The Sugared Game - K.J. Charles Page 0,77
tell you what, you’re letting that Kim Secretan go to your head.”
“I am not!”
“Oh yes you are, running round hitting people and making cryptic remarks like him out of The 39 Steps. You own a bookshop! What are you up to?”
Will braced himself. “I think it might not be a good idea to trust Waring.”
“Me? Or Phoebe?”
“Anyone. I’m going off what Kim’s said.”
“And he’s messed you around often enough,” Maisie pointed out swiftly.
“And you haven’t told me what a nice old man Waring is, even though you’ve had plenty of chances.”
Maisie walked on in silence for a few steps. At last she said, “He isn’t a nice old man. Of course not, he’s a viscount. He’s very charming and well-mannered and hospitable.”
“You don’t like him.”
Her nostrils flared. “I didn’t say that, and it’s not up to me to like him. He’s very courteous.” She took a couple more steps. “And now you’re making me doubt myself, because I thought that he smiled with his mouth and not his eyes, and I decided he just doesn’t know me yet.”
“You once told me that girls should never ignore their feelings about men.”
“Don’t you quote me against myself. Will, what’s happening? You’ve got me worried.”
“So am I. Would you go home?”
“I can’t do that! Phoebe’s done so much, she’s putting up with Johnnie Cheveley for us, and Lord Waring’s giving us the money. I can’t just walk out because I’ve got a funny feeling. About her dad, too!”
“I wish you’d both go. Could we fake a message from your sick auntie and ask Phoebe to come with you?”
“No,” Maisie said comprehensively. “And I don’t know where you’ve got this taste for lying from—well, I do, but it needs to stop, and you need to talk to me. I’m not throwing away everything Phoebe’s done for me because of a few cryptic comments.”
This felt like some sort of cosmic punishment for shouting at Kim. Will fervently wished he hadn’t raised the subject. “Maisie, I can’t, not yet. All I can say is, I think Waring’s bad news. Really bad news.”
“But you aren’t telling me why. You can’t do this to me, Will. It isn’t fair.”
“It wouldn’t exactly be fair to Phoebe if I told you a lot of things about her father that she didn’t know!”
“Things Kim knows.”
“Yes.”
“And hasn’t told her.”
“Uh—”
“I’m not having this,” Maisie said flatly. “You don’t treat friends this way, or people you love, and you know that yourself, Will Darling. I expect better from you than this cloak and dagger nonsense. And your Kim needs to think very hard about what matters, because Phoebe’s kept him on his feet long enough and he won’t even be honest with her, and now you’re playing his game too? Have some respect.”
She stalked back towards the house. Will trailed after her.
Kim was talking to Cheveley when he returned to the garden, looking particularly saturnine. “Will. Let me show you your room, and then we’ll have that little chat with the viscount.”
He led the way inside, up the grand oak stairs and along a series of elegantly wallpapered corridors. “It’s just down here. You’re in Borodino and I’m in the Pyramids.”
“Sorry?”
“All the bedrooms are named for Napoleonic battles. Lord Waring is a great admirer of Napoleon. Phoebe sleeps in Corunna. The master bedroom is of course Austerlitz.”
“Is that right,” Will said. “Does he have a Waterloo?”
Kim’s eyes met his as he stopped by a door that bore a sign reading Borodino. “Not yet.”
He opened the door and gestured Will in, then stepped in after him.
It was a very nice room, with a single bed, a dresser with a mirror, a vase of fresh flowers. Will’s bag was on a chair, apparently unopened. He checked inside and found the Messer.
“Lovely,” Kim said. “So pleased you’ve brought a murder weapon to a house party.”
“You said to come armed. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Not a clue.” Kim sounded almost cheerful. “I expect we’ll get a hint from Waring shortly. You probably don’t need to go armed to that meeting unless it makes you feel better. Did you have a set-to with Maisie?”
“I was trying to warn her about Waring and see if she’d go home. But I couldn’t say why, so it didn’t go well. Actually, I did about as badly as was humanly possible.”
“At least we’re consistent,” Kim said. “This is the hell of it. Prepare to feel like the villain of the piece to Maisie, to Phoebe, to whatever audience Waring