Read Online Mad About the Boy? by Dolores Gordon-Smith - Free Book Online Page B

business associate of Lyvenden’s, Alfred,’ said Sir Philip rigidly. ‘He is just leaving.’
    Charnock grinned, and walked to the front door, barring the exit with his body. ‘Not so fast, Philip. I want to know who this chap is.’ Then, head to one side, he asked a question in what was, presumably, Russian.
    The man started, unfolded his arms and slowly nodded a reply.
    â€˜Well, well,’ drawled Charnock. He shot a glance at Lord Lyvenden, who had sunk on to a chair, before snapping out another question. The man nodded again.
    Charnock, who was obviously enjoying himself hugely, stepped back, his weight balanced on one foot.
    â€˜Alfred, don’t,’ said Lady Rivers, quickly.
    Charnock ignored her. With a lift of his eyebrows, he asked another question.
    The man gazed at Charnock as if not believing what he had heard. Charnock repeated himself, and, with a yell, the man lunged out. He grasped at Charnock, there was a flurry of movement, a yelp, and the Russian was left nursing his arm.
    Charnock laughed once more. That was a mistake. The Russian fumbled at his waist with his good hand and drew out a long-bladed knife. The crowd in the hall gasped and Mrs Strachan gave a little scream.
    Charnock backed off warily, and the Russian pounced.
    Haldean, Stanton and the other men leapt forward but Charnock was quicker. Like a striking cobra, he shot out his hand, seized the man’s wrist and twisted it upwards, the knife gleaming between them. For a few brief seconds they stood eye to eye, before Charnock, with a grunt, slammed the Russian’s arm behind his back, sending the knife clattering to the floor.
    â€˜Shall I break your arm?’ asked Charnock, a dangerous glint in his eye.
    The man stared at him, then came an interruption. The stairs out of the hall curved up to the corridor and from the corridor Malcolm Smith-Fennimore’s voice broke loudly into the tension.
    â€˜I don’t know, Lady Harriet,’ he was saying, ‘but there’s an awful rumpus going on. The funny thing is I thought I heard someone speaking in Russian. Good God!’ Preceded by Lady Harriet he rounded the stairs and they both stopped dead as they took in what was happening in the hall.
    â€˜Victor,’ called Lady Harriet, in a voice with an edge to it. ‘Who is that peculiar person?’
    Lyvenden stood up with an odd little bob and shuffle. ‘Just business, my dear, nothing but business. Nothing for you to worry about. I’ve got it all under control. It’s all under control. Totally under control.’
    The Russian stood absolutely still, staring up the stairs, then looked round with a triumphant smile. ‘So,’ he said eventually. ‘I learn something today. That alone was worth coming for.’ Still smiling, he walked over to where his knife lay and bent to pick it up. Charnock stuck his foot out and pinned it to the floor.
    The Russian straightened up and Charnock smiled back.
    â€˜Mine, I believe. I’d like a little souvenir of our meeting. Now, if you don’t mind, old man – or should that be comrade? – I really do think you’ve outstayed your welcome.’ He grasped the Russian’s shoulder and steered him firmly to the door, shutting it behind him.
    It was like a dam bursting. Everyone spoke at once. Unregarded, Smith-Fennimore came down the stairs into the hall and picked up the knife, turning it over in his hands. As Charnock came back from the door, he handed it over with a few words that were not English.
    Charnock took the knife with a look of surprise. ‘I didn’t know you spoke Russian.’
    Smith-Fennimore nodded. ‘Why did you ask him if he was one of the Chërnye Sotni? That’s a pretty deadly insult. You might have known it would stir him up.’
    Charnock straightened his cuffs. ‘Yes, it did rather, didn’t it?’ he drawled.
    Haldean looked at Aunt Alice’s white face.