Death and the Black Pyramid Read Online Free PDF Page B

farewell with a sorrowful look in her brilliant eyes.
    â€˜Goodbye, Mr Rawlings. How sad that our journey should have ended so horribly.’
    â€˜ Au revoir , Miss Lovell. Try not to think about it too much.’
    â€˜I’ll do my best, Sir.’ And giving his hand a squeeze, she had disappeared down the length of the High Street.
    John, having been given a leg-up onto the grey horse, spoke to it as they rode out of the town.
    â€˜Now, my friend, I want a nice easy ride, do you understand. No funny tricks or rearing up. Just take me at a reasonable pace to Lady Elizabeth’s and you shall be rewarded with a nice loose box and a bag of hay.’
    The horse twitched its ears and plodded forward, leaving the city behind and following the line of the river Exe. John decided to go along the riverbank, which was pleasant in the September sunshine, but when it came to the high hill on the top of which Elizabeth’s beautiful house was situated the horse refused to budge a step. In the end the Apothecary was forced to dismount and lead the beast upwards by its reins, puffing and panting as he did so. By the time he reached the lodge gates he was thoroughly out of breath and dishevelled into the bargain. Glad that he hadn’t worn a wig and that his hair was tied back in a queue, John mopped his face.
    The lodge keeper was new and looked at him with a certain suspicion. ‘Can I help you, Sir?’
    â€˜I have come to see Lady Elizabeth di Lorenzi.’
    â€˜Do you have an appointment?’
    â€˜No, not exactly. She wrote and asked me to visit. I am an old friend.’
    â€˜I see. Well if you go up to the big house you can enquire there whether she is in.’
    â€˜Thank you,’ John answered crisply, and feeling that he had done his duty by the horse, remounted and urged it up the curving, uphill drive.
    As he rode the last few yards, the house now in sight, his throat went dry and he felt as nervous as a schoolboy. The last time he had been there had been in the spring of this year and Elizabeth had not been at home, gone to Bath for the sake of her health, or so he had been informed. He had taken that as her way of telling him that she had no further wish to see him. He recalled the time he had proposed to her and how she had turned to look at him, her long black hair blowing about her face. He also remembered her refusal, saying she preferred a life alone even though she was fond of him. She could hurt him, there was no doubting that. And yet out of a clear blue sky she had written to him, asking him to come to her, informing him that she had something of interest to tell him. Wondering what on earth it could be, John dismounted at the front door and handing the horse over to an hostler, mounted the six steps which led up to it.
    A footman answered the bell and fortunately recognized John from the past.
    â€˜Ah, Mr Rawlings, Sir. Is my lady expecting you?’
    â€˜Yes and no. She wrote and asked me to visit her and here I am. But I didn’t inform her of the date of my arrival.’
    â€˜I see. Would you like to wait in the parlour and I will see if she is at home.’
    John stepped into the vast reception hall and gazed upwards. There, painted high above his head, was a representation of Britannia waving a spear. Smiling indulgently he traversed the large space, following the footman, and was shown into a small parlour leading off the Blue Drawing-room. His mind wandered over the difference in their stations in life. She had been born a daughter of the nobility, he the bastard child of one of the Rawlings family of Twickenham. She had married an Italian nobleman and had lived a wild and dangerous life. He had qualified as an apothecary and had found his excitement through working with Sir John Fielding. At that moment John realized with a horrible clarity that he could never offer Elizabeth the life to which she had been used and that he may as well leave now.
    There was