Princes Gate Read Online Free PDF Page B

with fine wines and spirits. He was a Tory member of Parliament whom Norton knew to be a prominent Chamberlain supporter.
    “He’s in the pink, I believe, Major. Still in America but due back next month.”
    “Mr Pemberton. Good to see you again.”
    Vivian Pemberton, a slight, elegant man whose face appeared to portray a permanent look of mild amusement, was smoking a pungent cigarette through a long silver cigarette holder. He looked back through a haze of smoke. “Likewise, Norton.”
    “I saw one of your plays last week. The one at the St. James’ Theatre. Knockout stuff. Are you working on another now?”
    Pemberton took a long draw on his cigarette. “I’m afraid the Ministry of Information have me working on some more serious stuff at present. An awful bore, I’m afraid, but as everyone keeps saying, there is a war on.”
    The three ladies who had been chatting over their drinks at the other end of the room joined them.
    “My wife Madeleine, Mr Norton.”
    Norton shook the hand of Mrs St. John, a small mousy creature who smiled weakly at him. The elder of the other two ladies raised her eyebrows at him and held out her hand.
    “And this is Lady Celia Dorchester, and her niece, Nancy Swinton.”
    Norton kissed Lady Dorchester’s raised hand. Her niece held her hand out at a lower level and he shook it. Supposedly Lady Dorchester had been a famous beauty in her day but it was difficult to discern the traces of her youthful charms through the layers of fat now enveloping her face. Miss Swinton was a tall, healthy, rather gangly-looking girl. Not really his type on first impression – too natural looking a beauty for his taste.
    “Norton is a close associate of the American Ambassador, ladies.” St. John drained his cocktail and signalled for another.
    “Yes, yes, we know that, don’t we, Nancy? I am a great admirer of Mr Kennedy. A man of such energy.”
    Lady Dorchester nodded her head for emphasis and her jowls shuddered. Norton was considering whether Lady Dorchester had been numbered in her youth among the long list of Kennedy conquests, when a servant announced from the end of the room that dinner was to be served.
    As the guests proceeded into the dining room, a loud rap was heard at the front door.
    “I think that’s our late arrival.” Diana Pelham stepped back into the hall.
    Norton had just found his name card between Nancy Swinton and his hostess, when she returned.
    “I think you all know Freddie Douglas, don’t you? The fastest rising star in the Foreign Office, at least that’s what Edward Halifax told me the other day.”
    Douglas, a slender, good-looking young man with oiled black hair and deep-set dark, wary eyes, smiled apologetically. “I don’t know about that, Diana.”
    “False modesty, Freddie. Come on now. Sit down here by me.”
    Douglas sat down on Lady Pelham’s other side. He was wearing an immaculate, dark pin-striped suit, unlike the rest of the men around the table.
    “Sorry about the kit. Everything’s so busy at the office, I didn’t have time to get home to change. You’re such a sweetie, Diana, I thought you’d tolerate my failings in etiquette.” Lady Pelham gave him a dazzling smile as he paused to look around the table and exchange greetings.
    “Arthur. How are you? Enjoyed the other night. I need to chat to you about a couple of things. We’ll speak later.”
    Douglas tapped his nose meaningfully and sat back in his chair. “Sorry, Diana. Very rude of me, conversing over your head. My profuse apologies.”
    “Don’t worry, dear. Ah, here’s the wine. Now I’d like your opinion on this. Our new butler found it the other day in St. James’. Tell me what you think.”
    Norton didn’t hear Douglas’ opinion on the wine but as far as he was concerned, it was as fine a Puligny Montrachet as he’d ever tasted, and that was saying something.
    “And so, Mr Norton, do you like living in England?”
    “Well, yes I do, Miss Swinton. Of course, I think