The Toast of the Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book III)

Not to Alarm You, But...

Imogen chatted with Petra for a few minutes, while the latter arranged and rearranged a tall stack of books that she was taking with her on their trip. The ones Petra was leaving for Imogen's TBR pile were mostly on the history of Fleckney and architecture, since Petra seemed to be convinced that the Reliquary had been relocated during one of the times when the Hall had been renovated in the past.

Soon, the Titan, Petra, and Imogen were standing in the entrance hall, and the Titan helped Petra with her coat.

"Albert is driving us to London," the Titan said.

Imogen could see his black Royce outside, and the chauffeur who was loading luggage into the boot. Suddenly Fellowes showed up from a corridor, carrying a small suitcase. She looked uneasy, which was rather shocking to one's senses, considering the woman's normal unwavering, frosty demeanour.

"Have a good evening, Ms. Fox. I'll take my luggage outside, sir," Fellowes muttered and dashed by them to the door.

Imogen stared after the woman in bewilderment.

"Fellowes will return tomorrow afternoon," the Titan explained lazily. "Her sister is ill, and we offered to give Fellowes a lift. I'm afraid we're flustering her beyond measure. She is rather old-fashioned when it comes to upstairs-downstairs relationships."

Petra giggled and patted his chest. "Look at you. Soon you'll be quoting the Plan of Ayala." She turned to Imogen. "Goodbye, Imogen! Please, write me an email or two, and I shall see you in a couple of weeks."

Before Imogen could understand what was happening, Petra squeezed her in a surprisingly crushing embrace and then bounced out of the door. The Titan followed her with an affectionate gaze. Imogen had never seen his face so soft and content.

"Ms. Fox," he said and slowly turned to her. "May I ask you for a favour? I promised Tommy's mother that I would keep the details of her personal life, especially its later circumstances, a secret. I suppose she didn't want Tommy and Di to judge her. I felt it was alright to share my story with you, but I have to keep my promise. Tommy shouldn't find out."

Imogen frowned and fidgeted with her engagement ring, which was becoming quite a habit.

"I won't tell him anything," she said. "And your history with my Mother is your private matter. But you should consider telling John what happened to Mrs. Oakby and about her last days. I think it would make him quite relieved to know she was happy at the end."

The Titan studied her face pensively, and then sighed. "I haven't thought of it this way, I must admit."

"I just know that he wouldn't judge her at all," Imogen said with conviction. "And after just one open conversation with you, it's obvious to me that you were very fond of her. You're still wearing her ring." Imogen pointed at his left hand with her eyes. "The ruby ring you wear with your band. It's her family heirloom. It's listed among your property, and I'm the one dealing with your insurance paperwork," she explained. "If John knew more about your relationship with his Mother, it would help him to understand you more, to feel closer to you."

The Titan lowered his face, and Imogen heard a low velvet chuckle.

"I should've known from the start that you would be a disruptive influence on my family," he murmured, and then quickly looked up, flashing her a dashing, roguish smirk, which acutely reminded her that he was a relation of the Mayor's. "Soon enough you'll have us all talking about our feelings and getting along. What a nightmare!" He chuckled again. "I'll leave my house - and my son - in your capable hands, Ms. Fox. Have a good evening!"

And then he was gone, and the door closed behind him softly. Imogen huffed, shuffled her feet on his luxurious Persian carpet, and then reminded herself she had a thick manual to read. She needed to figure out the alarm and then, finally, go home and check on the Mayor. There were no messages in her phone, so she hoped he was peacefully asleep.