‘Goodness, Rory, what are you doing standing around in the middle of the corridor.’ ‘I’m waiting for you Ma’am.’ He lowered his voice, ‘in public you must call me McLeod.’ ‘Alright, McLeod,’ I said looking up at him and smiling, ‘you’re looking rather stern. Is anything wrong?’ ‘I am looking at you in the way a butler must regard a lady with dignity and respect.’ ‘Don’t be silly,’ I said looking up and down the corridor and I threw my arms around his neck. These were immediately removed. ‘Don’t be foolish,’ said Rory. ‘I have been sent to escort you to Mr Bertram’s room. He wishes to know how your police interview went.’ ‘Is he well enough for that?’ ‘That is not my place to say, Ma’am,’ said Rory and began to lead the way. I stood still watching him retreat for a few moments. I was not sure if he was teasing me about the whole servant and lady business or if he had something on his mind. Rory could be the most eloquent of entertaining speakers, but, as with most men, trying to get him to tell you what he was thinking was akin to opening an oyster with a knife made of jelly.
What do You think about A Death In The Wedding Party?
