Page 119 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
Mama, having called after her husband, turned towards the group. “Excuse me, please,” she said, and left the room.
The four people stared at one another.
“We’d better tell Foster to dole out the remains of thehors d’oeuvres,” said Emily. “Who knows if the wedding will ever take place.”
“Sister!” said Madeline. “Do not say such a thing! Of course the wedding is going to take place! Both weddings are. Aren’t they, Peter?”
Lord Peter stood by the fireplace, his arm on the mantle, stroking his chin. He was deep in thought, almost monk-like.
“Peter?” repeated Madeline.
Peter sparked to attention. “Hmm?”
“I said, the wedding will go on as planned. Isn’t that right?”
“Hmm? Oh ... yes ... yes, of course ...” His words trailed off like smoke as he paced towards the door. “Yes,” he said as if from a distance. “Yes, of course ...”
Madeline looked at Oliver and Emily. “Oh my heavens ... what is happening?” she said, and ran out after him.
Chapter 82
She found him pacing in the gardens, his hands locked behind his back. His head was down, and his gait was slow, measured, as if every step was a decision to be made unto itself.
“Peter?” she called out softly.
He did not look up.
“My Lady!” cried Lisbelle from behind her. “What are you doing out here? And what—” Noticing Lord Peter, she lowered her voice. “And what are you doing walking with ... withhimout here alone. You’ll be scandalised.”
“Oh, Lizzy, if it’s that important to you, by all means, serve as my chaperone.”
“I will,” said Lisbelle. “I must.”
“We’re in the midst of a crisis, Lisbelle. I may need your cool head and steady hand for support.”
Lisbelle stared at her, unable to speak for a moment. “Why, yes, yes of course, M’Lady.”
She followed behind as Madeline resumed walking towards Peter. He was aware of her presence now, she knew, for she’d seen him cast his eyes back at them upon Lizzy’s approach.
“You cannot ignore me, Peter.”
He looked up, his face grim. “Apologies, Madeline. I am in deep thought and trying to solve a problem. I would appreciate it if I could be left alone to do so.”
“No,” she said defiantly. “I will not allow it.”
“Pardon me?”
“I am going to be your wife, Peter. You cannot push me away. I am sure of it. But you,” she said, moving closer to him, “you need not fear my heavy hand. I am sure of what I want, and I will fight for it. But you need not fear that you are giving up on a life you could have led without me. I promise you, Peter ... I will give you the joy you so richly deserve! And if you do not want it, I will admit defeat and walk away knowing that I am all the stronger for the fight. It matters no longer what anyone else wants for me. It is enough that I know what I want, and I am willing to fight for it. It is the fight that counts.”
“You speak much of fighting,” he said with a smile. “Little of love.”
“Oh, love, yes,” she returned. “That word that is so overused and yet is so undefinable. Well, I can define it, Peter. Not with words, but with the rest of my life by your side.”
“Madeline,” he said, taking her hand.
A spark of fear ignited in her. She looked over at Lisbelle, who promptly turned her head.
“Yes, Peter?” she said breathlessly.
