by Clara Benson
In the end all he could find with which to plight his troth was a gold propelling pencil that had been a present from an elderly aunt. She accepted it with an attempt at solemnity, but then at the look on his face she began to giggle and did not stop until he kissed her again. Then he got into the car and set off—very late now—with his head in a whirl, and it was presumably only by a miracle that he managed to get back to London without driving into a tree.
TWENTY-EIGHT
‘There you are,’ said Elisabeth, as Kathie entered the drawing-room some time later. ‘Wherever have you been?’
Kathie answered vaguely and sat down as though not quite certain of where she was.
‘I was just saying to Humphrey that we ought to invite Norman to dinner one day,’ went on Elisabeth. ‘Just to show everyone our feelings on the subject of this unpleasant business, and make it quite clear that we have no intention of shunning him.’
‘Oh,’ said Kathie. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea at all. You see, I’m getting married.’
The last words burst out of her as though she were unable to contain them any longer, and everyone looked up in surprise.
‘That is excellent news,’ said Humphrey in his usual pompous manner. ‘I must congratulate you.’
‘Well, thank goodness Norman has got to the point at last,’ said Elisabeth. ‘I was beginning to think he never would.’
‘He didn’t,’ said Kathie. ‘I’m not marrying him. I’m going to marry Inspector Jameson.’
‘Oh, how simply splendid!’ exclaimed Angela, clapping her hands together in delight.
‘Inspector Jameson?’ said Elisabeth in astonishment. ‘Are you quite sure?’
‘I think so,’ said Kathie. ‘He gave me a pencil.’
She began giggling, and Elisabeth glanced at Humphrey, who said:
‘Perhaps you ought to go and lie down, Kathie. I’m afraid this whole business has affected you badly.’
‘No, no it hasn’t,’ said Kathie. ‘In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt better in my life.’ She saw the blank faces around her, and said, ‘Perhaps it is rather sudden, and I don’t think I’ve quite taken it in myself, but you are pleased for me, aren’t you? You’ve wanted me to get married for such a long time, and now I am.’
‘Yes, but—we thought—I don’t—’ said Elisabeth, then gave up, momentarily nonplussed.
Humphrey stood up with great dignity.
‘Naturally, we want you to be happy, Kathie,’ he said, ‘but there are other considerations. This Jameson fellow—does he have any money? Can he support you and Peter?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea,’ said Kathie. ‘And to be perfectly honest, I don’t care.’
Humphrey drew himself up, and was about to hold forth when Angela decided to interject on Kathie’s behalf.
‘I know a little of his family,’ she said, ‘and I don’t think you need worry on that score, Humphrey. As a matter of fact, you yourself may know his brother Henry.’
‘The intelligence man?’ said Humphrey. ‘Oh, he’s from that family, is he?’ There was a moment of silence in which he mentally adjusted his ideas, then he went on, ‘Well, then—ahem—I think that will be quite acceptable.’
‘What will Peter say?’ said Elisabeth. ‘Do you think it’s quite fair on him?’
‘Peter is terribly excited,’ said Kathie. ‘Perhaps even more than I am. There’s no need for you to worry about him.’
Since all the material points seemed to have been dealt with for the present, Humphrey and Elisabeth subsided into temporary silence. They were not the sort of people who liked surprises, and it would take some time for them to get used to this one, but it was plain to see that Kathie had quite made her mind up, and so they resolved to make no more objections—at least until they had heard what Inspector Jameson had to say for himself.
Mrs. Randall then surprised everyone by congratulating her younger daughter.
‘I never liked that Tipping fellow,’ she said. ‘And if Angela says this Jameson is worth having, then we ought to believe her. Angela is a sport.’
Angela looked up in astonishment, and was almost certain she saw Mrs. Randall wink at her.
‘She most certainly is a sport,’ said Kathie. ‘Did you get the onions, by the way, Angela?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Angela, and they both laughed merrily.
‘Onions? What on earth are you talking about?’ said Elisabeth, but nobody replied.
Angela said, ‘Kathie, I’m so tremendously pleased for you both that I’m afraid I shall have to kiss you.’
She jumped up and suited the action to the word, and then for good measure kissed Elisabeth, Mrs. Randall and even Humphrey, who looked taken aback. Then Peter turned up and had to be kissed too, much to his disgust, and then tea arrived and the rest of the time until dinner was taken up with talk.
As she looked at Kathie’s beaming face, Angela smiled to herself. She was sincerely pleased for her and Inspector Jameson—they seemed eminently suited to each other and would no doubt settle down and be blissfully happy together—but she could not help sighing a little at the contrast between their future and her own. Her experience of marriage had not been a positive one, and perhaps it had spoiled her chances of happiness in love, for she seemed to make the most unsuitable choices in that regard. She could only assume that she was one of those women who were best off alone—and thank heaven at least that she was fortunate enough to have her own money and not to need a husband to support her. She looked wistfully down at her Venetian bracelet. It was an attractive but insubstantial thing—much like the man who had given it to her. She should wear it for a while and then put it away, perhaps to bring out and look at occasionally as a souvenir of a place to which she would never return. Angela sat for a moment in thought, and then shook herself. Today was a day for happiness and she would not become maudlin. She pushed the bracelet firmly up her sleeve and challenged Peter to a game of Snap.
On Tuesday Angela was to return to London, and so that morning she went down to breakfast promptly, determined to be punctual for at least one meal during her visit. When she went into the breakfast-parlour she found Humphrey sitting alone, reading his newspaper.
‘Good morning, Angela,’ he said. ‘And so today you leave us to return to the busy whirl of London.’
‘Yes,’ said Angela. ‘It’s been very good of you both to put up with me for so long.’
‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘I only hope you haven’t found it too dull.’
‘On the contrary, the whole visit has been very eventful,’ said Angela.
‘I suppose it has,’ he said. ‘Yes, the whole village will be talking about the murder for years to come, I don’t doubt.’ There was a pause, and then he coughed. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘That’s quite all right,’ said Angela. ‘I couldn’t let Kathie be put in prison for something she didn’t do.’
‘I meant thank you for not crowing,’ he said, looking slightly shamefaced, ‘although you’d have been perfectly within your rights to do so. I understand that you were responsible for solving the whole thing.’
‘Well—’ began Angela, but he went on:
‘I fear I may have been a little too concerned with appearances in the beginning, but I am very glad you forgot our differences and agreed to help.’
‘You’re more than welcome,’ said Angela. ‘I know you find my goings-on a little hard to swallow, but I hope you believe I don’t do anything deliberately to offend.’
‘No, no, I’m sure you don’t,’ he said.
‘There’s no denying we’re very different people,’ she continued, ‘but after all, we are brother and sister, so perhaps we ought to make a little more effort to get on. Look, Kathie is going to be married soon, and I’m sure she’d hate to think of her wedding being spoiled by family rows.’
‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said. ‘Very well, I shall do my best in future.’
‘And so shall I,�
�� said Angela.
The truce having been declared, they smiled at one another and Humphrey poured his sister some tea, and they took their breakfast together in a not unfriendly silence.
After lunch Angela was ready to leave, and was standing in front of the house speaking to William as he loaded the luggage into the Bentley when she looked up and saw Kathie and Inspector Jameson approaching. She ran to greet them, and after shaking hands with Jameson and congratulating him, said mischievously:
‘Are you off to beard the lion in his den?’
‘Not at all,’ said Kathie, as Jameson assumed an expression of mock alarm. ‘We’ve just come to reassure Humphrey that Alec isn’t planning to run off and that he was perfectly sober when he asked me to marry him.’
‘I’m not certain I was,’ said Jameson. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve felt slightly drunk ever since yesterday.’
Kathie laughed and scolded him, and Angela smiled at them both in their happiness.
‘So you are going now, Angela,’ said Kathie. ‘You must come to the wedding, of course. You were responsible for it, after all.’
‘Try and keep me away,’ said Angela. ‘I shall wear a new hat and pretend to cry.’
‘I don’t believe I’ve thanked you properly for your help with the Tipping case, Mrs. Marchmont,’ said Inspector Jameson.
‘Think nothing of it,’ said Angela. ‘And by the way, now that we’re practically related I think it’s about time we stopped all this Mrs. Marchmont nonsense. It’s Angela, and I shall call you Alec.’
‘Of course you’re Angela,’ said Jameson. ‘I never think of you as anything else, really. The formality is just force of habit.’
‘Splendid,’ said Angela. ‘Then that’s settled.’
They all beamed at each other, and then Kathie and Jameson bade her farewell and went into the house. Angela returned to the Bentley, where Marthe and William were waiting to get in.
‘Have we got everything?’ said Angela. ‘Well, then, I suppose we had better be off. I expect there will be a mountain of post to see to. I do hope I haven’t missed anything exciting.’
‘Isn’t murder exciting enough?’ said William.
‘I suppose it is,’ said Angela. ‘But even murder seems rather a quiet affair down here in the country. Dear me!’ she said, recollecting herself. ‘And to think only a few days ago I denied being anything like those jaded society women. Why, I ought to be ashamed of myself.’
She was saved from too much self-recrimination by the arrival of Elisabeth, who had come to bid her goodbye.
‘Thank you so much for coming, Angela,’ she said. ‘It has been a pleasure to have you.’
It appeared to be costing her some effort, but her manner was almost friendly.
‘The pleasure was all mine,’ said Angela graciously, trying not to think about the incident with the cocktails in the garden.
‘I do hope you will come again soon,’ said Elisabeth. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking—I don’t believe your old room is quite the thing. Next time you shall have the blue room. It’s much more comfortable and suitable for guests.’
‘Oh,’ said Angela, somewhat stumped for a reply. ‘I shall look forward to it,’ she said inadequately.
The two ladies smiled politely but warily at each other, much as the ambassadors of two warring nations might approach one another with a view to opening talks on a peace treaty. Then, to Angela’s utter astonishment, Elisabeth stepped forward and kissed her stiffly on the cheek.
‘Well, goodbye,’ she said, and hurried off before Angela could respond.
Angela stood dumbfounded for a second, then turned and prepared to get into the car. Just then, her attention was caught by William and Marthe, who were staring determinedly at the ground, and she glared at them.
‘What are you laughing at?’ she said. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
***
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Also by Clara Benson
THE MURDER AT SISSINGHAM HALL
On his return from South Africa, Charles Knox is invited to spend the weekend at the country home of Sir Neville Strickland, whose beautiful wife Rosamund was once Knox's fiancée. But in the dead of night Sir Neville is murdered. Who did it? As suspicion falls on each of the house guests in turn, Knox finds himself faced with deception and betrayal on all sides, and only the enigmatic Angela Marchmont seems to offer a solution to the mystery.
This 1920s whodunit will delight all fans of traditional country house murder stories.
THE MYSTERY AT UNDERWOOD HOUSE
Old Philip Haynes was never happier than when his family were at each other's throats. Even after his death the terms of his will ensured they would keep on feuding. But now three people are dead and the accusations are flying. Can there really be a murderer in the family? Torn between friendship and duty, Angela Marchmont must find out the truth before the killer can strike again.
The Mystery at Underwood House is the latest exciting 1920s whodunit featuring reluctant ‘lady detective’ Angela Marchmont.
THE TREASURE AT POLDARROW POINT
When Angela Marchmont goes to Cornwall on doctor's orders she is looking forward to a nice rest and nothing more exciting than a little sea-bathing. But her plans for a quiet holiday are dashed when she is caught up in the hunt for a diamond necklace which, according to legend, has been hidden in the old smugglers' house at Poldarrow Point for over a century.
Aided by the house's elderly owner, an irrepressible twelve-year-old, and a handsome Scotland Yard detective, Angela soon finds herself embroiled in the most perplexing of mysteries. Who is the author of the anonymous letters? Why is someone breaking into the house at night? And is it really true that a notorious jewel-thief is after the treasure too? Angela must use all her powers of deduction to solve the case and find the necklace—before someone else does.
THE RIDDLE AT GIPSY’S MILE
Lost in the mists of the Romney Marsh, Angela Marchmont stumbles upon the body of a woman whose face has been disfigured—presumably to prevent recognition. Who is she, and what was she doing out there in the middle of nowhere? The search for answers will take Angela from a grand stately home to London’s most fashionable—and disreputable—night-club, and into a murky world of illegal drinking, jazz music and lost souls.
THE INCIDENT AT FIVES CASTLE
It is Hogmanay, and Angela Marchmont is at Fives Castle, the Scottish seat of the Earl of Strathmerrick, to see in the start of 1928. But when she finds out that the Foreign Secretary, the American Ambassador and the Head of British Intelligence are also among the guests, Angela begins to suspect that something momentous is afoot. Before long, they are all snowed in and a body is discovered, and Angela soon finds suspicion directed against herself...
THE IMBROGLIO AT THE VILLA POZZI
While holidaying in Italy, Angela Marchmont is persuaded to postpone her trip to Venice and go to Stresa instead, to investigate a pair of spiritualists who are suspected of defrauding some of the town’s English residents out of their money. But what starts out as a minor matter swiftly becomes more serious when one of the residents in question is found dead in the beautiful gardens of his home, having apparently committed suicide.
Seduced by the heady sights and scents of the Italian Lakes, and distracted by an unexpected encounter with an old adversary who seems bent on provoking her, Angela sets out to find out the truth of the affair and resume her journey to Venice before she forgets herself and loses her head—and her heart.
THE TROUBLE AT WAKELEY COURT
When the Grand Duke of Morania learns of a plot to assassinate him, he sends his daughter Princess Irina to school in England, out of harm’s way. Britis
h Intelligence scent trouble and ask Angela Marchmont to investigate. But dark forces are at work, and when the Princess disappears in mysterious circumstances Angela must race against time to find her, before the throne falls and Morania is plunged into revolution—or war.
THE SCANDAL AT 23 MOUNT STREET
When an unwelcome figure from her past turns up unexpectedly, Angela Marchmont has no idea that she is about to become the most notorious woman in Britain. Forced to reveal secrets she has kept to herself for many years, and which she had thought were safely buried, Angela faces a fight for her very life which she looks almost certain to lose without the help of the man she loves. But what hope does she have when the one man who can save her is the one man who has every reason to abandon her to her fate?
