Death at Dawn - Caro Peacock [120]
Celia was standing at a short distance, apparently listening to something Betty was saying, but her eyes were on Stephen and me. I wondered if they’d discussed their grandmother’s death and if he knew it hadn’t been from heart failure.
‘I sense that she’ll need your friendship more than ever, Miss Lock. We’re both grateful to you.’
I mumbled something, thinking how little gratitude he’d be feeling towards me in a few hours’ time, when he found his sister gone. More than ever, I felt guilty about what I was doing. He thanked me again and walked away. Celia was at my side in an instant.
‘What were you talking about?’
‘Your grandmother.’
‘Thank goodness for that. You both looked so serious I was terrified you’d told him about tonight. Feel my heart thumping.’ She picked up my right hand and laid it on the pulse in her wrist. It was twitching like something imprisoned. ‘Oh, Elizabeth, I am so scared.’
‘I’m scared too,’ I said. ‘By the by, my name isn’t Elizabeth. It’s Libby, for Liberty.’
I thought I would never see her again after that night and somehow it mattered to say it, although I was not sure that she heard me. She took my hand in hers, hiding it in the folds of her dress, pretending to point out a flower with her other hand.
‘I think Stephen guesses something’s happening,’ she said.
‘Yes, I think my brother would have guessed if I were going away.’
‘But he mustn’t know. He really mustn’t know. Don’t try to persuade me again because it’s no use.’
Her hand was crushing mine.
‘Very well.’
‘I can feel your heart thumping too. It’s good of you to be so scared for my sake.’
I didn’t tell her that I had worse things than an elopement to be scared about.
‘I shall leave the ball after the first set,’ she said. ‘Then I’ll go upstairs and change into travelling clothes. I’ve given Fanny the evening off to watch the dancing. Will you wait for me in my room?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve written a letter to my mother. It’s on the dressing table. Please make sure she gets it tomorrow morning when … when I’m gone.’
Tomorrow morning seemed a world away, but I promised.
‘I shall see you again, one day. If I can ever help you in any way, I shall. I promise, Elizabeth.’
(So she hadn’t heard me.) I thanked her, sensing there was still something she wanted to say to me. But her next words were an exclamation.
‘Oh, confound the man!’
She was looking at somebody over my shoulder.
‘What man?’
‘One of the guests. I don’t even know his name. He was watching us from the terrace when I began talking to you and now he’s coming down the steps. I’m in no mood for talking silly politenesses to people.’
She raised her grey parasol and walked quickly away. I turned to look for Betty and the children and saw the man she meant. He was walking rapidly between the hedges as if determined to catch up with her. Today he was elegant in carefully chosen graduations of grey, his jewellery restricted to a couple of rings and a gold seal on a chain round his neck. His ringlets gleamed and bounced in the sun but his expression was stern. He strode up to me.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Disraeli,’ I said. ‘I’m afraid you’ve just missed Miss Mandeville.’
‘I wasn’t looking for Miss Mandeville. I was looking for you, Miss Lock.’
His eyes were cold and challenging. I gave him look for look.
In spite of his sternness, the strange feeling of fellowship I’d felt for him at dinner as another adventurer adrift, flared again. Seeing me in close conversation with Celia would have increased the impression I’d given him that I was a friend of the family, but I saw no obligation to correct it.
‘And now that you’ve found me …?’
‘Now I’ve found you, I hope we can continue the conversation we were having at dinner, when you fled so precipitately.’
‘As you please.’
‘Miss Lock, I asked you if you knew why we’d all been invited here. You didn’t answer me. I don’t take you for a fool, and I assure you that I am not one myself.’
‘I’m grateful for your good opinion.’
I tried to speak coolly but sensed an anger in him, reined in by a dandy’s