Chapters (40)
- Cover
- BERKLEY PRIME CRIME TITLES BY RHYS BOWEN
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Historical Note
I needed no urging to try some. I was just finishing a second slice when I heard the telephone ringing in the hallway, then Hamilton’s soft Scottish voice. “Rannoch House. The butler speaking.” Then I heard him say, “I will fetch her right away, sir.”
I was on my feet as he came into the room. “A telephone call for you, my lady,” he said.
I tried to walk in a civilized manner, rather than sprint to the telephone. My hand was shaking as I picked up the mouthpiece. “Hello?”
“Georgie, it’s me,” he said.
“Darcy? I’m so glad to hear your voice. I’ve been waiting and worrying. What news? What have you found out? Is it going to be all right?”
“Georgie, be quiet and listen to me,” Darcy said. “I’m afraid all the news is bad. It is quite obvious to me that my father is guilty. There will be an awful trial and he’ll probably be hanged.”
“Darcy, how terrible for you,” I started to say but he interrupted me.
“I’ve thought long and hard about this, but I’ve come to the painful conclusion that you and I should have no more to do with each other. I will not have your life blighted the way mine will be. So I’m breaking our engagement, Georgie. I will not be contacting you again, and you should not try to contact me.”
“No!” I shouted and the word echoed up the high stairwell. “I don’t accept that. I love you, Darcy. For better or worse, remember? I’ll stick with you, no matter what.”
His voice still sounded completely calm, as if he was talking to me about the weather. “It’s because I love you that I’m doing this. Luckily we are not already married so I don’t have to weigh up the better-or-worse aspect. I only want the better for you. I will not put you through hell and that is final. Good-bye, my darling. I wish you only happiness.”
“No, Darcy. Don’t go. This is stupid. I love you. I won’t let you go.” I was shouting now, which a lady is not supposed to do. And crying too.
“Good-bye, Georgie.” There was a click and the telephone line went dead.
Chapter 9
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1
RANNOCH HOUSE, LONDON.
The worst day of my whole life.
I stood there in the cold hallway with tears trickling down my cheeks.
“No,” I said again, to nobody this time.