Just Before Midnight by Suzanne Robinson

Author:Suzanne Robinson [Robinson, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
Published: 2000-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

12

Still wearing his evening clothes Cheyne threw his coat over his shoulders and slipped out of his house. His hand was on the latch of the wrought-iron gate surrounding the service yard when a bulky form emerged from the darkness.

“Going, are you?”

“Blast it, Mutton, don’t creep up on me like that.” Cheyne went through the gate and shut it before Mutton could follow. “I told you earlier, you’re not going.”

“He’s shown his face, so to speak. He’ll be wary.”

“The blackmailer won’t return to Spencer House tonight. I’m going to speak with Miss Bright and find out what happened. I don’t need you.”

“Right.”

“Go to bed,” Cheyne said.

“Right.”

Shaking his head, Cheyne set off for Spencer House. He took a cab to Green Park and walked across the grass.

It had begun. The rat had taken the bait, and he should feel elated. Cheyne paused beside a plane tree, fighting the rage that had exploded in him when he had encountered Barmy Richmond pawing Miss Bright. The gentlemen had been passing around the port after dinner when Barmy excused himself. Cheyne noticed a peculiarly avid expression on his face. Intrigued, he’d followed his old school friend, saw him speak to Mrs. Bright and then go upstairs. Curiosity took him the rest of the way, but he almost left when he saw Barmy join Miss Bright in the Painted Room. He struggled with his conscience, but not long. It had been easy to open the door in order to see what Barmy was about.

Cheyne hadn’t expected to react the way he had. Seeing Barmy clutching Mattie Bright had aroused something in him he’d thought he’d left behind in South Africa. There he’d seen so much blood. His closest friend had been killed by a hidden rifleman, a shot in the back. The rage he’d felt against poor Barmy had been almost as great. Something primitive stirred in his gut, uncoiled and crouched, ready to spring. Only the most rigid discipline overcame the urge to strangle, rend, and crush. The violence of his feelings frightened him.

He had wanted to tear Mattie Bright from Barmy’s grasp and snarl a warning at him. Deep within himself he acknowledged that he’d wanted Barmy to challenge him so that he could unleash the beast imprisoned within the civilized and gentlemanly veneer.

“Get hold of yourself, old man,” Cheyne muttered to himself.

He knew what was wrong. He’d fallen victim to Miss Bright’s eloquent pen. He still remembered her last letter. She’d written of her loneliness and how different love was from ideals and fairy tales.

“Shall I tell you what I’ve learned?” she’d written. “Love isn’t all grand feeling and starry skies. It is finding a companionable soul with whom you can sing in harmony, not the same tune but a complementary one. Love is liking and admiring, yet seeing truth about someone with unclouded, unfearing eyes, and accepting that truth.”

Cheyne leaned against the plane tree. “Unclouded, unfearing eyes. She’s certainly got those.”

If she knew him, knew everything, would she still look at

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