Page 6 of Peril in Piccadilly
“Nothing happened. He offered me a ring, and I had to say no.”
He looked blank. “You did?”
“I don’t fancy moving to Germany with him.”
“You don’t?”
“Of course I don’t,” I said. “Whatever gave you the idea that I would want to leave England?”
“The fact that he proposed and you accepted,” Crispin answered. “The fact that you seem to like him rather a lot. The fact that you’re always?—”
“Shut it, Crispin” Christopher interrupted from the doorway to the kitchenette, where he was leaning waiting for the water to boil again. Crispin looked offended, but obeyed.
“Go back, Pippa,” Christopher added. “He offered you a ring?”
I nodded. “A very nice ring, too. A big emerald flanked by baguette-cut diamonds and small sapphires.”
“And you turned it down.” It wasn’t a question. There was clearly no question-mark at the end of the sentence.
I shrugged, and Christopher arched his brows. Before he could speak again, however, Crispin opened his mouth.
“You broke off the engagement.” There was an expression halfway between triumph and incredulity on his face.
“No,” I said. I’d never actually been engaged in the first place. Not officially. There had been no ring, not until this evening, and no notice in theLondon Times, unlike when Crispin’s engagement to Laetitia was announced. So it had never been official.
“But you don’t want to go to Germany with him.”
I shook my head. “I don’t. There’s still the possibility that he’ll stay in London, of course. And if so, I’ll reconsider the ring.”
“It’s none of your concern anyway, Crispin,” Christopher reminded him as he placed a cup and saucer on the table in front of Crispin and lifted the brandy bottle questioningly. “You’re engaged to the lovely Laetitia, remember? If you wanted a say in Pippa’s future, you should have done something about it before now. Would you like a splash of this?”
“Yes, please.” Crispin waited until the brandy was in the tea and the bottle back on the table, before he lifted the cup and saucer and took a sip. “Thank you, Kit.”
“Don’t mention it.” Christopher sank down on the Chesterfield again, and crossed one elegant leg over the other. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
Crispin leaned back and made himself comfortable, as well. “Well, I saw Philippa tear out of the Criterion like the hounds of hell were on her heels, and I thought I’d see what the problem was.”
“There’s no problem,” I said.
He twitched an eyebrow. “Just a broken engagement and a breach of promise suit.”
“I already told you,” I said severely, “there is no broken engagement and certainly no breach of promise. Not unless you’ve decided to call off your arrangement with Laetitia on the strength of it, and she decided to come after you.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be so stupid.”
No, of course he wouldn’t.
“I wanted to go after you,” he added, “to make certain you were all right, just so you know.”
“Laetitia wouldn’t let you,” Christopher asked, “I suppose?”
Crispin made a face. “Of course not. By the time she had made that clear, Wolfie had settled the bill and left, too. And at that point, there was no sense in me going.”
“He left, as well, did he? Immediately after Pippa?”
Crispin nodded, and I said, “What are you on about now, Christopher?”
“Bear with me a moment, Pippa. Perhaps it was Wolfgang who followed you into the underground and shoved you down the stairs.”
