“Howard is now a lecturer at the London University,” Lauraadded.
“What do you teach, Professor Farmer?” Doraasked.
“The Classics.”
Laura sighed inwardly as Dora’s eyes brightened. “You must come to my Thursday soirée. I promise you will meet some interesting people, Professor.”
Howard raised a sandy eyebrow and met Laura’s gaze. He was waiting for her to sanction it. “Yes, please do come,” she said. She could hardly sayotherwise.
The rain grew heavier. Dora gave him her address, and they said hasty goodbyes. Howard strode off in the opposite direction, while Laura and her aunt approached the steps leading to the museum.
Laura shook her umbrella in the foyer. The last time she’d seen Howard was the day he’d come to her home to play tennis. She’d been embarrassed when her parents made their disapproval of him evident. “I would prefer him not to come.”
“I don’t see why. He’s an interesting man. You must have a lot in common.”
“We did, once.”
Laura had to admit she would like to learn more about his new position. As long as he didn’t ask too many questions abouther.
On Thursday, guests packed into Dora’s rooms for her soirée. The parlor was filled with the mingled odors of wet woolens, human sweat, coal fire and pipesmoke.
Conversation became a dull roar in Laura’s ears and her head spun. “Heavens.” She put a hand to her forehead. “Whatever is the matter with me?”
The maid opened the door to yet another visitor. As Howard Farmer walked into the room, his gaze settled on Laura. He nodded to her with a smile and made his way over to greet Dora.
Moments later, looking concerned, he came to where Laura stood, her hand on the back of a chair. “You look very pale. Are you well, Laura?”
Laura smiled wanly. “It’s a bit airless in here.” Black spots danced before her eyes. “I’m afraid…” she murmured, as darkness closed overher.
When she opened her eyes, she was in Howard’s arms, the rough wool of his coat against hercheek.
Dora tutted behind them as he carried her into the front hall. “You need fresh air.”
“Please put me down.”
Howard set her on her feet but still held her, his arm around her waist to support her as she tried to gain herbalance.
The maid rushed to answer the doorbell. On the doorstep, Nathaniel looked up from removing his gloves. Within the confines of Howard’s arms, Laura gazed into her husband’s eyes, which were as cold as the granite walls ofWolfram.
***
Laura moved her head restlessly on the pillow. Across from her, too far away for comfort, Nathaniel sprawled in a chair. His eyes were no longer like stone; they now held a dangerous light. “Dora told me you’ve been ill.”
She smiled, her pulse beating fast at the sight of him. “I was faint earlier, but I’m much recovered. Just a slight headache.”
“Then you can tell me who that man is who so thoughtfully assisted you.”
“Dora invited How…Professor Farmer.” She rubbed her brow. “We ran into him on the way to the museum—”
“He is an acquaintance of yours?” Nathaniel’s voice was icily polite.
“We met at Cambridge. He wasn’t a professor then.”
He gave her a dark look. “You’ve met him socially since?”
Laura chewed her lip. “Only once. We played tennis at my home. Before I met you.”
His dark eyebrows rose. “That is all?”
