The Falcon At The Portal by Elizabeth Peters

Author:Elizabeth Peters
Language: eng
Format: epub

The Falcon At The Portal

The verdict had been accidental death.

For the living, the pain had just begun. Whether Jack knew what was being said of his sister I could not tell. He would have been helpless to deny it, since not even the worst of the scandalmongers would have dared say it to his face. He had come out of his stupor of grief and was in a dangerous state of mind, sticking close to his house and, I was told, drinking heavily.

His friends, of whom I counted myself one, were relieved to know that Geoffrey had moved into the house and was staying with him. A few days after the burial the young Englishman sent a message to ask if he might see me. I responded at once, inviting him to tea that same afternoon, for I was anxious to be of help.

Upon my return from the dig I bustled about ordering special dainties and trying to make the ambience as pleasant as possible, for I had a feeling he might be in need of comfort. I was correct as usual. I would be the first to admit that the maternal instinct is not one of my most notable characteristics, but I daresay any woman would have been moved by the sight of the young fellow. His refined features were drawn and there was a hint of pallor under his tan. Sinking into a chair, he let his head fall back against the cushions.

“How good you are to have me, Mrs. Emerson. I feel better just being here. You have made the place a home.”

“Its charm is due in large part to you, Geoffrey. I always say there is nothing like a garden to rest the soul. Your plants are flourishing, you see. It was a particularly thoughtful gesture for which I will always be grateful. What do you take in your tea?”

“Nothing, thank you.” He leaned forward to receive the cup from my hand. His eyes moved round the enclosure; I suspected it was not the blooming plants and twining vines that drew his attention.

“Nefret will be here in a moment,” I said.

His cheeks took on a warmer hue. “Not much escapes you, Mrs. Emerson. Though it was not my primary reason for asking to see you, perhaps I should take advantage of these moments alone to assure you that I have no intention of behaving in an underhanded manner with regard to Miss Forth.”

Concealing my amusement at his formality, I assured him I would never harbor such suspicions.

“Not that I've had the opportunity,” he said with a rueful smile. “I care for her very much, Mrs. Emerson. Her beauty would attract any man, but it was not until I had learned to know her and appreciate her unique qualities of mind and spirit, that my feelings developed as they have. If I believed she reciprocated them, I would ask the Professor's permission to pay my addresses.”

“You think she does not?”

“She thinks of me as a friend, I believe.

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