Matthew stood and fumed but had no response. Then, taking a leaf from his sister’s book, he stormed from the room. Lady Marishka gave me a smile of deep satisfaction and took another swig from her flask. There seemed nothing else for it, but I followed out after him, confirming, I suppose, the relationship I had with Matthew. Only Alice now remained in the room with her two aunts.
“Two Hooded Monks,” said Aunt Sissy as I left the room. “I wonder what that could mean. Nothing good, I’m sure. And don’t do that, Albert dear. It’s ungodly and stains the sofa.”
* * * *
I ran into the hall. I didn’t have far to go; Matthew had only reached the foot of the stairs. He was still red-faced and angry. One hand clutched at the top of the newel post, its top carved into the shape of a bishop’s mitre
