“Yes, you had. And I’m looking forward to it, but I’m not sure what I’ll be doing on Saturday and Sunday.” (I can’t use the word “weekend,” even in moments of stress.) “My brother is in town, you know. I may have family matters to attend to.”

“Your brother? I don’t believe I’ve met him.”

“You probably wouldn’t have. He’s my half brother, actually, and he would have been away at school when I came to stay with my mother at Sir Hubert’s.”

“Where did he go to school?”

“Gairlachan. That formidable place in the Highlands.”

“With the cross-country runs and cold showers at dawn? Just like the Spartan boys. The weak die and the strong become empire builders.”

“That’s the one.”

“Sir Hubert threatened to send me there if I didn’t pull my socks up, but he settled for Downside instead, since Mama was a Catholic and he wanted to honor her wishes. I must say I was relieved. Those monks like their creature comforts.”

“That’s where you were at school with Darcy?”

“O’Mara, you mean?” His face clouded. “Yes, he was a couple of years above me but we were in the same house.” He leaned closer to me, even though we were the only two people on a deserted pavement. “Look, Georgie, I meant what I said the other day. He’s a bad egg, you know. Untrustworthy, just like a typical Irishman. Shake hands and then stab you in the back as soon as you turn away.” He paused and looked at me. “You’re not—er, involved with him, are you?”

“He’s just a casual acquaintance,” I said, half wanting to lie and watch Tristram’s face when I said that we were lovers. “We met at a hunt ball, apparently, and then at that wedding. That is the sum total of our acquaintanceship.” I didn’t mention the unsettling little scene in the Featherstonehaughs’ bedroom.

Relief flooded his boyish features. “That’s good, only I wouldn’t like to see a nice girl like you ending up with her heart broken, or worse.”

“Thank you, but I have no intention of anybody breaking my heart,” I said, my hand already itching to close that front door. “I must go now, Tristram. Please excuse me.”

“So may I see you again soon? Maybe I could take you to lunch somewhere? Nothing too fancy, I’m afraid, but I know some good cheap Italian places. You know, spaghetti Bolognese and a glass of red plonk for one and sixpence.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry about today, but I really must go. Now.” With that I turned and fled into the house. Once I’d closed the door, I stood for some time, leaning against the solid coldness of the oak while my heart regained its normal pace.

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Rannoch House
Friday, April 29, 1932