The Scandal at 23 Mount Street (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 9) Read Online Free PDF Page B

called a conversation in the usual sense of the word, being rather an exchange of agreeable nonsense between two people who were far more pleased with each other than they had any right to be. Angela’s head was spinning slightly, but whether that were because of the cocktails or the company she could not say; perhaps it was a little of both. She was thankful that this would be the last time she saw him, and perhaps for that reason was slightly less reserved than she might otherwise have been, for until then she had always attempted to maintain a certain degree of coolness in her manner towards him. She was aware that they might be under observation, however, and did her best not to give herself away too much, flattering herself that any outsider glancing casually at them for a second would never suppose them to be anything more than friends.
    She had reckoned without Freddy, however. That young man had seen Angela Marchmont dancing with a man he did not know, and at first had thought nothing of it, for although the man was rather good-looking Angela appeared more bored than anything. Freddy sympathized silently with the suffering which a dull dancing partner could bring, wondered for half a second who the man was and then turned his attention elsewhere. A minute or so later, however, he happened to glance in their direction again and this time saw an entirely different picture, for now the man was murmuring something into Angela’s ear in a most familiar way. She did not draw back but listened, then her face broke into a wide smile and she said something, shaking her head at him. The man said something else and Angela glanced around, caught sight of Freddy and turned suddenly serious again. Freddy raised his eyebrows and wandered deliberately out of their sight, but did not take his eyes off them. This time there was no mistaking what was going on, because just then, for the merest few seconds, a look and a smile passed between the two of them which immediately answered any questions in Freddy’s mind as to their true connection with one another. They looked away again quickly, but for those few seconds nobody could have doubted the affinity between them.
    Freddy pursed his lips in a silent whistle.
    ‘Well, well,’ he thought, and wondered again, this time with much more interest, who the man was. Angela was not a woman who liked to talk about her private concerns—indeed, until that moment Freddy had always imagined, without thinking too deeply about it, that she had none, for she had always seemed to prefer to mix with a wide circle of close acquaintances rather than any one person in particular. Where Mr. Marchmont was Freddy did not know, but he had always assumed somehow that there had been a divorce in America and that that was why Angela had returned to England. She was rarely seen out in company with any male companion; nor did this seem to bother her, and so Freddy had fallen into the idle assumption that she was happiest on her own—although he now remembered having been briefly suspicious last summer that there had been some entanglement. She had admitted nothing, however, and so he had believed he must have been mistaken. But of course, now he came to think about it, it was highly unlikely that there should be no-one on the scene, and it was rapidly dawning on him as he stood there that in fact Angela was not so much fiercely independent of any man as merely very discreet.
    A malicious grin spread across Freddy’s face as he resolved to make the very most of this new knowledge. Of course, he was very fond of Angela, but to miss such an opportunity to tease her unmercifully whenever the opportunity presented itself would be to betray all his most dearly-held principles. Besides, she was quite capable of giving as good as she got, and so there was no need at all for him to tread lightly. He would call on her tomorrow, he decided—not too early, of course—and begin his campaign of torment, although