Curzon directed his guests back to the mansion, where a general leave-taking began as curricles and carriages left standing during the race quickly filled up with passengers, though none decamped immediately. Noise and confusion reined as high-spirited horseflesh resisted efforts to curb them until Threlbourne’s fate had been learned. Elspeth had not watched the race, but had retreated indoors with Gilbert’s mother, Lady Margaret, and Curzon’s elderly grandmother. She emerged now, obviously prepared to snub Pelham, but just as obviously on the alert for sight of him. Davida saw her eyes dart over the crowd. When she realized he wasn’t there, she approached Davida, who was standing somewhat aside, watching the drive nervously for some sign of her escort. “What has happened, Miss Gresham? Why is everyone staring down the drive. And you look worried. Has something happened to Mon—to someone?” Davida heard the alarm behind the carefully modulated question.
