Death at the Wedding Feast by Deryn Lake Page B

world. ‘Oh, how I am going to miss them as they grow older,’ he said with a deep sigh. ‘Elizabeth, could you not change your mind about coming to live in London?’
    She laughed humourlessly. ‘And give up this house and this glorious countryside? Never. But surely it would be easier for you to move to Devon?’
    â€˜In a way it would. But my life is in London. My shop is there and now my new business is taking off I would be loath to leave.’
    â€˜And there we have our situation in a nutshell. Both of us have our feet firmly planted in the place in which we feel comfortable. But why are you worried, John? You can come here regularly. You shall not miss the boys growing up.’
    â€˜I would rather be dead than do so. And what of you, sweetheart? Has the arrival of the twins filled the emptiness in your heart?’
    She turned to him and he held her close, both arms round her, smelling the glorious scent which she carried with her everywhere, unique to her and her alone.
    â€˜Yes, it has. They are the gift of my middle years. They shall have everything that it is in my power to give them.’
    â€˜But you’re not to spoil them.’
    â€˜That I will never do.’
    And he knew it was true. She had too much fire, too much strength to let her boys turn into idle wastrels. John’s thoughts went briefly to the scrapping pair in The Blackamore’s Head – George Beauvoir and Freddy Warwick – and thought what a couple of useless fellows they were, particularly George, whom the Apothecary considered to be extremely obnoxious.
    Elizabeth misread his silence. ‘You don’t believe me, do you? I can assure you that I will keep them under control.’
    Thinking of her first child, Frederico, and his terrible end, John decided that it was his duty to do all he could to assist in the bringing up of his twin sons. But the perfume of Elizabeth was in his nostrils and the delight of her was in his arms. So he did what any red-blooded man would do and kissed her warmly and lengthily, and temporarily forgot about everything else.
    The next day Sir Gabriel and Rose moved into Withycombe House. The first thing Rose did was rush to the nursery where she discovered James and Jasper awake, looking at her with their blue eyes which were already turning to a somewhat darker shade.
    â€˜Oh, you two imps,’ she said, as she leant over their cribs, ‘how I love you and how I shall always love you, even if you go far away from me.’
    â€˜Why? Are they thinking of leaving the country?’ asked Sir Gabriel, who had mounted the great staircase grandly with much use of his cane, which he had tied with two blue ribbons as a token of his esteem.
    She turned to her grandfather and winked. ‘Who knows?’ she said, giving him her special smile.
    Sir Gabriel did not believe in any such nonsense as second sight, but for all that he could not resist his granddaughter, whom he loved with all his heart. Now he put his hand in hers and let her lead him to the two cribs in which lay two identical babies. Sir Gabriel bent over them and one – he never knew which – stretched up a minute hand and pulled at his immense wig.
    â€˜Oh Jasper, how naughty,’ said Rose. ‘You must be more respectful to Grandfather.’
    â€˜How did you know that was Jasper?’ Sir Gabriel asked, astonished.
    â€˜I didn’t. But it worked, did it not?’
    And they both watched as the tiny fingers disentangled themselves from the horsehair and returned to lie peacefully on the blanket.
    Sir Gabriel shook his head. ‘What fine, fine boys. I never imagined such a thing possible.’
    â€˜Why was that, Grandpapa?’
    He looked a trifle embarrassed. ‘These matters should not be discussed in front of little girls.’
    â€˜I see,’ she said, and the very tone of her voice told him that she knew as much as he did about the whole affair.
    John