For, deep within him, concealed by a civilized veneer of good manners, burnt a smouldering rage and resentment against this man, this American, who appeared to have taken over while Edmund's back was turned, rekindled Virginia's remembered youth, and was now calmly planning to fly back to the States with her-Edmund's wife-in tow. Smiling politely into Conrad Tucker's open face, Edmund toyed with the lovely idea of balling his fist and smashing it into that craggy and sun-tanned nose. Imagining the consequent mayhem, the blood and the bruising, filled him with shameful relish.
And yet, on the other hand he knew that, under different circumstances, this was the sort of person that it would be perfectly possible to like instantly.
Conrad Tucker's friendly expression mirrored Edmund's own. 'How very nice to meet you.' Damn his eyes.
Archie was headed for the tray of bottles.
'Edmund. A small whisky?'
'Thank you. I could do with one.'
His host reached for The Famous Grouse. 'When did you get back from New York?'
'About five-thirty.'
Conrad asked, 'Did you have a good trip?'
'More or less. A bit of trouble-shooting, a few well-chosen words. I believe you're an old friend of my wife's?'
If he had hoped to throw the other man off-balance, he did not succeed. Conrad Tucker gave nothing away, showed no discomfiture.
'That's right. We were dancing partners in our long-ago and misspent youth.'
'She tells me you're travelling back to the States together.'
Still no reaction. If the American guessed that he was being needled, he betrayed no sign. 'She got a seat on that plane?' was all that he said.
'Apparently so.' *
'I hadn't heard. But that'll be great. It's a long trip on your own. I'll be going to the city straight from Kennedy, but I can see her through immigration and baggage claim, and then be certain that she has transportation to Leesport.'
'That's more than kind of you.'
Archie handed Edmund his drink. 'Conrad, I didn't know you'd planned all this. I didn't even know Virginia was thinking of going to the States…'
'She' s going to visit her grandparents.'
'And when are
'I'm staying here until Sunday, if that's all right by you, and then flying out of Heathrow on Thursday. I need a day or two in London to see to some business.'
'How long have you been in this country?' Edmund asked him.
'A couple of months.'
'I hope you've enjoyed your visit.'
'Thank you. I've had a fine time.'
'I'm glad.' Edmund raised his glass. 'Cheers.'
At this point they were interrupted by the appearance of Jeff Howland who, having finally solved the problem of the bow-tie, had completed his dressing and come downstairs. He obviously felt ill at ease and self-conscious in his unaccustomed gear, and his face wore a faintly abashed expression as he walked into the room, but indeed he looked more than presentable in the outfit that he and Lucilla had gleaned from Edmund's wardrobe. Edmund was amused to see that Jeff had picked out a cream hopsack jacket, purchased in a moment of crisis in Hong Kong. It had proved to be a mistaken buy, for Edmund had worn it only once.
'Jeff.'
The young man craned his neck and ran a finger around the restricting collar of the starched evening shirt. He said, 'I'm not used to this sort of thing. I feel a real berk.'
'You look splendid. Come and have a drink. We're onto the whisky before the women turn up and demand champagne.'
Jeff relaxed a little. He was always happier in purely masculine company. 'There wouldn't be a can of Foster's?'
'There most certainly would. On the tray. Help yourself.'
Jeff relaxed a bit more, reached for the can, poured the long glass. He said to Edmund, 'It was good of you to kit me out. I'm grateful.'
'A pleasure. The jacket is perfect. Dressy, but with just the right touch of outback informality.'
'That's what Lucilla said.'
'She was quite right. And you look a great deal better in it than I did. Wearing it, I resembled an elderly barman… the useless variety that doesn't even know how to fix a dry Martini.'
Jeff smiled, took a heartening swallow, and then looked about him. 'Where are all the girls?'
'Good question,' said Archie. 'God knows.' He had settled himself once more on the fender, seeing no reason to stand about for a moment longer than he had to. 'Buttoning themselves into their evening gowns, I suppose. Lucilla was searching for underclothes, Pandora decided to go to bed, and Isobel's in a state of panic about her evening shoes.' He turned to Edmund. 'But you said that you had dramas. What's been happening at Balnaid?'
Edmund told him.
'Our phone's on the blink, which is one thing. We can make calls, but nobody can get through to us. However, it's been reported, and some guy's coming to see to it tomorrow morning. And that's the least of our worries. Edie turned up out of the blue, with her nightie in a bag, and the news that Lottie Carstairs is on the loose again. She walked out of the Relkirk Royal and hasn't been seen since.'
Archie shook his head in exasperation. 'That bloody woman is more trouble than a bitch in heat. When did this happen?'
'I don't know. Sometime this afternoon, I suppose. The doctor rang Vi to let her know. Then Vi tried to ring me, but couldn't get through. So she called Edie, and proceeded to order her out of her cottage for the night, and come to us. Which is what Edie has done.'
'Vi surely doesn't think that lunatic is dangerous?'
'I don't know. Personally, I think she's capable of almost anything, and if Vi hadn't told Edie to come to Balnaid, then I should have done so myself. Anyway, Alexa will leave her bolted in with the dogs for company. But as you can imagine, it's all taken a bit of time.',
'No matter.' Archie, with domestic problems dealt with, changed the subject to more absorbing and important matters. 'We missed you yesterday, Edmund. We had a great day. Thirty-three and a half brace, and the birds flying like the wind…'
Violet was the last to arrive. She knew that she was the last, because as she drew up on the gravel sweep in front of Croy, she saw five other vehicles already parked there. Archie's Land Rover, Isobel's minibus, Edmund's BMW, Pandora's Mercedes, and Noel's Volkswagen. A bit, she decided, like the car-park at a Point-to-Point, and an awful lot of traffic for just two families.
She got out of her car, bundled her long skirts up out of the damp, and made for the front door. As she went up the steps, this was opened, and she saw that Edmund waited for her, standing in the bright light of the hall. With his silver hair, and wearing kilt, doublet, and diced hose, he looked even more distinguished than usual, and despite all her dratted anxieties, Violet found time to experience a dart of motherly pride, and the relief of having him actually around again filled her with gratitude. 'Oh, Edmund.'
'I heard your car.' He gave her a kiss.
'What a time I've had.' She went indoors, he closed the door behind her, and came to help her off with her fur coat. 'Your telephone. It's not working…'
'It's all right, Vi. All under control. It's being fixed tomorrow morning…'
He laid the coat on a chair while Vi shook out her ample velvet skirts and readjusted the lace frill at her shoulders. 'Thank heavens for that. And my darling Edie? She's at Balnaid?'
'Yes. Safe and sound. You look trachled. Stop worrying now, or you're not going to enjoy yourself.'
'It's impossible not to. That wretched Lottie. Just one thing after another. But you're home and safe, and that's all that matters. I am dreadfully late, aren't I?'
