Read Online The Second Time I Saw You: The Oxford Blue Series #2 by Pippa Croft - Free Book Online
Authors: Pippa Croft
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Four
The chandelier has been lit in the ballroom, making it seem darker outside than it actually is. The fire still glows in the hearth but it’s growing chilly despite the heating. Our voices echo because almost all of the mourners have gone. A few closer relatives lingered after I got back with Emma but they’ve gone too. Finally, the room is almost empty and we’re standing by the door, as Alexander kisses Aunt Celia goodbye and almost passes out from her floral fragrance. A few of the catering staff bustle about collecting glasses and plates.
After smiling politely during countless glances and remarks about Americans, I suddenly feel tired, and Emma’s ‘secret’ is an added burden I never asked for. I know Alexander would hit the roof if he found out and that kind of news is the last thing he needs now. Fingers crossed, Emma will get bored with Henry Favell, or he’ll think better of chasing her. I just hope she doesn’t get hurt too badly.
Rupert approaches, knocking back the remains of his whisky.
‘I’m off, then.’ He embraces Alexander in a way I’ve never seen him do before, which makes me suspect it’s for my benefit. ‘If you need me, you know where I am.’
‘Thanks.’ Alexander’s eyes seem a little glazed.
Rupert turns to me, ultra polite. ‘Can I give you a lift anywhere, Lauren?’
‘Thank you so much for the offer, Rupert, but I’ll take care of myself.’
‘She’s shtaying.’ Alexander slings his arm around my back and hugs me to his side. ‘Aren’t you, Lauren?’
I smile at Rupert. ‘If you want me to.’
Alexander glances down at me, puzzlement in his eyes, although that could, of course, be the whisky. ‘Of coursh I do.’
‘In that case,’ says Rupert, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves, ‘I’ll leave you to console each other.’
What a toad he is. Who else would use a funeral to score points off his own cousin, who’s supposedly his ‘best’ friend too? Alexander, however, is wrapped in a fug of Lagavulin and hasn’t noticed the irony in Rupert’s remarks. Actually, in his state, I don’t think Alexander would notice irony if it hit him over the head.
‘Robert will show you out …’ he says, tightening his arm around my back. I think he needs the support.
‘There’s no need. I think I know my way out of Falconbury by now.’
As Alexander turns away to pick up his glass, Rupert shoots me a glance of pure venom that makes me shiver inside, but I smile sweetly and give him a little wave. ‘Goodnight. Have a safe journey, Rupes.’
A few hours later, Emma has gone to her room and Alexander slumps in the deep buttoned armchair in the library, staring into the embers of the fire. His black tie is unknotted and the top button of his shirt is open. I’ve been curled up in the chair next to him, trying to catch up on some reading for college. No one wanted dinner in the dining room, so the staff brought a tray of buffet leftovers into the library. I was starving but Alexander hardly touched anything, preferring his whisky.
The door creaks as Robert enters and places a tray with a fresh bottle of whisky, a jug and two glasses on the table between our chairs. ‘I brought some water too …’ he says, eyeing Alexander apprehensively. ‘Can I get you anything else, sir? Some more food? Helen could make you an omelette or a fresh sandwich? What about some coffee?’
‘Coffee? What would I want coffee for? I don’t know about Lauren.’ He flaps a hand in my general direction.
I give Robert a tight smile. ‘I’m good, thanks.’
‘Call me if you need anything.’ Robert seems to direct this offer at me and I mouth a ‘thanks’ at him.
The door closes with a soft click as Alexander reaches for the bottle.
‘See thish?’ he says, ripping off the seal. ‘This is a Glen Moray from the 1960 vintage.’ He screws the paper into a tiny ball and flicks it at the fire but it falls short. ‘It was bottled in 1988, the same year I was
The chandelier has been lit in the ballroom, making it seem darker outside than it actually is. The fire still glows in the hearth but it’s growing chilly despite the heating. Our voices echo because almost all of the mourners have gone. A few closer relatives lingered after I got back with Emma but they’ve gone too. Finally, the room is almost empty and we’re standing by the door, as Alexander kisses Aunt Celia goodbye and almost passes out from her floral fragrance. A few of the catering staff bustle about collecting glasses and plates.
After smiling politely during countless glances and remarks about Americans, I suddenly feel tired, and Emma’s ‘secret’ is an added burden I never asked for. I know Alexander would hit the roof if he found out and that kind of news is the last thing he needs now. Fingers crossed, Emma will get bored with Henry Favell, or he’ll think better of chasing her. I just hope she doesn’t get hurt too badly.
Rupert approaches, knocking back the remains of his whisky.
‘I’m off, then.’ He embraces Alexander in a way I’ve never seen him do before, which makes me suspect it’s for my benefit. ‘If you need me, you know where I am.’
‘Thanks.’ Alexander’s eyes seem a little glazed.
Rupert turns to me, ultra polite. ‘Can I give you a lift anywhere, Lauren?’
‘Thank you so much for the offer, Rupert, but I’ll take care of myself.’
‘She’s shtaying.’ Alexander slings his arm around my back and hugs me to his side. ‘Aren’t you, Lauren?’
I smile at Rupert. ‘If you want me to.’
Alexander glances down at me, puzzlement in his eyes, although that could, of course, be the whisky. ‘Of coursh I do.’
‘In that case,’ says Rupert, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves, ‘I’ll leave you to console each other.’
What a toad he is. Who else would use a funeral to score points off his own cousin, who’s supposedly his ‘best’ friend too? Alexander, however, is wrapped in a fug of Lagavulin and hasn’t noticed the irony in Rupert’s remarks. Actually, in his state, I don’t think Alexander would notice irony if it hit him over the head.
‘Robert will show you out …’ he says, tightening his arm around my back. I think he needs the support.
‘There’s no need. I think I know my way out of Falconbury by now.’
As Alexander turns away to pick up his glass, Rupert shoots me a glance of pure venom that makes me shiver inside, but I smile sweetly and give him a little wave. ‘Goodnight. Have a safe journey, Rupes.’
A few hours later, Emma has gone to her room and Alexander slumps in the deep buttoned armchair in the library, staring into the embers of the fire. His black tie is unknotted and the top button of his shirt is open. I’ve been curled up in the chair next to him, trying to catch up on some reading for college. No one wanted dinner in the dining room, so the staff brought a tray of buffet leftovers into the library. I was starving but Alexander hardly touched anything, preferring his whisky.
The door creaks as Robert enters and places a tray with a fresh bottle of whisky, a jug and two glasses on the table between our chairs. ‘I brought some water too …’ he says, eyeing Alexander apprehensively. ‘Can I get you anything else, sir? Some more food? Helen could make you an omelette or a fresh sandwich? What about some coffee?’
‘Coffee? What would I want coffee for? I don’t know about Lauren.’ He flaps a hand in my general direction.
I give Robert a tight smile. ‘I’m good, thanks.’
‘Call me if you need anything.’ Robert seems to direct this offer at me and I mouth a ‘thanks’ at him.
The door closes with a soft click as Alexander reaches for the bottle.
‘See thish?’ he says, ripping off the seal. ‘This is a Glen Moray from the 1960 vintage.’ He screws the paper into a tiny ball and flicks it at the fire but it falls short. ‘It was bottled in 1988, the same year I was
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