Death in the Setting Sun Read Online Free PDF

mention a man called Michael?” he asked Emilia, who was sitting opposite him in the study, reading a book.
    She looked up. “No, I don’t think so. Has he a second name?”
    “Michael O’Callaghan. He’s an Irish actor who came to my shop earlier today. He was slightly injured in a stage fight but making heavy weather of it. Anyway, I saw them going into the King’s Theatre together.” Emilia stared. “How odd. When I left she said she was going to retire early; that she was feeling fatigued.”
    “She obviously revived,” said John drily.
    “Clearly,” Emilia answered, and gave the smile that her husband adored. “She seems very taken up with theatre people so perhaps she felt she should risk going out.”
    “I wouldn’t have thought he was her type somehow.”
    “Why?”
    “Because, frankly, he’s down-at-heel. He only crowds and fights. He seems ambitious enough but as yet certainly hasn’t made the climb to better things.”
    “Perhaps he’s a secret admirer.”
    “Obviously he is. But I’m surprised she didn’t mention it to you.”
    “Oh, she has a lot on her mind,” Emilia answered vaguely. “This theatrical presentation she is putting on for the Princess is quite an undertaking. She has even asked me to take a part.”
    “Really?” John lowered his paper and stared at his wife.
    “Yes. It is apparently to be held at Curzon Street because that is where the Princess wants it. Anyway, poor Priscilla can’t get hold of enough young women. In short, she’s desperate for them. So, Husband, she has asked me if I will consider it.”
    “And will you?”
    “Yes. That is if you don’t mind.”
    “My only worry is that you are three months pregnant.”
    “Well, I shall have to be wedged in a little longer. May I do it?”
    “My darling, you may do as you wish. You knew that when I married you. I am not a man to follow convention and you have total freedom — within limits of course.”
    She got up and crossed over to him, lowering herself onto his lap and giving him little kisses round his eyes and nose.
    “And what limits might they be?”
    “That you go on loving me and don’t take a fancy to anyone else.”
    Emilia wound her arms round his neck. “How could I when all I ever wanted is here, now.”
    It was an unforgettable moment and one that he would treasure. “Darling Emilia,” he said, and gave her a kiss full of the sudden rush of an inexplicable emotion which beset him.

    Waking suddenly in the middle of the night, John realised that he had been dreaming of Midnight in Venice, of all things, and had to admit that it was the most wonderful piece of material he had seen in an age and fit to dream about indeed. And now, he realised, he had the perfect excuse to order a suit made from it, cut on the most fashionable lines. As Emilia was to take part in the royal entertainment, the theatrical performance organised for the benefit of Princess Amelia, it would be beholden on him to attend. And what better to wear than a coat and breeches fashioned in that divine material.
    Cautiously, John lit the candle by his bed. Emilia stirred but did not wake. Taking a paper and pencil he kept handy on his bedside chest, the bottom half of which contained a chamber pot, the Apothecary did some sums. He could afford it — just — without depriving Rose and the forthcoming child of anything. But he would have to work hard. And Gideon would have to pull his weight. Deciding to put an advertisement in a newspaper to ginger up business, John roughly drafted one. Then, at last, he blew out the candle.
    But sleep would not come. Memories of that uneasy sense he had had when he had held Emilia close, together with a general sensation of disquiet, plagued him to the point that he finally rose and went downstairs to the library. Even this old, familiar, well-loved room seemed eerie in the moonlight, which flooded in round the shutters. Pulling them back, John stared out into the garden. Then he froze.