Home > The Tied Man (The Tied Man #1)(18)

The Tied Man (The Tied Man #1)(18)
Author: Tabitha McGowan

Blaine reached across the table and placed her hand over mine. ‘I’m sure he’d be all too glad to lend his opinion, wouldn’t you, darling?’ It wasn’t one of those questions that required an answer from me.  ‘I can’t imagine that even the most wide-eyed art naïf could fail to be impressed at your talent.’

Lilith

That was the moment that I realised that I didn’t like her.  I knew nothing else about the woman, but I did know this.  It may have simply been the grubby link with my father, or maybe it was because of what I didn’t know.  Someone making such an effort to be this unreadable was either a born enigmatic or had something particularly huge to hide, and I had yet to meet a born enigmatic.

As we discussed my work, I had to admit that Blaine Albermarle was the most effortlessly charming woman I had ever met.  I could only admire the way she had welcomed me and was now doing her utmost to make me the most important person on the planet, but I had long ago learned to listen to even the merest whisper of unease.

‘You look ready for a refill.’ Blaine gestured at my empty glass.  ‘I feel like such a bad hostess.  Too much talk and not enough attention.’

Ego massage and endless wine: an easy way to lull the unwary into comfortable, dangerous complacency.  I placed a hand over the top of the glass.  ‘No, thank you.  A mineral water would be good, though.’

‘Water?  Oh, Lilith.  You’ve just had what must have been the most exhausting day.  Why not allow yourself to relax a little more?’

‘Because I have work in the morning.  I get up early, I go for a run and I’m usually at work for half seven.’

‘In that case I’ll ensure your breakfast is served early.  Henry, please could you fetch some water for Lilith?’

Finn

I pushed congealing ravioli around the plate with the back of my fork.   I glanced at Lilith, who was now curled into her chair, balancing a two hundred year-old crystal glass on her fingertips and taking in her new surroundings.  Nothing so far had fazed her, or if it had, it didn’t cause a ripple on her dispassionate, elfin face.  Even Coyle O’fucking Halloran, Blaine’s opening move in her well-practiced charm offensive, had been summarily and accurately dispatched with a few dismissive words. I almost craved my earlier disappointment:  hope was a far more dangerous place.

As Henry began to clear the table of the dessert bowls, Lilith turned to him and laid a hand on his arm.  ‘That really was delicious – the best meal I’ve had in years.’

Guests never spoke to Henry – he was background, and acknowledging him might mean they were surprised by the presence of a butler; not the cool thing to do in the presence of aristocracy.  He gave Lilith a look of such pathetic gratitude that I contemplated throwing my breadknife at his head.

‘Oh,  it’s nothing at all, just a little something I threw together,’ he wittered.  ‘And to be honest, with the wonderful kitchen Blaine’s given me here, it would be sinful not to use it to its full advantage.’

Unfortunately he was too far away for me to get away with calling him a toadying little shit without Blaine hearing me.

‘I suppose it must be a little easier than trying to keep the sand out of the generals’ dinner when you were out in Kuwait,’ Lilith casually remarked, and Henry’s jaw virtually dropped to the table.

‘Oh. My. God.  That’s amazing! How on earth?...’

Lilith sighed and shook her head.  ‘If I give my secrets away, I may never work in vaudeville again.’

‘Oh, please,’ Henry pleaded.  ‘Just a hint?’

‘Okay, just this once.’  Lilith smiled at him, and from the ridiculous look of adoration he gave her I knew she had a pet for life.

‘First,  I look for a way in – something to start me on the right track.  With you, it’s your gait – you’ve got that military ‘broom up your arse’ walk, even in civvies.   That puts you in the forces, and then it’s a question of which one.  It’s only a one in three guess to start with, but your most dominant accent’s Hampshire, which is Aldershot, so I went for Army.  Anyone who cooks like this has done it for a living forever and that would make you quartermaster, and your age would suggest that your most recent active service would have been First Gulf.’

Blaine gave a soft round of applause.  ‘Very impressive.  It certainly puts paid to any rumour that your splendid assault on Johnny Buckle was a set-up.’

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