Free A Quiet Death by Alanna Knight Page A

that we are lovers? Is that what's the matter? Is it, is that all it is, my darling?'
    Leaning forward he attempted to embrace her, but she half rose from her chair and seizing the bellpull tugged at it. The sound reverberated and the door opened with such alacrity that Faro could only conclude that the butler had been posted to listen outside.
    'Please show these gentlemen out, Robson.'
    'Yes, Miss Deane.'
    'But Rachel—you can't—you can't do this to me.'
    The butler had a firm grip on Vince's arm. It almost suggested that at one time he might have served with the police too. 'Come along, sir,' he said in the manner of one humouring a madman.
    As Vince struggled, Robson gave Faro a helpless look. There was nothing he could do but bow briefly to Rachel Deane and follow his stepson from the room with as much dignity as was left to him.
    At the foot of the stairs there was a short scuffle as Vince, recovering from that initial shock, made a valiant attempt to race back upstairs and confront Rachel. This time Faro showed no hesitation. He assisted the butler.
    'Come along, lad.'
    'But—but—' Bewildered, Vince was close to tears.
    'There, there, lad.' The door opened rapidly, closed just as swiftly behind them. 'There, there. We'll think of something. Don't you worry.'
    The Glamis Hotel was nearer than Paton's Lane, its surroundings soothing and impersonal, preferable to the bleak depressing bedroom and the risk of an encounter with the McGonagalls.
    Faro thrust Vince up the steps. 'We wish to be private. Have you a room?' he asked at the desk.
    'Across there, sir. We use it for private functions.'
    'Excellent.' Following the bellboy, Faro propelled Vince into the room with its plush sofas and long table. The young man sat down meekly, still too dazed and numb for protest.
    Faro ordered a bottle of whisky, much to the waiter's surprise. He clearly wasn't used to such generous orders.
    'And two glasses.'
    The waiter brought the order, his manner cautious and apprehensive as he stared at Vince, clearly wondering what these two gentlemen were up to. Were they in disagreement? Faro could see him nervously moving glasses and considering what was breakable in the room, as if anticipating an imminent bout of fisticuffs.
    In any other circumstances he would have found it entertaining. And so would Vince. But neither had much heart left for amusement.
    Faro poured out a generous measure. 'Drink it, lad. Go on. You'll feel better.'
    Vince barely raised his head. 'Better? I never felt so vile in my whole life. I wish I was dead. She loves me. She is my wife-my wife, you understand. We have been lovers. And now-to deny it completely. To deny even knowing me. Oh dear God, what has come over her? She cannot be so cruel.'
    He thumped his fist upon the table. 'What am I to do, Stepfather? How can I win her back? Tell me what to do, for God's sake—before I go mad.'
    So saying he crashed down the whisky glass and began pacing back and forth to the window as if expecting some miracle in the shape of Rachel Deane to appear, his actions carefully watched by the nervous waiter who hovered by the private bar.
    'Sit down, Vince. Sit down,' said Faro. 'I can do nothing to help you until we calmly consider all that has happened.'
    'Calmly—how can I consider my broken heart, her cruel treatment calmly?'
    'Because that is the way you have been taught to think, lad. It is the way you were reared, the way you have lived all your life with me,' said Faro sternly. If you are speaking truth—and I don't doubt that for a moment, then Miss Deane is lying. And if she is lying, then there has to be some reason. And we must find it.'
    'She wouldn't lie. She is good and true—'
    'Vince, listen to me. There is a mystery here and it has to be solved like any other mystery. And the sooner you calm yourself, the sooner we will find our answer.' Replenishing the glasses, he said: 'First of all, I want the evidence.'
    'Evidence?'
    'Indeed. I want you to tell me