Sweet Poison by David Roberts

watching from somewhere other.’
    The Bishop hardly took in what the General had said to him because at that moment the Duke moved into the hall and they saw through the open door the dirty, dishevelled figures of Lord Edward Corinth and Verity Browne.
    ‘Well,’ said the Duke when he had heard Verity’s story and tut-tutted over his younger brother’s stupidity, ‘I suppose I must not grumble. At least you are safe, Ned.’
    Everyone had seated themselves or stood around the dining-table with no other thought but to be near enough to Verity and Edward to hear the story they had to tell. When the company had returned to the dining-room after greeting the late arrivals the Duke dropped back wearily into his great carver and made Verity and Edward sit on either side of him. Von Friedberg, who obviously had an eye for a pretty girl, sat himself next to Verity and beside him was Larmore who seemed to be surreptitiously trying to get the German’s attention, but Friedberg was intent on charming Verity and would not respond even when Larmore touched him on the sleeve. Beside him sat the General with Hermione Weaver standing at his shoulder, which seemed to be making him uneasy. Perhaps he was thinking that she should not be standing while he was seated or perhaps having her at his elbow made him feel claustrophobic.
    On the other side of the table all eyes were on Verity, which she obviously enjoyed. Beside Edward, Weaver listened intently as if she were one of his reporters and next to him the Bishop was feeling the effects of the wine. The latter was attempting to disguise his condition from his wife, who had sat down beside him, by staring across at Verity. Blanche and Connie sat themselves at the end of the table opposite the Duke, Connie only too aware that her husband was not pleased to have women invade that holiest time when the men communed with their port. On the other hand, Edward and Verity’s arrival had delighted her. It had given her an excuse for giving up the stilted conversation she was making with Honoria and Celia Larmore, aware out of the corner of her eye that Blanche and Hermione were quarrelling about something in whispers over by the French windows.
    ‘Miss Browne,’ said Friedberg gallantly when Verity paused to draw breath, ‘you tell us you write for Country Life . It is, you must believe me, a pleasure to meet you.’ He made her a small bow from his chair. ‘I also read the Country Life . It is sent to me at my castle in Bavaria.’
    Verity looked a little sheepish, perhaps feeling she had made too great claims for herself. ‘Oh yes, I am writing some articles for them on life in grand and beautiful houses. The Duchess has very kindly agreed to show me round the castle tomorrow.’
    ‘That is good. It is a very splendid house.’ He looked slyly at the Duke. ‘They call it a castle but if you wish to see real castles you must visit Germany. Yes,’ he said, intoxicated by the wine and the pleasure of having beside him a young and attractive woman instead of these old men who seemed to distrust him, ‘you must visit me at Schloss Hertzberg, my family seat.’
    He smiled roguishly at Verity which made her want to laugh. He was being so charming but it was all wasted on her. He was quite the chevalier, he thought. He put out his hand as if he might seize Verity’s and kiss it. He withdrew it suddenly. He had caught sight of the General’s face which seemed to be contorted with an effort not to laugh. He was outraged. How dare this old man who had killed so many of his countrymen laugh at him. He got up and his chair, unbalanced by the suddenness of his movement, fell backwards. For a moment everyone stared at the German but then they became conscious that the General was not laughing. He was making terrible gasping noises and pulling feebly at his necktie. He began to sway from side to side as though he were attempting to release himself from someone’s grasp.
    ‘What the deuce . . .