Part 13 (1/2)

He gestured and John turned his head to look, his eye alighting on a listless woman with a pained expression.

*We shall be delighted to do so,' said the Marchesa rapidly, taking John under the elbow and steering him towards the Earl and his new wife.

The pair stood slightly apart and John had a second or two to look at them before he arrived before them. St Austell seemed almost rejuvenated by the recent ceremony, his long white hair glinting in the suns.h.i.+ne, tied back with his usual scarlet ribbon. Beside him the bride looked like a vixen who had just killed a chicken and was waiting to devour it. They were one of the nastiest wedded couples that the Apothecary had ever clapped his eyes on.

Lord St Austell spoke. *May I say how d.a.m.ned fine you look, Madam.'

This remark was addressed to the Marchesa, who dropped a small curtsey in response.

*But not as fine as your bride, my Lord.'

The Earl made no answer but seized Miranda roughly round the waist and pulled her towards him in a gesture so familiar that John knew they had already been to bed together.

*No, n.o.body could be as lovely as my Countess.'

He said this with such an air of satisfaction that John wanted to hit him. Elizabeth, sensing his tension, complimented Miranda on her appearance and hurried John into the wedding feast proper.

The meal began with schooners of sherry, dry as a bone and much to the Apothecary's taste. Then when everybody was seated in their appointed place, the food was served by Lady Sidmouth's staff with extra people brought in so that there should be no slacking.

John found himself between Elizabeth and Lettice James, once again minus a husband whom John was beginning to suspect was a figment of her imagination. She had outdone herself as regards her ensemble and had topped the whole thing with an enormous hat, representing a s.h.i.+p in full sail, the mast of which threatened to prise John's eye out whenever she bent forward.

*My oh my, what a n.o.ble company, is it not, Mr Rawlings? I feel quite elevated by being amongst them, so I do.'

John dodged the mast and got slapped by a spinnaker instead.

*Your husband is not with you today, Mrs James?'

*No, poor dear, he suffers terribly with a personal complaint and is laid low with it I fear.'

John hesitated to ask in case she told him, but Elizabeth entered the conversation.

*I'm sorry to hear that. What form does his illness take?'

Lettice lowered her voice to a hoa.r.s.e whisper. *Flatulence.'

*Indeed. Is there no cure?'

The Apothecary felt it coming before the words had formed.

*I wondered if Mr Rawlings would have a look at him and might indeed prescribe something. Many local doctors have washed their hands of the case.'

John winced. *Gladly, Madam. One of these days I will call in.'

*Could you not be a little more specific, Sir?'

*Alright. I'll come next week.'

*Oh thank you, thank you,' gushed Lettice and hit John with a mainsail for a reward.

The meal progressed and the sunlight slowly moved round until it was coming in across the sea. Cuthbert Simms appeared and informed them that the orchestra was setting up in the Great Hall and, indeed, strains of music could be heard.

*My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,' he announced importantly, *the dancing will be led by the bridal couple.'

The Earl of St Austell rose to his full height and his cruel mouth forced itself into a smile. *Come, Miranda,' he said, *let us show the young folk how it should be done.'

The company rose as he led his bride outward and then followed him in a ma.s.s, drunk with wine and with the general atmosphere of high excitement. John led Elizabeth out, taking her by the hand, noticing the way the folds of her gown gleamed in the dusky light. How could he ever let her go? he wondered.

They stood round the room in a vast circle watching the Earl and Countess perform an old-fas.h.i.+oned minuet. It should have been charming, a delight to see, but John felt quite repelled by the expressions on their faces. St Austell's smile seemed cruel and rapacious; Miranda's was so demure that it could not be believed. Their dance ended to polite applause and then the whole room began to form into sets as Cuthbert shouted out the names of the dances, then partic.i.p.ated himself, his partner being the listless Maud. Robin Sidmouth meanwhile whirled about with a lovely local la.s.s a though his smiles were reserved for her brother, John could not help but notice.

The dancing was eventually broken up by the bride being taken upstairs to her chamber, her attendant females giggling girlishly. Somehow or other Miranda managed to manufacture a deep blush which she made sure the a.s.sembled company could see. The bridegroom, attended by a motley selection of elderly rakes, followed shortly afterwards. John turned to Elizabeth, having no wish to see the grand bedding.

*I feel like another drink. What about you, my dear?'

*An excellent plan indeed.'

They wandered back into the Grand Saloon, where many of the other guests had already foregathered, the orchestra taking a well-earned break. The sun was beginning to set over the sea and the very first candles were being lit in the room, giving it a soft and glowing and highly atmospheric feel. Leaving Elizabeth talking John went over to the long doors and looked out at the dying day, gazing out towards the sea as was his habit. And then he saw her. Just for a split second he could have sworn that an old woman in a poke bonnet stepped out from behind a tree and stared towards him, then in the blink of an eye was gone.

The thrill of horror that the Apothecary experienced was indescribable. The creature he had glimpsed had been exactly as Rose had described. He stood stock still, chilled to his soul with fear. Elizabeth came to join him.

*John, what's the matter? You look as if you've seen a ghost.'

*I think I just have.'

But further conversation was impossible for, with a great whoop of triumph, carried shoulder high by his ancient cronies, the bridegroom re-entered the room. John realized that quite a time must have pa.s.sed because the Earl was now arrayed in a scarlet robe with a matching turban placed upon his head.

*Well?' called Lord George, his grandson.

*Very well indeed,' called back the disgusting old man. *Miranda has just parted with her most precious gift.'

There was a roar of truly raucous laughter in which the Apothecary did not join, and the Earl of St Austell was placed in the bridegroom's chair by his cheering supporters.

*Here's to your health, Sir,' somebody shouted, and the company raised their gla.s.ses.

At a nudge from Elizabeth John did likewise, and then his eyes were drawn to the windows once more. For there, etched against the dying sun, stood that terrible figure he had seen before. He was paralysed with fear, and then in his head he heard Rose's voice: *Lie flat.'

Pulling Elizabeth down with him, he headed for the floor.

*What . . .' she began.

But he silenced her by putting his hand over her mouth. All around them they could hear the cheers of the wedding guests at the bridegroom's triumph and then they heard a woman's voice turn from a laugh to a terrible scream. This was followed by the sound of shots, two at a time, several of them. And then there was an unnatural quiet.

Very slowly, the Apothecary peered over the edge of the tablecloth. He took in several things at once. First of all there were two old women, both of their faces hidden by those hideous bonnets. They were firing double-barrelled pistols and as one reloaded the other fired. The guests were falling slowly, like leaves, and he could only guess at the number of dead and wounded. Sensing a movement at his end of the table, one of the crones turned and fired straight at him. Momentarily the bonnet tipped back and John had the impression of a face, a face that gave him the feeling he had seen it somewhere before. But like a dream the memory was gone as quickly as it had come. John feigned death as the bullet whistled straight past his ear and into the floor. He felt Elizabeth do the same and they both lay still as corpses until eventually the firing stopped.

*Happy wedding day, my Lord,' one of them shrieked in eldritch tones, then there was the sound of the French doors being thrown open and running feet.

n.o.body stirred. There was absolute stillness. It was just as if the two old women had murdered everyone in the room. And then there came a little sound from the doorway. John cautiously opened one eye and without turning his head peered in the direction from which the noise came. All he could see was a pair of men's shoes, extremely high heeled. So Robin Sidmouth had at least escaped.