The Incident at Fives Castle (An Angela Marchmont Mystery #5) Read Online Free PDF

‘Nothing would keep them away. It’s the high-light of the year for most of them. They’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.’
    ‘I do hope we don’t get any gate-crashers as we did last year,’ said Clemmie. ‘We were turning them out of dark corners for weeks afterwards. MacDonald says he’s already seen a suspicious-looking character hanging about the place today. He ran off when he was spotted, though.’
    ‘Well, if he was a gate-crasher then he was a pretty inept one,’ said Gertie. ‘The dance isn’t till tomorrow.’
    ‘Dear me,’ said the Countess. ‘Do you think we ought to send out a search-party for the remaining guests? I should hate them to get stuck in the snow.’
    ‘No need for that, Lady Strathmerrick,’ said a voice from by the door and they all turned to see Sandy Buchanan and his wife entering the room. Angela recognized him immediately: he was the darling of the newspapers because of his sociable nature, and he and his young wife were frequently photographed attending the opera, or the ballet, or the opening of a new art gallery, or the summer parties of the rich and well-born.
    Buchanan greeted everyone heartily, pressed Lady Strathmerrick’s hand and clapped Claude Burford on the back. As he shook hands with Angela she again had the queerest feeling that she was being assessed, for the Foreign Secretary gave her a searching glance and looked deep into her eyes. Then came a little nod and a twist of the mouth, and Angela wondered what he had seen and whether he had approved of her. She had the feeling that he was not so easily shut out as Claude.
    Eleanor Buchanan was much younger than her husband, and wore her hair back from her face, which threw her thick, dark eyebrows and high cheekbones into sharp relief. She would have been strikingly attractive were it not for an intense, watchful manner and unsmiling expression which put one rather in mind of a wild animal that sees enemies all around it. The Foreign Secretary had entered into conversation with Aubrey Nash, and she looked towards the two men warily, her fingers playing unconsciously with a gold locket she wore around her neck. Angela thought she had never seen anybody so tense, and did her best to put her at ease, although she did not seem to be having much success, for Mrs. Buchanan replied in monosyllables and glanced to her right and left as she spoke, and Angela soon gave it up and left her to herself.
    It was getting late and the Countess was beginning to make noises about dressing for dinner when Freddy Pilkington-Soames swung into the room as though he owned the place. He made a bee-line for Lady Strathmerrick, bowed slightly and gave her his most winning smile.
    ‘Hallo, Lady S,’ he said. ‘It’s awfully good of you to invite me. I believe we’ve met once before—it was a year or two ago, at the Derbyshires’ house, wasn’t it?’
    ‘Oh—ah,’ said Lady Strathmerrick, caught off guard by his familiar courtesy. ‘Yes, I believe I remember it. How delightful to see you again.’
    Freddy then proceeded to ruin the good impression he had just made by turning to Priss and saying, ‘Hallo, Priss. You’re looking as ravishing as ever—far too good for that ass Claude. When you’ve divorced him you can marry me. How about it?’ He then turned and started theatrically as he pretended to see Claude Burford for the first time. ‘Oh, sorry old chap—I didn’t see you there.’
    ‘I resent that,’ said Claude, who had no sense of humour. ‘Priss is not going to divorce me. It’s simply absurd of you to suggest such a thing. If you were any sort of gentleman you’d apologize to her now.’
    But Priss had perked up at Freddy’s entrance and merely said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Claude. Freddy’s baiting you, as usual. And you fall for it every time.’
    Freddy smirked.
    ‘I’m sorry, old bean,’ he said. ‘Priss is right—I was just teasing. I instruct myself continually to be a model of decorum