The Quality of Mercy Read Online Free PDF

the way but, damn it, we Americans never label our friends by their education the way you do.’
    ‘I don’t believe that,’ Edward said, smiling. ‘What about your fraternities? Aren’t you loyal to your “frat house” for life?’
    ‘Touché!’ The young man grinned engagingly. ‘I guess you’re right. The friends of our youth have a special place in our affections.’
    Edward thought Frank might like him and said as much.
    ‘It would be an honour. Does he like art?’
    ‘Not that I’ve ever heard,’ Edward replied drily.
    ‘Well, with your permission we’ll change all that.’
    Edward was taken aback. The man was presumptuous but he supposed it might just be his American frankness. ‘You don’t need my permission and his parents will be pleased if you take him off their hands,’ he offered, giving him the benefit of the doubt. ‘But didn’t our host say we had a friend in common?’
    ‘Bernard Hunt.’
    ‘Hunt? I wouldn’t say he was a friend – more an acquaintance. We met on the Queen Mary . He knows a great deal about Poussin, I recall.’
    ‘He’s a first-class critic. It’s what I want to be,’ Rose added ingenuously. ‘I worked at the National Gallery of Art in Washington and Bernard’s going to introduce me to Kenneth Clark and get me a research job at the National Gallery.’
    ‘You sound as if you have your future mapped out,’ Edward said with a touch of envy.
    ‘I guess. There’s a war coming so I need to get my education before the shooting match starts.’
    Hunt was a predatory homosexual and Edward was pretty sure Rose was also that way inclined. Should he warn Frank, he wondered? No, the boy was old enough to look after himself. He glanced over at Mountbatten who was still talking to Ayesha and wondered about his proclivities. Was he rather too obviously a ladies’ man? Was flirting with his friend’s wife just a cover for his taste for young men? He was angry with himself for indulging in cheap cynicism but he was beginning to share Gerald’s instinctive distaste for the man. He caught Sunny’s eye and read pain, embarrassment and shame in that quick glance. His friend was the most peaceable of men but, in the last resort, he would not allow himself to be made to look a fool. Sunny was happy when his wife was admired but he would never countenance infidelity.
    Edward thought the best thing he could do was to interrupt the tête-à-tête. Making his excuses to Rose, he joined Mountbatten. If the latter was annoyed, he did not show it but courteously involved him in a discussion of polo. Apparently, Ayesha was an accomplished player.
    ‘Do you play, Lord Edward?’ she inquired.
    ‘I never have.’
    ‘It’s not too late to learn,’ Mountbatten said with genuine enthusiasm. ‘You and your nephew must try it.’
    ‘Yes, you must,’ Ayesha urged him. ‘There’s no game like it. If you have a good eye and you can ride . . . It’s more exciting than hunting.’
    After a moment, Mountbatten drew Edward to one side and told him there was someone he particularly wished him to meet.
    ‘Who is that?’ Edward asked, looking round.
    ‘He’s waiting for you in the Gun Room. I wanted to say . . . to warn you, he’s not like Stuart, say, immediately likeable. He’s austere – even cold – but he’s able . . . very able and he’s . . . he’s a patriot.’
    Edward was curious. It was not like Mountbatten to sound uncertain. ‘What’s his name? Why does he want to see me?’
    ‘His name’s Guy Liddell. He’s a great-nephew of Alice-in-Wonderland, if you follow me. I have known him for many years but I’ll let him tell you why he wants to meet you.’
    ‘But who is he?’
    ‘Well, he’s a gifted cellist and a superb dancer. He won an MC in the war serving with the Royal Field Artillery. Afterwards, he joined Scotland Yard and liaised between Special Branch and the Foreign Office. Will that do?’
    ‘He’s a policeman?’
    ‘I can’t tell you any more but,