
    Shaking her head, she hurried down the hallway to the library. If Mr. Granson was, indeed, unable to hear, he