CHAPTER TEN
“Are you alright, my darling?” the Count cried as soon as Joe opened the door.
Marguerite's stomach dropped when she recognised the visitor. He had looked like a ghoul last night at the recital. Today, he looked even worse. If possible his complexion was even paler, and when accompanied with those pale blue eyes of his, stained red with tiny bloodied veins, he looked like a vampire who should be back in his box.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Sayers lifted one arrogant brow and looked at her balefully. “I hope you don’t greet all of your guests like that.”
Marguerite snorted. “I wouldn’t if you were a welcome guest,” she murmured.
Although Sayers heard her, he didn’t pick her up on it. Instead, he focused his attention on Joe and nodded coldly at him. There was a hint of malicious satisfaction in his eyes that Joe knew he wasn’t going to like.
“What do you want?” Joe asked.
Sayers suddenly stepped aside and turned to look at a small, rotund gentleman who thus far had been hidden behind the gangster. Joe knew immediately who the man was, and mentally cursed Sayers for his foresight.
Marguerite looked at the little man in surprise. She had no idea who he was, but dressed in a dapper suit, with large jowls and a scowl on his face, she suspected he was a force to be reckoned with. Unless her first impression of him was wrong, he was also just as arrogant as Sayers.
Although he wasn’t invited in, Sayers sauntered casually into the house and looked about him in much the same was as a man did when studying his empire. It irked Joe because he knew the man was trying to make a point in that he intended it all to be his one day, and Joe was a mere insignificant pest who merely delayed his plans a little.
“We are here to speak with the man of the house, Eustace,” Sayers drawled with a hint of mockery in his voice.
“It isn’t appropriate right now,” Marguerite murmured.
She tried to sound apologetic but knew she didn’t. Sayers and the magistrate exchanged glances as though deciding which one of them would press her to gain entrance and search the house.
“I am Roger Lucas, the magistrate around these parts. When the Count, here, couldn’t get anybody to answer the door last night he became concerned so came to fetch me. I am pleased to see that you are alright, but should like a word with your father if he is around?” The little man glanced at the Count as if to ask if his rehearsed speech was acceptable.
The Count nodded slowly.
“As your fiancé, I was worried about you,” the Count declared. “I still am.”
Marguerite glared at each man in turn. “I am not engaged to you,” she spat. “I am engaged to this man here.”
She immediately fell silent when she realised she couldn’t remember the name Joe had given Sayers last night. It might have been Jeremy, something or other. Rather than get it wrong, she turned to Joe in a silent plea for help.
Joe stepped forward and slid a protective arm around her waist. It silently reassured her that everything would be alright; she just had to stick to the role she needed to play.
With this man by her side, Marguerite didn’t doubt it and turned to face the two visitors with renewed determination to get rid of them as quickly as possible.
“My father doesn’t accept unannounced guests,” Marguerite warned him. “He wasn’t expecting you. I know, because he would have told me you were coming.”
“I arranged to meet with him here this morning,” Sayers persisted, craning his neck to see through the half-open door into the study.
Joe moved to block his view and pointedly closed the door before he returned to Marguerite, and placed a proprietary hand across her waist. Drawing her protectively against his side reassured him that she was safe, and her that she didn’t have to face this man alone. He could feel her physically trembling as she stood beside him but, for the life of him could see no evidence of it on her face as she looked at Sayers.
Good on you, he thought with a hint of pride. He has no idea how worried you are. Keep it that way.
The Count shrugged ineffectually and stepped closer. Marguerite instinctively recoiled before she realised she had just shown him how much he had unnerved her. Squaring her shoulders she stood her ground.
“That
is just it, my dear. You see, when you were accosted from the recital last night, I went to fetch the magistrate. She sent men to find your father. He wasn’t at the recital. In fact, the hostess of the evening couldn’t even remember him arriving in the first place.”
“But he was there,” Marguerite protested. “I should know. I was with him at the time. There is nothing for you to concern yourself about.”
She knew that Sayers was lying and suspected now, with more conviction, that he had something to do with her father’s disappearance.