24 MarianneTuesday evening, Marianne lingered in the master suite until she heard the door to Nigel’s study click shut. He’d be tied up checking opening figures in the Asian stock markets for at least half an hour.
She could make a call without him interrogating her afterwards.
Hanging up the wool dress she’d worn to work, she donned a loose white silk caftan, slipped her phone into a pocket, and went downstairs to the kitchen.
Two inches of Merlot remained in the bottle they’d opened for dinner. She emptied it into a crystal wineglass and went to the living room. Using the remote, she closed the drapes and ignited the gas flames in the slate fireplace surround.
She settled herself on the soft couch cushions. Her embroidered slippers rested on the footstool she’d chosen because it was
