Dangerous Decisions by Margaret Kaine Page A

setting of the large music room at Graylings where the Steinway piano was surrounded by a circle of velvet chairs – the perfect frame for a lovely hostess.
    Eventually the piano keys became silent, and Oliver opened his eyes to gaze directly into Helena’s slightly quizzical ones. He gave a warm, appreciative smile and it was in that moment that he realised that the eighteen-year-old girl he had chosen to be his wife was going to develop into an exceptionally beautiful woman.
    â€˜Jolly accomplished, isn’t she?’ Johnnie Horton said later as Oliver strolled over to take a seat next to him on the sofa.
    â€˜She
is
a bit special.’
    â€˜Topping, old chap. I must say I’m having a smashing time. I suppose I was invited because I introduced the two of you.’ He glanced around the room. ‘I could have done with a bit more female distraction.’
    Oliver laughed. ‘You’re not enamoured of Dorothy, then?’
    â€˜Too clever by half, and the other two girls are hardly beauties.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I shall be visiting the luscious Cora when I get back to London.’
    Oliver frowned at the indiscretion – this was hardly the time or place to speak of such matters.
    â€˜Mind you,’ Johnnie said, ‘Hugh’s a decent sort.’
    â€˜Indeed he is, so don’t go leading him astray.’ Oliver’s comment was automatic; his interest lay in an intense conversation taking place nearby.
    â€˜If you’re really interested in standing, then you need to be putting out feelers now.’ The man speaking, whose weather-beaten face looked like creased leather, was apparently an old friend of Jacob’s. His rather stout wife was on the other side of the room chatting to Beatrice.
    Jacob’s tone was confidential. ‘I thought it might be a bit early.’
    Geoffrey Blundred shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Jacob, I hope you realise what a minefield politics can be. There’s a fair bit of skulduggery that goes on.’
    â€˜I still think there’s a place for an honest man.’
    Oliver tucked the useful nugget away as Johnnie nudged him. ‘Are you listening, old boy? I was saying how well old Standish feeds us. That mutton was the best I’ve tasted and the salmon was excellent.’
    In the Servants’ Hall, everyone was exhausted. ‘I don’t know why anyone needs eight courses,’ Molly said. ‘I’ve never had more than a dinner and a pudding in me life, at least not at the same time.’
    Cook was resting her swollen ankles. ‘I can’t deny it’s been hard work these past few days. I told you we would have to entertain. Mind you, at least there should be some tasty leftovers for the rest of us.’
    â€˜I suppose that valet of Mr Horton’s is packing, ready for the off tomorrow, same as Miss Dorothy’s maid.’ Ida flopped in a chair. ‘Gosh, I’m tired.’
    â€˜Yes, well, tired or not,’ Cook snapped, ‘I want this kitchen spick and span and ready for tomorrow morning. There’s another full range of dishes to prepare for breakfast
and
kedgeree.’
    â€˜I don’t know where they put it all.’ Annie was toiling at the sink. ‘They ought to share it out a bit. When I think how some people have to manage on bread and scrape …’
    â€˜There’s one world for us and one world for them. Surely you know that by now,’ Molly said.
    â€˜You know, Annie’—they all turned as the butler came into the kitchen—‘in some kitchens the scullery maid would be seen and not heard. You’re far too fond of expressing your opinions.’
    â€˜Take no notice, love,’ Cook said once he had left carrying a bottle of Madeira. ‘He’s just tired, like the rest of us. And once all this is over, it’ll be even busier, in fact a flaming nightmare, what with having some of that