stare.
'You don't approve of Lord Arthur?'
'He's weak. I despise weakness. You have to be strong in this world or it'll
grind you under.'
'We can't all be strong,' said Fisher.
Marc smiled coldly. 'You don't have to be. You're beautiful. There will always
be someone ready to be strong for you.'
He turned away, ignoring Hawk's glare, and went to stare out the wide window at
the morning sunlight.
'Take it easy,' said Fisher amusedly to Hawk. 'We're supposed to be brother and
sister, remember?'
'So I'm a very protective brother. Watch yourself with that one, Isobel. I don't
trust him.'
'I don't trust any of them, but I take your point. Don't worry; I know how to
handle his sort.'
Hawk looked at her quickly. 'We're Quality now; if there's to be any rough
stuff, I'll take care of it. You concentrate on being demure and ladylike.'
Fisher raised an eyebrow, and Hawk had to smile. 'Or at least as close as you
can get.'
Fisher gestured surreptitiously, and Hawk fell silent as Katrina Dorimant came
over to join them. She nodded briefly to Fisher and then unleashed the full
force of her smile on Hawk. It was a warm, intimate smile, suffused with
promise, backed up by dark and unsettlingly direct eyes. Hawk smiled
uncomfortably back, unconsciously standing a little taller and sucking in his
gut. If Isobel hadn't been there he might have just relaxed and enjoyed it, but
as it was… He glanced at Isobel and was relieved to find she was smiling,
apparently amused at his discomfort. Hawk decided he'd better play this very
carefully. On the one hand, he couldn't afford to antagonize his host's Aunt,
but on the other hand, if Isobel stopped finding this funny long enough to get
jealous… Hawk winced inwardly.
'I'm so glad you're here, Richard,' said Katrina smoothly.
'Really?' said Hawk, his voice nowhere near as even as he would have liked.
'Oh yes,' said Katrina. 'I was starting to think I'd have to spend this weekend
all alone. I do so hate to be alone.'
'There are other guests here,' Fisher pointed out.
Katrina shrugged, without taking her eyes off Hawk. 'Alistair's too old,
Arthur's too fat, David only has eyes for Holly, and Marc gives me the creeps. I
don't like the way he looks at me. I'd begun to despair, until you arrived,
Richard.'
'I understand you're… separated from your husband,' said Hawk, out of a feeling
he ought to be contributing something to the conversation.
'That's right. My husband's Graham Dorimant, a sort of somebody in local
politics. We're going to be divorced as soon as I can get the goods on him.'
Hawk felt a strong inclination to turn and beat his head against the nearest
wall. Was this case going to be nothing but one complication after another? Not
only did he have to worry about Arthur Sinclair recognizing him, but now the
woman who was making eyes at him turned out to be the estranged wife of someone
else who knew him. Hawk and Fisher had met Graham Dorimant on a previous case,
not all that long ago. If by some chance Graham had discussed that case with
Katrina… A sudden thought sobered Hawk like a rush of cold water. Hawk and
Fisher had made a great impression on Graham Dorimant. It could be that he'd
described the two Guards he'd met fully enough for Katrina to recognize them
even through their disguises. And if she had, what better way to distract them
than by making a play for Hawk? But that assumed she had a reason for
distracting them, which meant…
The door opened, and Greaves entered to announce that breakfast would be served
shortly in the dining room. As everyone present moved towards the door, Katrina
quickly latched onto Hawk's arm.
'It is good of you to escort me into breakfast, Richard. You will sit with me,
won't you?'
'I ought really to sit with my sister,' said Hawk, knowing how feeble it sounded
even as he said it.
'Oh, don't mind me,' said Fisher promptly. 'You enjoy yourself, Richard.'
Hawk gave her a hard look.
'Breakfast won't be much, I'm afraid,' said Katrina chummily as they moved out
into the corridor. 'Cook left two days ago, along with what was left of the
kitchen staff. But Greaves and Robbie Brennan have been managing between them
until the new staff arrive.'
Hawk looked at her sharply. 'I thought you couldn't get servants to stay here,
because of the sightings?'
Katrina laughed. 'This is Haven, Richard. Money can buy anything here. They
won't be top-notch staff, of course, but they'll do. Until we can sort this mess
out. Now, what was I saying? Oh yes; breakfast. Cold collation, I'm afraid, but
I suppose I shouldn't complain. It's very good for the figure, and I have been
putting on a little weight recently.'
She glanced coquettishly at Hawk, obviously expecting some chivalrous denial. He
was still trying to come up with an answer that was both polite and noncommittal
when they reached the dining room, at the end of the long, twisting corridor.
The room was grand in design, if not in scale, most of it taken up by the single
great table, which looked as though it could easily seat thirty, and another
dozen or so if everyone was feeling chummy. A magnificent white tablecloth lay
half hidden under the glistening silver service and three blazing candelabra.
Everyone took seats at one end of the table with a minimum of fuss, and Hawk
ended up with Katrina on one side and Fisher on the other. Arthur Sinclair was
sitting opposite him, and Hawk's heart missed a beat as that gentleman suddenly
leaned forward and addressed him.
'Tell me… Richard?'
'Yes.'
'Yes, Richard… something I've been meaning to ask you. Why is your hair black
and your sister's yellow?'
'Mother was frightened by an albatross,' said Hawk solemnly.
Lord Arthur blinked at him, nodded, and returned his attention to his wineglass.
Hawk looked at the setting in front of him and panicked briefly as he found he
didn't even recognize some of the more sophisticated cutlery. Start at the
outside and work inwards, he told himself firmly, reaching for the outer knife
and fork. It's got prongs on it; it's got to be a fork… Greaves and Robbie
Brennan appeared through the swinging service door, carrying trays of cold meats
and artfully arranged raw vegetables.
'When you're ready, Greaves, do you think you could do something about the
