" He met his wife's eyes.
His expression soured; then half resentfully, he sought her
reassurance. "Have I been wrong? What if I've misread everyone's
loyalties? What if he has his own plan to spring on me tomorrow?"
A voice inside Greta's head roared No! No matter what Peter Jones
had up his sleeve - yes, certainly he had something - her
husband's well thought out plan was more powerful. It was too
late now, anyway, to start worrying about the enemy's strategy.
That she never seriously considered it probably meant that her
instincts about Peter were correct. He was blind to what was
coming.
"No sweetheart. Don't think that way." She gently pushed back
some hair from Matthew's forehead. "You're doing exactly the
right thing. And after tomorrow, everything will be fine."
He offered her a dim smile, then closed his eyes.
For the briefest instant there she had felt his need for her. It
had been so long since he'd called to her for help. However
cursory, she had served him nevertheless. And now it was her
turn, tit for tat. "Let's go for a walk down by the stables. What
do you say?" She grasped his hand as she rose.
Too weary to protest, he rose to his feet and let his wife lead
him off.
* * *
Walking into his home, Peter heard Ivy playing the grand piano in
the drawing room. She was singing softly, a verse he did not
recognize.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74