“You’re right.” He went down on one knee, oblivious to the people milling around us. “Lady Georgiana of Glen Garry and Rannoch, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
And I, who prided myself on never crying, cried for the second time in one evening.
“I can’t think of anything I want more,” I said.
Around us the crowd broke into applause, and as if on cue, the church bells began to ring.
Darcy took me into his arms. “Happy New Year,” he said and he kissed me.
Chapter 42
NEW YEAR’S DAY, JANUARY 1, 1934
Everyone is going home today. I wonder where I will go?
Queenie didn’t come in with her tray until after ten o’clock the next morning.
“That Mr. Darcy told me to let you sleep,” she said. “My, but he’s a bossy one, ain’t he? And they are saying you’re going to marry him. You really going to let him boss you around all your life?”
“Yes, I am, I suppose,” I said.
Downstairs there was an end-of-term feel, with guests exchanging addresses, promising to write and to come for a visit. The Upthorpes had been invited to America. Cherie and Monty were going to write to each other daily. Badger was going to stay with the Upthorpes. Even the dowager countess had melted a little and invited Colonel and Mrs. Rathbone to come to tea when they were all back in London.
“I don’t get much company these days,” she said. “I’d welcome a chat to share memories with old India hands.”
So all was well, except for poor Johnnie Protheroe and Mrs. Sechrest. I felt terribly sad about Johnnie. He was the sort of man one couldn’t help liking, in spite of his wicked ways. And I wondered if the fire would leave Mrs. Sechrest permanently disfigured. She had certainly lost a man she really cared about and life would never be the same for her.
Bunty came up to me after breakfast. “Just been for a brilliant ride with your intended,” she said. “You’re a lucky stick, you know. I’d always hoped . . . but I suppose cousins really shouldn’t marry, although they do it in royal circles all the time, don’t they?”
“That accounts for all the insanity.” I smiled. “Luckily my mother brought in an infusion of good common blood so my children should be all right.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you’re going to be my cousin. I asked Mummy if you could stay on here, after everyone else has gone. It’s dashed lonely and boring here. And Mummy said you’d be more than welcome, anytime.”
“That’s very kind of her. Actually, I don’t know what I’m going to do when I leave here. I’d like to stay, but I don’t want to be dependent on other people all the time. I want to make my own way in the world. Darcy and I won’t have the money to marry for ages and I want to do my part. Now I’ve been a social hostess once, maybe I’ll find a similar job somewhere. Without the bodies, that is.”
She nodded. “It was rather awful, wasn’t it? Poor Mummy, with her plans for the perfect English country Christmas. Who would ever have thought everything could go so horribly wrong?”
“Actually, everyone seems to have had a good time, in spite of everything,” I said. “I know I did. And the best thing is that those awful Robbins people didn’t succeed with their twelfth victim.”
“You’re right. And Mummy’s talking about getting up to say good-bye to everyone this morning. Daddy is trying to persuade her to stay in bed, but you know what she’s like when she puts her mind to something.”
“I suspect stubborn determination runs in the family,” I said, noticing Darcy coming across the foyer with a piece of paper in his hand and a frown on his face.
“I’ve just had a telegram,” he said, waving it at me. “I’m afraid I’m wanted back in London straight away. I may be going back to South America.”
“Is it going to be dangerous?” I asked, looking at him with concern.
He smiled. “I know how to take care of myself better than you do.”
“All the same,” I said, “I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“So do I, but I don’t have much choice.”
We stood looking at each other, our gaze not faltering, and so many unspoken things passing between us.
Bunty coughed. “Well, I’d better go and leave you lovebirds to the mushy stuff,” she said.
“How long will you be gone?” I asked, trying to sound bright and cheerful.
“I don’t know. Not too long, I hope.”
“I wish . . .” I began.
He stroked my cheek. “I know. I wish too. But we have something to look forward to now, don’t we? By hook or by crook I’m going to make enough money to set you up as Mrs. Darcy O’Mara in the style to which you’re accustomed.”
“Oh, please, no. Not another Castle Rannoch.” We both laughed and he slipped his arms around me. “I don’t want to make this official until I’ve spoken with my father,” he said, “so let’s keep it to ourselves, shall we?”
I nodded, trying hard to master a brave smile. He leaned toward me and his lips brushed mine. Then he stroked my cheek. “I’d better go and pack. Monty’s driving me to Exeter to catch the express.”
I watched him walk away, longing to call after him, to run after him, to beg him to take me with him. But I forced myself to behave as a lady should.
One by one the guests departed. Lady Hawse-Gorzley made an effort to come down and see them off. The doctor had told her to stay in bed, but she insisted on doing the right thing, as she put it. Stubbornness definitely did run in the family. When the car headed down the driveway for the last time she turned to me and took my arm to walk back up the steps and into the house. “I shouldn’t say this, but thank God they’ve gone,” she whispered. “It was a bit of an ordeal, wasn’t it?”
“But fun too,” I said. “I had a lovely Christmas in spite of everything. I think you did splendidly and gave them a perfect old English Christmas just like they wanted.”
She patted my hand. “Thank you, dear. Most kind of you. I did try hard. And between ourselves, I don’t think we actually made much of a profit, but we did eat and drink very well, didn’t we?” She closed the door behind us. “You know, when these deaths started happening, I kept asking myself whether I was being punished in some way for trying to make money out of a sacred holiday. And when I was shot, I really did ask myself if it was the Lovey Curse.”
I chuckled. “Don’t be silly. If anybody was the victim of the Lovey Curse it was the awful man who shot you. At least he and his wife got their just deserts, didn’t they?”
She nodded. “It’s hard to imagine someone could be so warped as to cleverly plot the deaths of twelve innocent people.”
“But speaking of the Lovey Curse,” I said, “I’d like to do something for Wild Sal—send her some clothes or food or something. She saved my life, you know.”
“She wouldn’t accept it, my dear. We have tried in the past and she rejects all help. She’ll probably go on living wild like that until she’s ninety.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll see her again, but do thank her for me when you see her,” I said. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see what my mother is doing. It would be just like her to up stakes and vanish without saying good-bye.”
“Of course, my dear. Off you go, then. Just a simple supper tonight. Thank God.”
I was just walking down the drive when I met Inspector Newcombe’s car coming toward me. The car stopped and he got out.
“Just the person I was coming to see,” he said. “You’re not off yet, are you?”
“I was just going to visit my mother and grandfather,” I said. “I’m not sure when they are leaving.”
“I’ve come to get an official statement about last night from you,” he said, “but I can interview Lady Hawse- Gorzley first. How are you feeling today after your ordeal?”
“Never felt better, thank you.”
“Whoever thinks that the aristocracy are useless and frail should take a look at you,” he said and chuckled. Then he looked at me, stroking his chin. “You had a lucky escape last night. Not many can say they’ve walked away from that bog. And it takes care of the pair of them nicely, doesn’t it? Saves us the trouble of hanging them.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak. The images were still too raw in my mind.
