Heaven And Hell novel Chapter 113

Olivia practically looked like she was resisting the urge to do an Irish jig then and there.

"He didn't," Lady C declared airily. "Although, he just gave me a fine idea."

As Margaret Cutting had previously believed, she was marvellous when it came to mind games and manipulation. She could do verbal swordplay and play mental chess around an unfortunate person she saw fit to torture, yet she knew she couldn't be cruel to any of her family members. Not really. She might have done several ridiculous schemes -- and they'd all worked rather soundly, to be quite honest -- but she'd done them because she truly cared, even though no one believed she had a kind bone in her erect body.

And Olivia Mathison...Marge smiled slowly. Now that young lady was a surprise, indeed. There Marge was, worrying about her nephew because his time was running out, and she had to look for someone for him...then this slip of a girl had practically landed at Colton's feet -- literally -- a week earlier and made it all so much easier! She couldn't believe her luck when she also saw how true Olivia was, without artifice nor malice. She would be perfect for Colton! Although the two were not in perfect accord, completely muleheaded, and blind to see how they would be brilliant together, Marge knew it wasn't long before they would fall in love, just like Michael and Keller.

The door clicked open and Lady Portia Cutting walked gracefully toward Marge's seated form in the rose salon at Rossington Park, with its original rococo style and embellished gold furniture that bended in peacock feathers, and beautiful Persian carpets lining the wide wooden flooring.

"So lovely to see you, Margaret," Portia greeted with a smile, seating herself perpendicular to her cousin-in-law.

Marge smiled and offered her a spot of tea that rested on top of the priceless coffee table. "You know I always love having you for tea, Portia."

"And I you. But spit it out, Marge." She fluttered her hand that didn't hold her teacup, and looked meaningfully at her dear friend. "You know that I know you're up to something, and it truly has been a while since I've seen you in action regarding one of your harebrained schemes. You ratted yourself out by asking me to call Laura Beaufort."

Marge blinked at Portia, then her eyes glinted in amusement. Portia was more gentle and motherly of the two, but she knew the woman was more than softness and light. Portia certainly was no ninny, that was for sure.

"Quite right, my friend," Marge admitted, shrugging. "What better way to set my plan in motion than to let BBC News's Laura Beaufort announce this delicious piece of information to all of Britain?"

"No doubt throughout the world soon enough," Portia mused, sniffing delicately.

"Hmmm, yes, but let's leave that to our news friends, shall we?"

Portia pointed a finger at her and raised an eyebrow. "You're very lucky Laura's my goddaughter and loves me dearly, then."

"Very, very lucky."

"Good God!" Marge exclaimed. "Portia, do something, now."

Portia stared at the mobile, dumbfounded, then at her cousin-in-law. She knew she shouldn't have agreed to Arthur's persuasions to get her this piece of miserable device! How would she even...

Slide to accept, it read, glowing before them. Then she muttered it out loud for good measure. She leaned over, just as Margaret did, then she poked the mobile.

Nothing.

"Slide it, slide it," Marge urged.

She swiped at the thing and let it slide across the floor, which made a resounding thud onto the carpet. The music ended, which led them to believe Laura was on the other line.