The Austen Playbook (London Celebrities #4)(42)

A hint of an answering smile, that disappeared when he looked with cool politeness at the butler. “We lost track of time. In fact—” he turned the arm still holding Freddy to check his watch “—I have a couple more questions to ask Ms. Wanamaker, and then if she’d allow me to borrow some of her belongings here for a short time, we should be getting back.”

“You may find that difficult,” the butler said without expression. “The Littlebourne Fog has descended.”

Somehow, everything the man said gave Freddy the feeling that they ought to be enacting this scene in black-and-white, with a cello playing ominous notes in the background.

“What’s that?” she asked. “It sounds like a war helicopter.”

The butler was not amused. “The weather, miss. Several times a year, the fog comes from the direction of Littlebourne Copse and envelops this part of the country. It’s unusually thick, and driving conditions are always dangerous.”

Griff stalked over to the barred window, bent to look out, and swore.

“Is it heavy?” Freddy asked.

“Like trying to see through a wall of smoke. There was no mention of fog on the weather forecast.”

“Nobody ever predicts the Littlebourne Fog,” the butler said, with a hint of smugness.

When he’d gone, Freddy said, “I hope we’re not going to be delayed too long. Because I think the next scene in the film is where you go out to the car and come back to find me chained to a table in the basement.”

“Acting in a murder mystery is not having a good effect on you. I am going out to the car, to check exactly how dangerous these driving conditions are. If you’re not here when I come back, I’ll know where to look.”

As she listened to his footsteps going down the stairs, Freddy picked up Violet and Billy’s letters again, and reread the passage that was sticking in her mind the most. She was reading something into it that wasn’t there. It wasn’t really possible.

Was it?

That worm of disquiet was still wriggling in her stomach.

She jumped when Griff came back into the room a few minutes later, his face more thunderous than the summer storm outside.

“We’re going to be delayed longer than expected. The car won’t start.”

Freddy dragged her mind into the current problem. “Well—fix it, then.”

“I’ll just pull out my toolbox and magically do that, shall I?”

“You’ve been doing lots of DIY around the theatre.”

“Does that automatically mean I know how to fix a car?”

Oh. She’d trodden on the masculine ego. “Is there a mechanic around here?” She anticipated his response. “They wouldn’t be able to get here with the fog.” She blew out a breath. “Okay, so—we’ll have to wait it out?”

“Short of trying to walk home, and probably ending up in Birmingham, there don’t seem to be many other options.”

Freddy checked the time on her phone. It was already after five. “Wanda probably wants to have her dinner soon. That’s a bit awkward.” She frowned. There was a text from Akiko. A delicately worded, horror-struck message about Sabrina and Ferren. She’d have to send through the latest update on that situation soon, since it looked like Ferren was about to enter from stage left. Like the villain in panto.

Hiss, boo.

“What’s wrong?” For someone she’d once thought had the sensitivity of a concrete block, Griff was rapidly becoming skilful at reading her.

“My older sister is back with her ex, and her friends aren’t happy about it. Neither am I.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s Joe Ferren,” she said wryly, and Griff lifted his brows.

“Hasn’t he—”

“Just signed on to render Mr. Knightley completely unattractive to me forever more? Yes. Are we going to be living under the same roof? Yes. Is this summer turning out to be nothing like what I expected? Yes again.” Freddy shook her head. “Never mind. One problem at a time. I suppose we’d better go and update Wanda on—”

“I’ve already told her. She was hovering in the driveway and pounced the moment I appeared.”

“James tells me that your car won’t start.” Wanda sailed into the room then, and hopefully didn’t hear that derisive remark. For a second, Freddy had no idea who James was. She kept forgetting Griff’s real name. “The local man at the garage is a conman, but he can probably fix it. You won’t get him out here until the weather clears, though. Life comes to a standstill around here during the fog. You’ll have to stay the night.”

Griff did a much better job at concealing his reaction than Freddy did.

She wiped the dismay from her face when Wanda turned back in her direction.

“I hope you’re not on one of these fad diets,” Wanda said with a beady look at Freddy’s midsection. Freddy immediately felt like she had a waistline the approximate circumference of the Gherkin. “Arthur is making a roast dinner.”

Finally, their butler friend had a name, Freddy supposed, since the only other living body she’d seen in the house was the parrot in the conservatory. She doubted it was downstairs making gravy. “We’re so sorry about this. But we don’t want to put you out. We’ll just—”