The Bet

“Damned cruel trick if you ask me,” Gerald muttered.

Myles heartily agreed with his sentiments. Immediately, his thoughts turned to the lights outside. Deep in the back of his mind, a tendril of a thought began to filter through his confusion. It took root and began to blossom like a seed in the spring-time. He suspected that Estelle’s flight out of the woods, the hooded cloaks, and the reason he had received the deceiving note were all connected somehow, but he couldn’t see how just yet.

I don’t know if I am seeing shadows and links where there are none, he mused as he studied the flames in the fireplace. I certainly hate to think I am the victim of somebody’s sick prank like this, but what other reason could anybody have to get us all here together like this?

Nobody knew he was going to come back to London – not unless they knew Myles well enough to know that he would drop everything and rush home as quickly as he had.

“When did you receive your letter?” Myles asked his uncle.

“Yesterday,” Gerald replied. “I drove all day to get here. I was damned angry to walk in and find him eating his breakfast without a care in the world, I don’t mind telling you.”

“I am sorry my being alive has put you out so,” Barnabas replied dryly.

Gerald threw him a glare but didn’t speak. Instead, he shook his head and pointed to the letters. “What I want to know is who else has received one of those?”

“Well, Vernon is already here. He is in the music room, I think. Then Eva is here, as always. She has gone to bed early with a headache,” Barnabas explained.

“Has anybody heard from Beatrice?” Myles looked at his father who shook his head.

“Not as yet, no. I doubt we will given how this weather has turned.”

“What about Isaac?” Myles looked at Gerald, who snorted.

“He is here. He was about to come with me to the shoot and drove half of the way here. Stupid boy finds the whole ruse hilarious.”

“I don’t,” Barnabas retorted dourly.

“Neither do I,” Myles replied swiftly. “In fact, this is most alarming.”

“Well, I suppose there has been no harm done really, has there?” Gerald murmured hesitantly when a somewhat tense atmosphere had settled over them and refused to lift.

“Do you think so? I had only just arrived in London a couple of hours previous. I had just eaten a meal and was conversing with my friends when this arrived. It caused great consternation and a lot of worry.” Myles snorted and then froze. “Good Lord.”

“Good Lord what?” Barnabas’ voice was sharp.

Myles stared at him. “Someone has been following me.”

“What? How? Who?” Gerald snapped. “I hoped to Hades they haven’t been following me.”

Barnabas lifted his brows at him. “Have you got something to hide?”

“No, why should I?” Gerald replied, his voice a little too high-pitched and his gaze a little too furtive for him to be truthful.

Myles snorted. “I was in the tavern when I received my note. Someone knew I was there.”

“Or someone was waiting for you to arrive there,” Barnabas reported.

“Why would anybody want to follow you to London?” Gerald demanded.

“How did you receive your letter?” Barnabas asked.

Gerald shrugged. “I had an early breakfast. Cragton said the post had come early and that a letter had been delivered. I didn’t think to ask how. When I read the note I told Isaac that we had to come here instead.”

“You didn’t find out what the person looked like who delivered it?” Barnabas cursed when Gerald shook his head. He looked at Myles. “You?”

Myles shook his head. “The bar maid brought it to me. She said it had just been delivered. I was too curious to receive a note in the tavern and opened it. By the time I had read it, all I could think about was getting home. I didn’t stop to consider anything else.”

“How strange,” Gerald sighed.