The Problem at Two Tithes (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 7) (26 page)

‘I’ll come back tomorrow, I promise,’ he said. ‘Nothing will keep me away, you’ll see.’

‘Yes, tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I can wait until then. After all, I’ve been waiting for you for years, so a few more hours won’t make much difference, will it?’

‘How odd,’ said Jameson. ‘I was just thinking exactly the same thing.’

They stared at each other in a moment of surprise and shared understanding, then she smiled.

‘Go,’ she said. ‘I’ll be waiting for you. Come to dinner tomorrow with me and Peter. As a matter of fact, it might be as well to get that out of the way as soon as possible—after all,’ she went on practically, ‘you might loathe my cooking and it’s only fair to let you find it out well in advance so you can back out if you want to.’

He laughed.

‘You could serve me a plate of cold ashes and I shouldn’t back out,’ he said.

‘You oughtn’t to say things like that,’ she said mischievously. ‘You’re tempting me to do it, just to test you.’

A sudden concern struck him.

‘How do you think Peter will take it?’ he said. ‘I should hate him to think I was intruding. It’s not as though I can replace his father.’

‘Peter hardly remembers his father,’ she replied, ‘and he’s talked of nothing but you since you first came here, so I couldn’t have forgotten you even if I’d wanted to. I don’t think we need worry. You
will
come back tomorrow, though, won’t you?’ she went on, suddenly looking rather lost. ‘This has all happened so suddenly that I’m not quite certain it’s real.’

‘I feel rather the same,’ he admitted. ‘I only wish I had a ring to give you, but I don’t tend to carry one around on the off-chance that a beautiful woman with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen will agree to marry me. But I must give you
something
to demonstrate my good faith, mustn’t I?’

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.

‘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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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.