A Marvellous Light (The Last Binding #1)(45)

“Not my girl any longer,” said Billy to his water glass.

“Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten.”

Bollocks you had, thought Edwin, watching Trudie’s sharp smile.

“I’m sorry to hear that, William,” said Edwin’s mother.

“Power’s the thing, isn’t it?” Billy shrugged. With his shoulders curled in he looked smaller than usual. “My family’s not got the pedigree that hers does, apparently. Her grandfather’s got his heart set on some toff from the colonies for her. Made her break off the engagement. Not much a chap can do but bow out gracefully, is there?”

“Rotten luck,” said Robin sincerely. “We should take your mind off it. Tell me more about what Edwin and I have been missing, toiling away in the library. Is there much to see around these parts? Any hills with a view worth the climb?”

“We went up Parson’s Mount today—that’s not bad,” said Bel. “I suppose there’s a handful of ruins around, if you like boring old stones.”

“It’s not the best time of year for it, but there are some estates with famously good gardens, if you go further afield,” said Florence Courcey. “Audley End, and that abbey with the walled garden—oh, and Sutton Cottage. The grounds there are really sublime, they say, though I’ve not seen them myself.”

“The Sutton hedge maze is supposed to be a grand puzzle,” said Bel. “Not as large as Hampton Court, but not far off it. We should make a day trip of it, Trudie, don’t you think? Perhaps in the spring.”

“Sutton Cottage,” said Robin. “Mrs. Flora Sutton? Edwin, wasn’t she the one writing to Gatling? I could have sworn that was the address.”

It took Edwin a few moments to remember the rose-scented letter in Reggie’s pile of correspondence. “I can’t recall.”

“Well, that’s only natural,” said Edwin’s mother. “Flora Sutton? Yes, she was a Gatling, before she married. She’d be Reginald’s great-aunt. The Suttons have no children of their own, I believe, so—” She gave a couple of dry coughs. Some of her faint, sparkling energy seemed to leave her with them.

“Mother, are you sure you’re feeling well?” asked Edwin. “Do you want to retire?”

“Nonsense, darling. I’m sure I can remain upright at least until the end of dinner.” She turned, chin high, and struck up a bright conversation with Trudie about hats.

Robin caught Edwin with a touch on the shoulder as the dining room was emptying. “Sutton Cottage is worth a visit, don’t you think?” said Robin. “It’s not as though the bushes are crawling with possible leads, when it comes to Gatling’s vanishing act. And—hedge maze,” he added, nonsensically. “It doesn’t seem like something we should ignore.”

“Hedge—oh.” One of Robin’s visions. Edwin said slowly, “You’ll be expected at the office tomorrow. And back home, I’d imagine.”

“I’ll send a telegram home. And one to Miss Morrissey—I say, we should ask her to post that letter from Reggie’s aunt here too. I wish I’d opened the thing now.”

Edwin tried to shake off the warmth summoned by that we. “You want to stay on? It’s not going to get any quieter, I’m afraid.” For all Robin’s talk of Saturday-to-Mondays and magical jobs, Bel’s set were not overly burdened with employment. Edwin had no idea when they planned to quit Penhallick. Possibly when they got bored.

Belatedly Edwin remembered that quiet was not an advantage, to someone like Robin. But Robin just grinned at him and said, “Then we’ll go day-tripping, and avoid the fuss,” as though the prospect of chasing down Reggie Gatling’s dubious relatives with Edwin was honestly appealing.

Like Robin with the pain from the curse, Edwin had hoped he was becoming immune to that grin, when in fact the opposite was true. A hot, greedy pulse of want tried to make itself known in Edwin’s intractable body.

No. Edwin pushed it down and focused instead on the guilt that had sprung up when Reggie’s name was first mentioned. Reggie, who was still missing; Miss Morrissey would have sent a message to tell them if he’d resurfaced. Edwin had been distracted by the more immediate danger of Robin’s worsening curse. But it was all part of the same damned mess, wasn’t it? The thought cooled the breath in Edwin’s lungs to a thickening mist of real fear about Reggie’s fate.

Not least because Robin’s attackers might very well intend Robin to share it.



Robin dashed off a message for Maud immediately after dinner, and left it folded on the dresser in his room. He and Edwin could call at the telegraph office in the nearest town before they set off for Sutton Cottage the next morning.

Mrs. Courcey had confided to him over the dessert course that she hoped they could have a telephone installed within the next few years. Robin imagined such a thing could make a world of difference to a housebound invalid. He thought about the way Edwin looked at her, as though storing up grain for winter. Edwin saying, It’s better in the city. Robin was only now realising how much Edwin must dislike everything else about being at Penhallick, for it to trump even his beloved mother’s presence.

Guidelight bobbing above his shoulder, Robin followed a footman’s directions to a large parlour, where the others were gathered for drinks and cigarettes and, from what Belinda had been saying at dinner, some new sort of game. Robin’s afternoon doze had left his mind grumblingly awake. He didn’t fancy groaning his way through another bout of the curse’s punishment in company, but even less did he fancy retiring early to the willow-bough room and staring at its ceiling. He liked being with other people. Too much time alone and he felt his colour leaking out.