Page 18 of The Midnight Secret

‘Hmm? The sixty-eight drawing room?’ Gladly murmured with mild surprise as they were led on and on towards a room in the south wing. ‘We don’t usually get taken to the grand rooms.’

‘Albie must really be putting on a show,’ Colly drawled.

Effie couldn’t imagine what, here, could possibly pass asnotgrand, but there was no time to comment as they were ushered inside.

‘Ah, Gladly, you made it!’ said a tall, pale man, breaking away from a group of four others standing before the vast oak fireplace. He looked visibly relieved to see them. ‘Chaps, this is Gilbert Hay, the old chum I was telling you about. He lives down the road at Dupplin.’

‘Why does he call you Gladly?’ one of the men asked, pumping Gladly’s hand vigorously.

‘You’ll see,’ Albie smiled as Peony and Bitsy, who had taken extra care with their appearance tonight, sailed forward. ‘Ladies, allow me to introduce Charlie Buck and Jimmy Cripshank, friends from the grand old U S of A. And also some pals from closer to home, Eddie Rushton and Archie Baird-Hamilton. Gents, Lady Bettina Cameron, Lady Peony Lovat, Miss Veronica Maudsley and—’ Albie’s gaze fell on Effie. ‘I don’t believe I’ve yet had the honour.’

‘Miss Euphemia Gillies,’ Sholto said, with a proprietorial hand upon Effie’s waist that none of the men missed. ‘My fiancée.’

Albie took her hand and lightly the kissed the back of it. ‘Miss Gillies, I’ve heard wonderful things. A pleasure.’

‘How do you do?’ she smiled. He had kind eyes, which wasn’t true of everyone she’d met; many seemed to hide guile behind manners, grit beneath polish.

‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Gillies,’ Archie Baird-Hamilton said beside him. He was very tall, taller even than Sholto, with film-idol looks: brown hair, a chin cleft, deeply tanned but with freckles on the bridge of his nose. As with all the men in their group, he had an air of bemusement about him. Privilege, it seemed to Effie, bred a sort of softness into them; they didn’t need to fight or struggle for what they had. But she caught a glint of something sharper in his eyes too.

The girls already seemed to know Archie well, kissing him with bored familiarity, their eyes fixed firmly upon the international visitors. The men were all briskly shaking hands, but the Americans had a looseness to them which was at odds with the Scots’ upright, almost military bearing.

‘Colquhoun,’ Tarquin said. ‘Call me Colly.’

‘Campbell,’ Ferg nodded, openly regarding the Americans with suspicion. Their teeth were white, their smiles bright, and both Peony and Bitsy looked dazzled.

‘Albie says you’re in Hollywood?’ Veronica asked as a cocktail was placed in her hand.

‘Yes, but strictly behind the scenes, I’m afraid,’ Cripshank replied.

‘You’re producers?’ Colly asked.

Cripshank nodded. ‘People think that it’s glamorous, but ninety-nine per cent of the job is spent in meetings trying to secure finance.’

‘But the other one per cent? Do you ever get to go on set?’ asked Peony, who looked breathtaking in violet silk.

Cripshank’s eyes settled upon her like a hand on a pelt. ‘Of course.’

‘Have you met Chaplin?’

‘Indeed.’

‘Is he a riot?’

‘Surprisingly not.’

‘How about Claudette Colbert?’ Bitsy asked. ‘Do you know her?’

‘Sweet Claudie? I was the one who got her the deal at Paramount.’

‘You did?’ Peony breathed. ‘She’s so beautiful.’

‘Sure,’ he shrugged. ‘The camera loves her, there’s no denying it.’

‘Do I sense abut?’ Bitsy pounced.

‘Not at all.’

Her smile was instantly coquettish. Confiding. ‘Come now, Mr Cripshank, you’re among friends.’

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