Nine Liars (Truly Devious, #5)(3)

Merryweather was before them. A sprawling creation of sand-colored stone, flat-fronted and hip-roofed, with a columned portico. Ivy and flowering vines crept up the house, an organic coat to soften the solidness of the building. A stone terrace wrapped around the house, lined with urns and statuary. A glass orangery jutted from the far side of the building, filled with potted trees. Out the front, a long apron of green rolled down to an ornamental pond with a folly. The rest of the grounds were quilted in a pattern of walled brick gardens and paths.

“It’s always absurd to me that this is your house,” Sooz said.

“Well, I’m an absurd person,” Sebastian replied. “Half of it is falling down anyway. We use the lesser staff to hold up the roof.”

The journey ended on the gravel drive, next to a garage on the side of the house. Rosie bolted from the car, walking off a few paces. Sooz and Sebastian got out to stretch and have a cigarette, while Theo and Yash set about unpacking the car.

“Rosie’s having a hard time of it,” Sebastian said quietly.

“Yes,” Sooz said, accepting a cigarette that was offered. “Also, did you see the way Yash elbowed Peter out of the way to ride with us?”

“Hard to miss. Do you think this will be the week one of them finally makes a move? It’s now or never. Maybe we need to take action. Lock them in the attic together.”

“I like that,” Sooz said, watching as Yash almost fell over himself trying to lift the heaviest of the bags, even though Theo was more than capable. “Too bad you don’t have a dungeon.”

“The dungeon is for my private use, darling. But perhaps I could make an exception for a good cause.”

“If Yash was busy shagging, he couldn’t be working.”

“Don’t bet on that,” Sebastian said. “Anyway, Peter would carry on. You know our ambitious boy can’t be stopped. He’d sit by the bedroom door with a notebook and write down any awkward sexual remarks Yash made.”

“Oh God. That could actually happen. They would turn it into a sketch.”

“Are you two planning on helping at any point?” Yash called out as he pulled Sooz’s suitcase from the car.

“No,” Sooz and Sebastian said in unison.

“Just checking,” Yash said, nodding.

The Golf pootled up and parked. Four more people extracted themselves from it, far more crushed and rumpled than the passengers of the commodious Volvo. Peter, who had been riding in the passenger seat with a map in case the group got lost, popped out, beating a happy rhythm on the roof of the car. Noel, the driver, unfolded himself from the driver’s seat. He placed another in an endless series of cigarettes between his lips, lit it, and stretched his arms above his head.

“Bloody hell,” he said. He didn’t elaborate. The remark might have been about the drive, the mansion and grounds spread out around them, or life in general.

Angela and Julian had to be released from the back seat, where they had been packed in with suitcases and assorted bags. Angela crawled out from the space, clinging to her bag, her clothes sweaty and wrinkled. Julian emerged from the other side, looking just as warm and sweat-glazed, but he wore sweat well and the warmth only loosed his gait. Nature had gifted him pool-water blue eyes, a tiny gap between his two front teeth that rendered every smile a heartwarming aw-shucks vibe, and an overall symmetry in every feature that resonated deeply and pleasingly with all who looked upon him. No amount of time crushed into the back of a Volkswagen under a pile of luggage diminished his appearance.

“We made good time,” Julian said. “It didn’t take that long.”

Angela, who had dropped down onto the gravel of the drive and was flapping her shirt to air out her chest, groaned in reply.

“Picture!” Sooz said. “Picture, now! We’ll do it here.”

There were several protests from the group, but Sooz waved them away.

“I want pictures of this whole week. Every moment. This is our arrival picture. Come on. Everyone over here.”

She motioned for her friends to come over to join her at the edge of the gravel drive, by a nondescript outbuilding.

“In front of the woodshed?” Sebastian asked. “Very scenic.”

“I can put the camera on the car if we do it here. Quick, before we lose all the light!”

While the others got into position, Sooz set the camera on the roof of the car and hit the timer button. She ran to get into frame. Once the photo was taken, they lugged their bags through the gate into the kitchen garden, down the outside passage that was built so that the servants could lug wood and coal and supplies without disturbing the tranquility of the back garden. Great estates are like Disney World—designed to look effortless, with the labor going on behind a bit of decoration. When they reached the back door, Sebastian unlocked it, admitting them to a capacious mudroom filled with wellies and rain slickers.

“Rooms, then game!” Sebastian shouted.

Yash dropped his bags first and took off running. The race for rooms was on. Angela, Peter, Julian, Sooz, and Theo ripped through the kitchen and the maze of small back rooms. Some took the back stairs, while others headed for the main hall. From there, they scrambled up the grand staircase, ignoring the looks from the Holt-Careys of the past, who stared at them from paintings on the wall. Merryweather had sixteen bedrooms—but some had four-posters, and others their own bathrooms. They were all good in their own way, but everything was a game and a competition, so they slid down the hallways, slipping on the highly polished wood, pressing each other good-naturedly out of the way to claim rooms they might not even have wanted.