Todd, Charles by A Matter of Justice Read Free Book Online Page A

difficulty, then shoved his crutches under his arms with the ease of habit. "Let's start rounding up the guests."
    In a flurry of farewells, Elise collected her family and friends and set out for Dunster. Edgar watched them go, the headlamps of the convoy of cars twisting and turning down the road.
    "You didn't wish Mrs. Channing a good night. Not that I saw."
    "I'll see her tomorrow and apologize profusely."
    "You're incorrigible, my friend. Hammond will snap her up if you don't."
    Laughing, they went up to bed.
     
    The wedding was held in St. George's, a small gem that had once been part of a long-vanished priory before becoming a parish church. It boasted a magnificent wagon roof and what was said to be the longest rood screen in England, but all eyes were on the bride as she walked down the aisle. Photographs of the wedding party were taken in what had once been the Prior's Garden, and there was a breakfast, and music, but not for dancing, in The Luttrell Arms, across from the Yarn Market. A quartet played softly in the background, and the cake was a masterpiece of culinary art. On the top sat an elegant sugar swan, wings spread wide and a ribbon in its beak bearing the names of the bride and groom in gold lettering. Rutledge, seated next to Edgar, led the toasts, and then as the conversation grew more general, discovered that Elise's father was a longtime friend of his godfather, David Trevor, who lived now in Scotland.
    "Wonderful architect," Caldwell said. "It's a pity that he retired so early. But then I understand—I also lost a son in the war. Elise's middle brother. Not something you get over, is it?"
    "No, sir, it isn't. Have you also retired?"
    "To my sorrow, no. I advise people on how to invest their money. And they won't hear of my giving it up." Caldwell smiled. "The day will come, inevitably. I expect I shall have to ease them into accepting it. My wife is eager for me to grow roses and spend more time with her." He made a face. "I'd much rather fish, you know. I'm an angler by nature, not a gardener."
    In the early afternoon, the bridal pair set off on their wedding trip. Edgar drove, waving gaily to guests as he and Elise bounced over the cobbles and turned beyond the castle. The motorcar had been modified so that he could manage. It was, he'd told Rutledge, a matter of pride. Once out of sight, Elise would take the wheel for the rest of their journey.
    The remaining guests left the inn in the next hour, many of them on their way back to London, and Rutledge found himself face-to-face with Meredith Channing as she came to say good-bye. They had been thrown together often during the morning, and Rutledge had to admit that he'd enjoyed her company.
    "Safe journey," he said, and she nodded.
    "Same to you. I'm driving with friends. We ought to make good time. That was a lovely toast you proposed to the bride and groom. You have a way with words."
    "Thank you. It was heartfelt."
    "Yes, Edgar was touched. It was good to see you again, Ian." She offered her hand, and he took it. They shook briefly, and then she was gone, leaving an unexpected emptiness behind her.
    Rutledge told himself it was because everyone else had left, and the day that had begun with such glorious sunshine for the wedding was now changing.
    He turned to say good-bye to Elise's parents as they followed the last of the guests out the door. Caldwell clapped him on the shoulder and said, "If you're in the City, stop in."
    "I will, sir. Thank you."
    And then he was back at the house on the hill, where the view was magnificent and his footsteps echoed through the rooms. The ghosts of laughter and excitement and happy voices made the silence seem almost ominous, and he shrugged off the sudden upsweep of melancholy.
    He spent the next hour clearing away, as Edgar had asked him to do, preparing to close up the house before he left in the morning. And then he sat on the terrace to watch the sun set behind a bank of clouds. Restless, he was in no mood