I pushed him away, shaking my head, tears glinting in my eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just… You came to save me earlier, but no one came to save Dolly.”
I covered my face with my hands. He held me even while I resisted, and I was glad. Because I needed it.
“We don’t have to go to the party tonight,” he murmured against my hair. “Maybe it is too soon. You should stay home and rest.”
I could hear a touch of reluctance in his voice. He knew as well as I did that the longer we waited, the less chance of ever catching her murderer.
I pushed him away. “No. Let’s get this over with. I want to catch the bastard.”
Chapter 16
BETH
I hovered by the bar, watching Marco across the ballroom, schmoozing with his pals.
We were in the main hall of The Banqueting House in Whitehall, which was abuzz with what seemed thousands of people. All strangers. I’d been glad when we’d bumped into Marco’s cousin Sandro, who I recognised only by sight from the club.
Sandro, who was as tall, dark and handsome as Marco, had kissed me on both cheeks. Then grinned at Marco. “So, this is the fiancée your mother has been… so, er…”
“Vocal about?” Marco finished, with a quirk of his brow, pulling me away from Sandro and possessively tucking my arm into his.
The cousins had smirked at each other, and I had wondered if Sandro knew the truth of what was really going on.
Sandro had been rakishly attentive, solicitously going to fetch me a drink, insisting I tell him all about how Marco and I had met, but I could tell by the tenseness of Marco’s jaw that Sandro’s mild flirtation towards me was pissing him off.
So I had made my excuses and wandered off among the glitzy crowd, who were effortlessly enjoying the plentiful champagne, the fine dining buffet, and finding much to talk and laugh about.
Dolly would’ve been in her element here, schmoozing, making friends with everyone who caught her discerning eye. But I felt distant from it all.
I scanned the magnificent ballroom, one end of which was kitted out for a charity auction, with a lectern up on stage. The auction was not underway yet. Waiters circulated with canapes and silver trays of champagne flutes.
I had come to get a drink at the bar because I needed something to do, though I could have easily flagged down a passing server.
I was in no mood to schmooze, and was turning over what Marco had instructed me to do in my mind. I gave myself a few minutes’ respite, gazing dreamily up at the soaring ceiling with ornate plasterwork and glittering chandeliers, stunned by the magnificent masterpiece adorning it, painted by Peter Paul Rubens, the mythological scenes awe-inspiring. How lovely it would have been to come here as Marco’s real partner, to have not a worry in the world.
I took a sip of my flute of orange juice, which I had asked for instead of a mimosa, and desperately looked around the room, searching for Toby. This was my chance to sneak off.
We’d been here for half an hour already, but I had seen no sign of him. Marco had introduced me to a few of his acquaintances already as his date, and only smiled mysteriously when their eyes had landed on the huge diamond on my finger.
He knew how to play this game that he had instructed me to play too well. “Let them gossip about us,” he’d said in the car on the way over. “It’ll bring curious people over to you.”
He had set me free to circulate and spread the little rumour that he hoped would bring the killer out of the woodwork.
“Love the dress!” called a voice behind me. I turned to see a trio of gorgeously sleek young women approaching me.
The cool blond was the one who’d spoken. “Georgina Frayer-Tattinger,” she said in the sloany kind of voice my school pals had. She swooped in to give me an air kiss. “Darling, is it true what everyone is saying? Marco DeAngelis finally got himself engaged?”
She seized my hand and held it out for her friends to gape at my engagement ring.
“Unbelievable,” breathed the redhead, who was stunning in scarlet and actually pulled it off even with her pale colouring. “We never thought it could be true.”
“He is too sexy to be stuck with just one woman,” trilled the stunning girl with raven black hair, as if she was only joking. “You’d better get used to him playing away.”
Georgina nodded. “Probably true,” she said in faux sympathy. “Tina’s joking, but we all know men are dogs. Especially that sort of man.”