He was going to go through with it.
The baskets, along with a few blankets, had been delivered to the foyer. Mr. White, dressed in a country suit, was already gathering one of the baskets up to carry, while Lady Caroline flirted with St. John.
Rhoda arrived behind them and scowled at St. John’s attentiveness to the other lady. Sophia knew Rhoda was confused and angry, but for all of her own anxieties, could barely register the hurt in Rhoda’s eyes.
Her own terror, yes terror, was so great that she later would not remember a single word spoken as they strolled along the path toward the beach. Mr. White offered Rhoda his free arm, and the three couples seemingly meandered aimlessly toward the cliffs.
Of course, nothing was being done aimlessly.
Even St. John had a determination about him.
They would not hike down to the beach.
No, of course not.
The plan was to take the alternate path, the one which just a few weeks before had been overgrown and unused.
Avoiding the area near the cave, Harold and Sophia led the group to the overlook, near the drop-off into the sea.
It was precisely where they’d planned to set up the picnic.
Playing hostess, Sophia mechanically distributed breads and cheeses and wine. The sun shone perfectly from above, and waves could be heard crashing into the rocks below.
Lady Caroline was shameless with St. John, preening and smoothing out her skirts on the same blanket as he. Mr. White was polite and considerate with Rhoda, but Rhoda had gone quiet. All in all, the luncheon began uncomfortably.
But that they knew how it would end…
If only it didn’t have to end.
If only time could stand still.
But of course, it did not. The wine was drunk, the food consumed, and sighs of satiation mingled in between the occasional conversation.
And then it was to begin.
After eating, as designed, Harold rose to his feet and began shuffling around. He looked so very natural, but Sophia knew better.
He threw a few rocks off the edge of the cliff in something of a restless manner.
She was supposed to tell him to please be careful.“Stay back from the cliff, Harold,”she was supposed to say.
But she was unable to speak because once she said those words she knew, she knew, the sequence of events would be set into motion.
Once spoken, she could not take back the words that were to be Harold’s cue.
“Stay back from the cliff, Lord Harold!” It was Rhoda, not Sophia, who set things in motion.
But Harold acted upon them as though Sophia had given the order. He walked up to the edge.
“It is not so steep,” he said. And then he made some silly falling motions with his arms.
“Don’t scare the ladies, Harold,” Mr. White admonished him. “It isn’t kind to give your new wife such a fright.
And then Mr. White glanced over at Sophia and winked. He was a kind and attractive gentleman.
But St. John goaded his brother. “Harold won’t go near the edge. He’s always been afraid of heights.”
St. John knew!
