The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [22]
‘Shame should have kept you at a distance,’ Emerson shouted. ‘What an outrageous thing! You, a fellow professional, aiding and abetting –’
‘It was not his fault,’ the young lady cried, brandishing her umbrella. ‘He did his best to prevent me.’
‘Well, well,’ Emerson said, with surprising good humour. ‘I believe I understand. I presume the lunatic made good his escape?’
The young lady scowled. Her companion said timidly, ‘I saw no such person, Professor. It is very foggy.’
‘Emerson,’ I murmured, ‘that large man coming towards the house appears to be a constable.’
The argument would have had no effect on Emerson, but young Mr Wilson caught sight of the advancing form, its oilcloth coat glistening wetly in the lamplight, and with a muffled exclamation, he drew the young lady away. Emerson waved cheerfully at the constable, who had paused at the gate to examine us curiously, and we went into the house.
The entire household had gathered in the hall. Evelyn rushed to me. ‘Amelia, you are soaked to the skin. Had you not better change your wet clothing at once?’
‘Certainly,’ I replied, handing my parasol and my wrap to the butler. ‘I hope I am not too late for tea. A cup of the genial beverage would be just the thing.’
‘Wouldn’t you prefer a whiskey and soda?’ asked my brother-in-law, his eyes twinkling. Walter is the most amiable man; he seems always to be on the verge of laughter. I was about to refuse when I realized that there might be a lingering aroma about my person, from the last whiskey I had drunk; and that Emerson, in the course of our customary pre-dinner rituals, would be sure to detect its aroma, which would lead to questions I preferred to avoid.
‘What a splendid idea,’ I said. ‘I will just take a glass upstairs with me; it is a sovereign remedy for warding off a cold.’
Once we had reached the privacy of our rooms, I managed to take a sip of the whiskey before Emerson proceeded to do what I had expected he would. ‘At least wait until I remove my wet gown,’ I suggested. ‘You will have to change too; your shirt is already quite –’
‘Mmmmm,’ said Emerson, more precise articulation being at that moment beyond his powers. With the agility I had come to expect and admire, he assisted me to accomplish the suggested change without interrupting what he was doing for more than a few moments.
Much as I would have liked to continue, the sound of the dressing bell compelled me to remind Emerson we would be expected downstairs, and that prolonged delay might lead to speculation.
‘Humbug,’ Emerson replied lazily. ‘Walter and Evelyn never speculate, they are too well bred, and if they did, they could only approve. We are lawfully wedded, Peabody; in case that fact has slipped your mind, let me refresh your memory. Thus. And thus . . .’
‘Oh, Emerson. Now, Emerson . . . Oh, my dear Emerson!’
Unfortunately at that moment we heard a scratching at the door, and with a vehement comment Emerson bolted for the dressing room. Fortunately it was Rose, not one of the servants who were unfamiliar with our habits; she had learned, through painful experience (painful particularly to poor Emerson), never to enter a room without making her presence known.
‘The dressing bell has rung, ma’am,’ she murmured, through a tactfully narrow crack in the door.
‘I heard it. Come back in ten minutes, Rose.’
The door closed. Emerson emerged from the dressing room. He had assumed his trousers, but not his shirt, and the sight of his tanned and muscular body aroused the most remarkable of sensations and made me yearn to be home again in Kent, where cook was quite accustomed to putting dinner back an extra half hour on short notice.
However, the interruption had made him remember his grievances, and he was not slow to mention them.
‘How dare you leave this house without telling anyone?’ he demanded. ‘How dare you wander the streets of this city alone, unprotected –’
‘I had an errand,’ I replied calmly. ‘Your evening shirt is there, Emerson, on the chair.’
‘I hate dressing for dinner,’ Emerson grumbled. ‘Why must I? Walter and Evelyn