Page 17 of The Locked Room

If Percy was put out, he didn’t show it. ‘Perhaps later,’ he said, and gave Harry a look that left her in no doubt that he would make good on the suggestion. With a nod, he turned and made his way back through the tables, just as the waiter returned with a fresh tablecloth. Once it was smoothed into place, Albert ushered them back into their seats but before Harry could move, she realised Louisa was beside her. ‘Watch yourself with that one,’ the other woman breathed in her ear. ‘He’s not what he seems.’

Startled, Harry turned to stare at her, but Louisa’s face was all smiles as she waved her forward. ‘After you, Hortensia.’

Harry retook her seat, watching as Louisa slid next to Seb once more, beaming as though she did not have a care in the world. Had her warning been about Percy, Harry wondered? But of course it had – who else could she have been referring to? It echoed something Oliver had once said, along such similar lines that it might almost have been the exact same sentence. But what had prompted Louisa to offer such a warning, and to a virtual stranger? What might she know that Harry did not? More importantly, what did Oliver know?

‘Let me top up your glass,’ Seb said, reaching for Louisa’s empty flute. ‘You’d barely sipped from the last one.’

Louisa’s giggling protests washed over Harry as she scanned the crowd, searching for Beth. She couldn’t allow Louisa’s whispered warning to distract her. With luck, Beth might have found Serafina, or at least be on her trail, and they would be one step closer to uncovering the truth about her attachment to Rufus. She ought to wait for Beth to return but she was suddenly overcome by a wave of impatience.

‘Will you excuse me?’ she said brightly, turning to Seb and Louisa. ‘I think I see Lizzie waving over there.’

Her brother got to his feet. ‘Of course.’

She felt Louisa’s dark-eyed gaze following her as she left the table and wondered whether she suspected Harry might be going in search of Percy. Purposefully, she took a route that gave his table a wide berth, although she did pause to greet a number of other acquaintances as she made her way across the room. It was only when she had circumvented the dance floor and reached the far side that she was forced to concede she had no idea where Beth was. She’d been hoping to locate her as she walked but there had been no sign of her. What was more, she couldn’t see a sign for the ladies’ room, where she might at least gather her thoughts away from the heat and smoke and relentless thump of the music. Glancing around, she caught sight of a pair of doors in one corner. Like all the others she had seen since arriving outside, these were unmarked and offered no clue to what lay beyond them, but she couldn’t see any other possibilities and her head was starting to ache. Grateful that they appeared to be unguarded, at least for the moment, she pushed against the wood and was relieved to discover they were not locked. A moment later, she was in another corridor, although this one was not quite as drab and threadbare as the one downstairs. The doors closed behind her, cutting off the trumpets. There were no scarlet lampshades here – the bulb over her head gave off a feeble yellow glow, creating puddles of shadow where the light did not reach. The air was not cool, but it was fresher than inside the club, and she was alone. Taking a deep breath, she hurried forward. The hallway split, one strand leading to a staircase, the other winding past into murky gloom, ending in what looked like another door. Recalling Seb’s description of the chambers upstairs, Harry made for the door. To her relief, it led to a bathroom, one with a single cubicle and a cracked sink below a tarnished mirror. It did not appear to be meant for the use of guests but Harry did not care. She turned the cold tap and was rewarded with a gush of icy water, which she gratefully allowed to splash across her wrists. In the mirror, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes too bright. Her blonde curls were limp; one had stuck to her forehead and she teased it free, patting her skin with now cool hands. She was in no danger, beyond having slipped into an area of the nightclub she was not meant to explore, and yet her heart was thudding. The frenzied extravagance of the club must be getting to her, she decided. The sooner she found Beth, the better.

In the corridor once more, Harry paused at the bottom of the stairs. Nothing could be heard above the insistent melody from beyond the double doors but that didn’t mean anything. She was starting to suspect the club was a labyrinth of hallways and corridors that snaked across more than one building, any one of which might lead her to something she would rather not see. And yet Beth was here somewhere. Could she have gone up these stairs? Gritting her teeth, Harry was about to begin the climb when the double doors opened and someone slipped through.

Harry froze. She wasn’t doing anything wrong – she could explain. All she had to do was widen her eyes and confess herself lost.

‘My dear Miss White.’ Percy’s drawl rang with wry surprise. ‘Whatever are you doing out here?’

She turned, relieved it was not the gorilla-like doorman they had met on the way in. ‘I was looking for the powder room, of course,’ she said, hoping she sounded more composed than she felt.

Percy’s eyes crinkled in amusement as he came nearer. ‘You won’t find it up there. Come, I’ll show you the way.’

There was nothing for Harry to do but agree, although the realisation rankled. She had no evidence that Beth was in any of the rooms upstairs, but she couldn’t eliminate the possibility unless she looked. Unfortunately, there was no way to do that without arousing Percy’s suspicions. Stepping back down, she dredged up a smile. ‘Would you? That would be awfully kind.’

‘Not at all. I wouldn’t expect someone as refined as you to understand, but not everyone in a place like this has your best interests at heart.’ He paused to glance down at her. ‘I’d hate for you to run into anyone… unsavoury.’

Louisa’s warning floated into Harry’s mind. ‘Goodness,’ she exclaimed, fluttering her hands in what she prayed was a convincing display of alarm. ‘Are the newspapers to be believed? Are there really dangerous criminals here?’

Percy’s expression was unreadable and she thought for a heart-stopping moment she had overdone the panic in her voice. But a moment later, he smiled. ‘There’s danger everywhere, especially after dark.’ He slid a chivalrous hand beneath the crook of her elbow, steering her gently back towards the doors. ‘Best not to seek it out alone.’

Something in his voice sent a shiver of unease racing along her spine. Both Oliver and Seb had been insistent the Hot Spot was no place for a woman on her own. Had she sent Beth into harm’s way? ‘Would I truly be in peril if I went up those stairs?’

‘Not physically, perhaps,’ he said, shrugging. ‘But morally? Who knows?’

The anxious clench of her stomach lessened a little. ‘I see.’

‘Then again, you’ve always struck me as the kind of woman who isn’t afraid to take a calculated risk when the opportunity presents itself.’ The smile he flashed her way managed to be flirtatious and unsettling at the same time. ‘It’s part of what makes you so fascinating.’

Harry thought he must be able to hear the sudden hammering of her heart. ‘What have I ever done to make you think that?’

‘Nothing at all,’ he said. ‘But I can’t shake the feeling all the same. The trouble is, Oliver Fortescue is determined to prevent me from confirming my theory.’

‘That’s not true,’ she protested, although it sounded unconvincing even to her own ears. Oliver had made it clear he did not trust Percy and he would be glowering like a demon if he could see her now.

They reached the double doors. Percy’s black hair was tinged with gold beneath the glow of the light bulb as he turned Harry to face him. ‘The last time I stayed at Abinger Hall, I made the egregious error of not kissing you when I had the chance. Do you remember?’

Her mouth suddenly dry, Harry nodded. He was close enough for the scent of cigar smoke and cologne to fill her nostrils. ‘Yes.’

A soft smile curved his lips. ‘I never make the same mistake twice.’

She should pull away, a distant voice was urging, or tell him she did not want to be kissed. But another, more treacherous part of her was observing that would be a lie. Because his assessment of her was not wrong – she was not afraid to take risks. She revelled in making her own choices, enjoyed the freedom that came from weighing up the odds and deciding for herself whether the risk was worth the reward. And kissing Percy Finchem felt very risky indeed.

There was a loud crash as the door at the top of the stairs banged against the wall. Two women came into view, causing Harry to take a hurried step away from Percy. One was tall and slender, dressed in the style of a dance hostess, beads shimmering dully as she descended. Her blonde hair was plastered to her head in the style of an American gangster’s moll. She was, Harry thought, very pretty. The other woman was also tall, but she wore a long satin gown in peacock blue and her dark hair was sleekly styled into a bun. Neither did more than glance incuriously at Harry and Percy as they swept by, their gaze passing over them as though they were pieces of furniture. Seconds later, they had disappeared through the doors.

Harry let out a shaky breath. ‘I think I’d like to go back to my brother now.’