WHEN I ARRIVED in the city of Bath with my cousin Milly, it was nearly ten in the evening and I wasn’t sure what we would find in the way of accommodations. I had just finished a case with Inspector Wainwright that had ended with him suggesting Milly and I get out of London for a few days. For once, I had taken his advice. Milly had been planning on going to Bath with her former gentleman friend in a few days, so she already knew of a hotel and had been sure it would be able to accommodate the last-minute change in plans. I wasn’t as certain, but I’d left her to send a telegram while I’d quickly packed a bag on our way to the station to catch the 8:00pm to Bath. However, much to my surprise, when we arrived in Bath, there was a coachman on the platform wearing a dark blue greatcoat with a large rosette printed with “Fellcroft Hotel” pinned to the front, waiting with a luggage trolley. Milly went right up to him. “We’re going to the Fellcroft Hotel.”
“Miss Prynne from London? Then let’s stack up your bags and come this way.”
Apparently, we would have a place to stay after all.
The coachman led us to a carriage with “Fellcroft Hotel” painted on the side and held the door for us to get in. Clearly, the hotel wanted everyone to know when it had guests. I could feel the carriage move as the coachman loaded our baggage on, then sway again as he climbed to the driver’s seat.
As we drove through the town, I tried to spot any of the landmarks I’d read about. We might have passed the Pump Room, but we’d arrived so late, the streets were too dark for me to make out anything clearly. The one thing I did notice was that we were passing through what seemed to be an awful lot of the town without stopping. I hadn’t asked Milly where the hotel was located, but I had assumed she would have chosen something near the attractions of Bath.
But she hadn’t. The carriage finally stopped outside of a row of yellow brick Georgian houses which were still in the city itself from what I could tell, but on the outskirts. Four of them seemed to have been merged to make up the hotel. I was a bit surprised at Milly’s choice. While I’d never known her to be fond of Jane Austen, I had thought she’d want to be close to the baths, or at least to the shops. Still, if the hotel had been more conveniently located, we might not have gotten rooms on such short notice, even though it was late in the year for most travelers.
A gentleman in a formal suit and long sideburns met us as the carriage stopped and opened the door for us. “Miss Prynne and Miss Pengear, I presume.”
“That’s us,” Milly said as she hopped down. “Sorry to change our plans on such short notice.”
The gentleman gave us a small bow. “Mr. John Fellcroft, owner and manager, at your service. And I was sorry to hear that you and the young gentleman would not be staying with us.”
So the hotel had assumed the quick change of plans had been because of a falling out between Milly and her gentleman caller. That was surely preferable to having them know that we’d been involved in a murder investigation and left town until all the parties implicated could be arrested.
Mr. Fellcroft guided us towards the entrance. “As you’re here a bit early, we did not have two rooms available, but if the two of you don’t mind sharing...”
“That’s perfectly fine, isn’t it, Cassie?”
“Of course.” I was pleased to have anywhere to stay in town on such short notice.
“Then allow me to show you around.” He led us through to the lobby, which was decorated in full Regency style, from the light blue walls to the Grecian couch by the window.
Mr. Fellcroft brought us to the reception desk and got us signed in, then began showing us around. “We have everything you could want from a hotel. The dining room is still serving dinner if you would like something.”
“Yes,” Milly said before he could continue.
“Then I will show you the way. Thomas will bring your luggage up to your room. Down that corridor are the baths, should you wish to take the waters. You will see the schedule on the wall by the entrance. Ladies from ten to noon, and if you’d like to try mixed bathing, that’s from one to three. And here we have our dining room. Allow me to secure you a table.”
We were the only diners at such a late hour, but as I hadn’t eaten anything on the train, I wasn’t in a mood to be concerned about keeping the staff late, although when the waiter suggested we might like the fish in a tone that told me it would be the easiest thing for the kitchen to prepare, I agreed without hesitation. Milly studied the menu for what seemed an age, then decided on the same, much to the relief of the waiter. The food was served quickly, leading me to think that the fish might have already been prepared, but it was good and the dessert selection was very nice, with several fancy slices of cake wheeled out on a covered tea cart.
When we left the dining room, we found Mr. Fellcroft still in the lobby, speaking with a dark-haired young man in a fashionable but cheap suit. The new gentleman had the deferential look of an employee, but he didn’t seem to receive any task; when Mr. Fellcroft finished speaking, he simply nodded and went towards what looked to once have been the sitting room of one of the houses.
Mr. Fellcroft noticed us as soon as we entered the lobby. “Ladies, I hope you enjoyed your meal.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Now you will no doubt want to join the others in the lounge. Right through here.” He gestured towards the door the young man had gone through. “There’s a piano and card tables and books. I’m certain you will be quite comfortable.”
I was going to try to plead tiredness after our journey, but Milly tucked her arm through mine and cheerfully dragged me along to join the other guests. I had held out the small hope that the lounge might be a quiet place, perhaps as deserted as the dining room had been, but this was the sort of hotel where all the guests gathered in the lounge in the evening and played cards or gossiped or something. Definitely not the place I would have chosen. But I didn’t want to leave Milly alone, not so soon after we’d arrived, and I couldn’t exactly pull my arm away from hers in front of Mr. Fellcroft, so I followed her through.
The lounge seemed surprisingly full for such a late hour, although the room wasn’t very large. Still, the hotel must have been more popular than I’d thought. I stayed by Milly as she scanned the room, deciding where we would settle. I was surprised when she barely glanced at the two groups of men clustered around the card tables, until she spoke. “Look there, Cassie. Those two old dears seem quite nice. Why don’t you go and have a nice little chat with them?”
“I thought we were spending the evening together.” She had dragged me in here, and it would make it easier to keep her out of trouble, but I didn’t add either of those thoughts.
“Oh now, Cassie, you know how well you get along with spinsters.”
I was prepared to object to being counted in with spinsters, but the two ladies did seem to be the most interesting people in the room, not that that was saying much, so I gave Milly a smile which I could tell she correctly interpreted as not at all pleased with her and went to introduce myself to the ladies. Hopefully, they would not be the stuffy sort who insisted on formal introductions even in an informal setting as this.
I was quite relieved when the older one smiled at me and patted the seat between them. “Hello, my dear. You and your–sister?–are new here, aren’t you?”
“My cousin. Miss Milly Prynne. I’m Miss Cassandra Pengear.”
“And I’m Miss Bates, Constance Bates. And this is my sister, Miss Emmaline.”
“Pleased to meet you, dear. I do find it so difficult at these places on the first night when one doesn’t know anyone to speak to.”
“But your cousin seems to be having no trouble at all.”
I turned and saw Milly had engaged two men in conversation. She was leaning towards the one on her left while tucking her arm through the man on the right’s elbow. “Oh dear, I suppose I should go and intervene.”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Miss Emmaline said. “The one she’s talking to is Mr. Armstrong, a banker from Brighton. He’s looking for a bride, I think, but he wants someone settled. That’s why he’s here and not in London. The one she’s leaning on is Mr. Fredrickson. That’s his wife by the window. She’ll intervene before you have to. The children must all be in bed.”
I decided that, if the Misses Bates thought there was nothing to worry about, then Milly was most likely all right for the time being. “Is there anyone here I should be worried about?”
Both ladies looked around the room. Miss Emmaline spoke first. “That’s Mr. Longridge at the card table on the left. He’s in some sort of finance as well, only from Liverpool. I really don’t think he’d be interested in anything but the card table.” She nodded towards a young man with the look of a Young Lead in a play, although I had the feeling from the intense way he stared at the cards he’d been dealt that he was older than his appearance suggested
“And Mr. Langley by the window,” Miss Bates said, carefully not looking in his direction.
I glanced over and saw the dark-haired man I’d noticed in the lobby leaning on the wall near the window and letting his gaze drift across the room. When he realized I was looking at him, he gave us a charming smile.
“Of the fine legs, if you’ll pardon me, Miss Pengear,” Miss Emmaline added.
Miss Bates went on as if her sister hadn’t interrupted, “I believe he is employed by the hotel; however, as far as I can tell his job is to be decorative, which his legs do qualify him for, as you’ll see if you do any bathing. Now, that gentleman is Mr. Douglas.” She nodded to a non-descript man looking through the hotel’s selection of newspapers. “He seems to want us to believe he is a man of leisure, but he is far too careful with his suppers and generous with his tips to be entirely believable.”
“And yet he is not looking for a wife, as far as I can tell,” Miss Emmaline added.
“And approaching the card table is Mr. Gibson, cloth merchant from Leeds. I’m really not certain on his marital prospects, so I would keep at least half an eye on him. I believe that covers the gentlemen present? There is Mr. Mulgrove from Swinton, but he keeps to himself. He is looking into some investment properties, I believe. I think that covers them all.” Miss Bates turned to her sister.
“It does, assuming you’ve already met Mr. Fellcroft?”
“He greeted us when we arrived.”
“Yes, he does like to do that. Then we should point out the ladies, as well.” Miss Emmaline nodded towards the armchairs by the fireplace. “That’s Miss Grangeway and her mother, Mrs. Grangeway. She is looking for a husband and not having much luck. I think there was some sort of scandal back in London, but I haven’t been able to ferret out what it was. But otherwise, why would they be staying here?”
Miss Bates nodded. “I tried having a nice chat with Mrs. Grangeway, but she would have none of it.”
Miss Emmaline went on. “And that by the piano trying to find something she can play is Miss Caldwell—you’ve probably heard of her father, Horatio Caldwell, and his mining company.” She nodded towards the two young women standing by the piano, both staring intently at the selection of sheet music provided by the hotel. The one holding the music had dark blonde hair and a slight figure and was wearing a very fashionable rose-colored silk dress. Her friend was slightly taller, with light brown hair and an equally fashionable sea green gown. Both were pretty in quite a normal way and would have fit in easily and naturally at any of the debutant balls in London or the better finishing schools on the Continent. “You’d think she could afford a better hotel than this, but I suppose we shouldn’t say that, should we? Particularly as we’re staying here. And with her is her chaperone, Miss Morrison. She claims to be her governess.”
I raised an eyebrow at that.
“So you noticed it too,” Miss Bates said. “She’d have to have been quite the prodigy to have learned enough to qualify as a governess for Miss Caldwell, wouldn’t you think?”
“And at a very young age,” I agreed. Miss Morrison seemed closer in age to a classmate of Miss Caldwell’s than a governess.
Miss Bates nodded. “I quite agree. Now, I believe that covers all of the other guests. Tell me about you and your cousin. American, I would guess from the accent?”
“That’s right. I’m a typist in London.” I gave the ladies a brief description of what I did, leaving out the dead bodies and adding only the barest mention of Scotland Yard as a place that sometimes sent me work. I was even more vague on Milly, mainly because most of what she did seemed to involve not-exactly-suitable men. Both ladies nodded frequently as I tried not to ramble. I was considering whether or not to tell them about some of my less startling cases when I noticed Milly had moved on from Mr. Fredrickson and Mr. Armstrong and was approaching Mr. Langley. Both Miss Bateses followed my gaze.
“I wouldn’t worry about Mr. Langley,” Miss Emmaline said.
“No,” Miss Bates agreed, “he’s rather harmless.”
“But I’m not certain Milly is. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m her chaperone on this trip.”
“Of course, dear.” Miss Emmaline patted my hand as I stood.
“And if you have need of another chaperone, we’re quite willing and experienced,” Miss Bates added.
“Thank you. It was a pleasure meeting you.” I hurried across the room to catch Milly’s arm.
“Cassie, what in the world?”
“I was just thinking that, as it’s our first evening here and we have nothing unpacked and we did leave in a rush, we really ought to go up to our room.”
“But I was...”
“You don’t want to be too tired in the morning to tour the city, do you?”
“I did want to go to the baths. You know Mr. Fellcroft said the hotel has its own right here on the property?”
In the hopes of getting away quickly, I decided against pointing out that I had been standing beside her when he’d shown them to us. “That’s very convenient.” I took her elbow and steered her towards the staircase. She didn’t protest.
As we were starting up the staircase, Milly asked, “What did you think of the spinsters?”
“The Misses Constance and Emmaline Bates. Miss Emmaline is the younger, and they were quite nice. They pointed everyone out to me.”
“Did they mention Mr. Langley?”
“They did.” I decided to leave out the bit about his legs. “Apparently, he’s employed by the hotel.”
“And Mr. Fredrickson?”
“Married,” I said to be certain she wouldn’t entertain any ideas in that direction. “The children are already in bed.”
“And Mr. Douglas?”
“They don’t think he’s what he claims to be.”
“That’s silly. He doesn’t claim to be anything. Oh well, at least you’ve found some friends.” Milly yawned. “Really, it was a good idea to go to bed so we’ll be fresh when we go to the baths.”
Vaguely, I wondered if Milly was trying to take credit for the idea, but I was distracted by the realization that, for all I’d learned about the other guests, I hadn’t learned a thing about the Misses Bates.