‘Well, here we all are,’ he says, cold and warm all at the same time.
‘Drink, Robert?’ Eleanor asks, handing him a glass of scotch with a peck on the cheek as he enters my field of vision.
I look away.
And when I look back, Robert is looking straight at me. ‘Harriet Reed, I hear congratulations are in order. You’re with child.’ He raises his glass to us both and Edward responds in kind, the air between them crackling.
Robert’s gaze dips to the blue flower on my breast, his expression unfaltering. ‘Not that we didn’t take you seriously before, Harriet,’ Robert says carefully. ‘But this certainly changes things. Wouldn’t you say, Edward?’
* * *
As we file out of the drawing room for dinner, Edward is plucked from beside me by Eleanor.
‘You don’t mind if I steal him away, Harriet dear?’ she asks. ‘There’s one more clue to arrange before this evening. And I need someone tall,’ she pats her son on the shoulder.
‘Of course,’ I demure, aware that if I’m unchaperoned I am open to Robert.
Edward plants a quick kiss on my cheek and mother and son slip back into the drawing room while I follow the rest of the Holbecks to dinner.
Robert’s hand finds my elbow on the threshold of the candlelit dining room, strong but gentle, tender almost. ‘A word?’ His voice goes straight through me, hitting all my sweet spots.
I look up at him as the rest of the family find their seats, too busy juggling drinks and conversations to notice. We’re as alone as we could be.
‘Yes,’ I say carefully.
‘Good.’ His gaze falls on the flower on my lapel. ‘Thank you for following my instructions. The colour suits you,’ he says with a smile that undercuts everything, and I feel a giddiness I hate myself for feeling.
I cannot take my eyes off him, and I do not want to, partly because I fear what he would do if I did, and partly because I do not want to break this spell. It’s like he’s devouring me and I, in turn, him.
‘You listened to it,’ he says simply. ‘And you’re here. That’s a good start. I had a feeling you would be capable of engaging with this.’
‘I’m here because I have to be,’ I answer, and hope my meaning is clear. I am here to end whatever this is so I can live my life. My life with Edward.
‘Aren’t we all, Harriet. Aren’t we all? We can speak more after the game tonight. I think you should have a better understanding of things by then.’ He rips his gaze from me, eyeing his seated family. ‘Remember, whatever happens, you must play alone tonight. Do you understand?’
I nod.
‘Of course you do,’ he says with finality.
42 The Rules
Saturday 24 December
At the gleaming, opulently laid Christmas table, I find my seat next to Matilda’s.
Conversation bubbles on, crystal glasses sparkle, eyes creasing with laughter. Down the centre of the table, candles flicker in a braided evergreen centre piece, the whole scene reminiscent of a Dickensian print illustration; a cornucopia.
Stuart is holding court on the Lila situation. Updating those who do not know on why she is absent.
I keep silent. I watch Robert in the flickering light; I watch them all. This odd family who are now my family, my future. I remember Robert’s warning about them, how any one of them could know about me. That they, like him, are not to be trusted. I wish I were Lila; I wish I were not here; I wish I were free. But then I would not get Edward, and that is all I want.
When he and Eleanor finally rejoin us, he slips into the seat beside his father’s with barely a look to the name place. I wonder if he knew he would be sitting there, beside his father, or if he’s just covering well.