Death at the Wedding Feast by Deryn Lake Page A

courteously, his most graceful bow of all being saved for the Honourable Miranda who regarded him with a glittering cat’s eye.
    â€˜And how was London, Mr Rawlings?’ she said, raising her hand to her chin in a delicate gesture.
    â€˜The same,’ he replied cheerfully. ‘Still full of whores, beggars and thieves. Not very different from anywhere else actually.’
    â€˜Oh fie,’ Miranda answered, ‘surely that could not be said of Exeter?’
    â€˜I think it could be said of any metropolis in the world,’ John answered, taking his seat on the Marchesa’s right.
    â€˜You have travelled widely?’ asked Miranda, knowing full well that he had never left the country.
    â€˜Unfortunately my Grand Tour was disturbed by the war but I have met many people who have had experience of living abroad. One in particular was Sir Francis Dashwood. You have heard of him perhaps?’
    â€˜No,’ said Miranda, lying.
    â€˜Well, I have,’ put in Felicity. ‘He’s a notorious rake and ne’er-do-well, I believe.’
    â€˜Remember you are speaking of a peer of the realm,’ Miranda rejoined sharply.
    â€˜I am only telling the truth.’
    â€˜Oh pooh,’ said Miranda.
    The two girls were glaring at one another, and to break the awkward silence that fell Elizabeth said, ‘The twins are very well, John.’
    He was profuse in his apologies. ‘I am so sorry I didn’t ask. But I thought somehow they would be. With a mother like you how could they be anything else?’
    â€˜How sweetly put,’ said Miranda, dripping honey. ‘Montague and I hope to have several children.’
    â€˜You’ll be lucky,’ Felicity answered spitefully.
    â€˜That’s all you know.’
    â€˜Ladies, please,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I do not think the dinner table a suitable place for such a conversation. Let us reserve it for when we are in private.’
    Miranda shot a look in John’s direction and said, ‘Of course. How remiss of me. Gentlemen present and all that.’
    â€˜Yes,’ John answered. ‘I am very much present and intend to remain so for some while. When are you getting married, Miss Tremayne?’
    â€˜In six weeks’ time. The invitations are about to be sent out.’
    â€˜I shall look forward to receiving mine.’ This from Elizabeth.
    â€˜Before then we are giving a betrothal party. Everyone will be there. You must come, Marchesa. And you too, Mr Rawlings.’
    For the first time since the Apothecary had arrived, Miranda said something without a sarcastic undertone. Indeed she momentarily looked like an excited child as she glanced from one to the other, her eyes on fire with excitement.
    â€˜I must go to the manteau makers in Exeter,’ Elizabeth said promptly. ‘I have nothing to wear at all.’
    John glanced at her, noting her figure, which was rapidly restoring itself to its pre-pregnancy suppleness. ‘Well I have brought a great trunk packed with clothes for both day and night,’ he said. ‘I am sure something will be suitable.’
    Elizabeth looked at him, smiling. ‘So you’ve come in your own coach? In other words, Rose has accompanied you.’
    â€˜Yes,’ he said, ‘and also Sir Gabriel Kent, who is very old now and was so anxious to know the twins.’
    â€˜How lovely,’ she answered. ‘It will be a pleasure to see him again.’ She smiled round at the others. ‘You really must meet Rose, John’s little girl. She is quite adorable.’
    â€˜Just like her father,’ said Miranda, and once more her eyes were full of sarcasm.
    After the two visitors had left, John and Elizabeth withdrew to the Blue Drawing Room for a few moments, then crept up to the nursery. The Apothecary felt as if his heart would shatter as he looked at the two small faces, fast asleep, so innocent, yet to learn the wicked ways of the weary