Read Aunt Dimity Beats the Devil (Aunt Dimity Mystery) for Free Online Page B

nodded silently, unwilling to tear my gaze from Major Ted’s. Teddy was the only hint of normalcy in the room, and when Nicole had gone, I walked unsteadily to the bedside table and clasped the uniformed bear in my arms.
    “You’re not Reginald,” I murmured, removing the offending monocle. “But you’ll do.”
    The bath, the clean clothes, and Teddy’s comforting presence made me feel almost human. A hearty breakfast far away from the horrible red room would, I firmly believed, finish the job. I pulled on the fawn slacks, nut-brown lambswool sweater, and soft leather slippers provided by my hostess and decided that I could do without Mrs. Hatch’s services.
    I didn’t need anyone’s help to find the dining room. All I had to do was follow my nose. The mouthwatering aroma of frying bacon drew me down the main staircase to the door beside the gong in the entrance hall. I was reaching for the knob when I heard Nicole’s voice coming from inside the room. She sounded upset.
    “Oh, Jared, must you go? You know how I hate staying on here without you.”
    “You won’t be alone this time.” Jared’s bass rumble camethrough clearly to the entrance hall. “Mrs. Willis will be here to keep you company.”
    “But will she stay the whole week?” Nicole fretted. “She seemed ill-at-ease in the red room. If she decides to cut her visit short, I’m leaving. After what happened last time, I refuse—”
    “How often do I have to tell you that it was all in your head, my dear? Old houses make noises. You must simply accustom yourself to them.”
    “But it wasn’t just the noises, Jared. It was the—” Nicole fell silent, and when she spoke again, her tone of voice had changed. “Yes, Hatch, the kidneys are lovely. Would you kindly bring fresh toast for our guest when she arrives?”
    As I entered the room, a portly, middle-aged man in a black suit was leaving through another door, a silver toast rack in his hands.
    “Mrs. Hatch’s husband,” Nicole informed me, when he’d gone. “They’re both from Newcastle. We tried a local couple, but—”
    “There’s no need to bore our guest with tedious domestic affairs, my dear.” Jared rose to pull a button-backed velvet chair out for me. “Won’t you sit down, Mrs. Willis?”
    I sat opposite Nicole, with Jared taking pride of place at the head of a polished walnut table long enough to seat twelve. Behind me, a mirrored breakfront held an array of covered warming dishes. While Nicole poured tea for me, Jared crossed to the breakfront and took up a plate.
    “What may I get for you?” he asked. “Eggs, kidneys, bacon, tomatoes, kippers?”
    “All of the above,” I replied. Adam’s broth was but a distantmemory and my stomach felt as empty as a pauper’s pockets. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
    “Not at all,” said Jared. “We rarely breakfast before nine.” He placed the laden dish before me and resumed his seat. Hatch returned briefly to present me with a rack of fresh toast and I helped myself to the marmalade.
    The dining room was another Victorian time capsule, richly papered, splendidly carpeted, and overburdened with objets d’art. My hosts, however, had made a concession to modern times by exchanging vintage for contemporary clothing.
    Jared was all business in a natty black three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt and a silk tie. Nicole was more casually attired, in a flowing black wool skirt, an oversized black sweater, and woolly tights.
    I attacked my plate in silence, aware of the tension in the room, but too ravenous to care. It wasn’t until I’d quelled the worst of my hunger pangs that I decided to risk conversation.
    “Nicole tells me that you collect Victoriana, Mr. Hollander,” I said gamely. “It must have taken you years to find so many splendid pieces.”
    “Time is immaterial when one’s passion is engaged.” Jared twirled his mustache and surveyed the dining room with a benign, self-satisfied air.
    “Most of the larger