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Authors: James Anderson

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'Yes, miss. Mr. Deveraux explained there had been a slight accident.'

'Oh dear,' Jane said. 'Tell me, Merryweather - is he a guest here?'

'Yes, miss.'

'Crumbs. I hoped he was just calling about the drains or something. Do you know if he's a great friend of the family?'

'I believe not, miss. He is here professionally rather than socially. I understand he is writing a book on the stately homes of England and is considering including Alderley in it.'

'I see. That's something, anyway. I'd like to go straight up to my room now.'

'Certainly, miss. If you will just follow me.'

'Is it my old room?'

'Yes, miss.'

'Then don't bother to take me. I know my way. Have my traps been taken up?'

'Yes, miss. You should find Marie unpacking.'

'Fine. Tell Lady Geraldine I've arrived, will you, Merryweather ?'

'Certainly, miss.'

'Thank you.' Jane made her way up the grand staircase. At the top she turned right along the main corridor, and at the end left into the east wing. She opened the second door on the left and went in. This was a small but pleasant room, overlooking the courtyard. Gerry's maid, Marie, a pretty, dark girl, had just completed the not very arduous task of unpacking. She gave a shriek of horror upon seeing Jane.

'Mille tonnerres, mademoiselle! What 'ave they done to you?'

'Not they, Marie. One man in one car.'

She took off her tweed coat and skirt and gave it to Marie for sponging and pressing. Then she removed her precious stockings and handed them to her too, with a request to have them laundered with the greatest possible care. After Marie had left, Jane washed her face and hands, and gingerly put on her other stockings. This operation completed without mishap, she was just struggling into her dress, when Gerry burst in.

By the time she had given an account of her misadventure with Deveraux, Jane felt more cheerful. Gerry proved a most satisfactorily sympathetic audience, exhibiting just the right amount of indignation on Jane's behalf. When they'd talked the subject out, she said: 'Now, tell me: have you got a job yet?'

Jane shook her head.

'Good. Then you can stay as long as you like.'

'I wish I could, but honestly I must get fixed up soon.'

'Jane, darling, can't you marry money?'

'Lead me to it.'

'Perhaps I have. Perhaps there's somebody here. Pity you got off on the wrong foot with Giles Deveraux. He's not exactly good looking, but he's rather attractive. And I should imagine he's pretty well-heeled. His car looks expensive.'

'Probably stolen.'

'Then how about one of our mittel Europeans? I don't know anything about them financially, but these continental diplomats usually come from ancient aristocratic families.'

'Somehow the idea of being married to an ancient European diplomat doesn't really appeal to me.'

'No, honestly, they're not at all bad. I was very agreeably surprised. I was expecting terribly stiff and formal old buffers with thick accents and monocles and little imperials, bowing and kissing my hand all over the place. But actually they're both quite young. They speak very good English - in fact one of them could be an American. The secondary one - Felman, I think - is a bit quiet, but the chief one, Adler, has really got a lot of charm - and SA.'

'Sorry, darling, but I'm not keen. What about this oil millionaire? Any chance for me there?'

'I don't know. He hasn't arrived yet. He is bringing his wife with him, though.'

'Perhaps I can entice him away from her. Alternatively they might have an eligible son.'

'If they have, he's not coming with them. Just a secretary. Name of Evans.'

Jane applied lipstick. 'I'm not interested in secretaries unless they've got double-barrelled surnames if English, or have "Van" in front of them if American. Is that the lot?'

'There's somebody Richard brought. From the FO. I don't know if he's married. Nice enough, but a bit of a stick. Then there's Algy—'

'Stop. There's no need to be obscene. I must say, none of them sound awfully promising. It seems likely that in the immortal words of Amelia Bottway, I shall 'ave to try h'elsewhere - somewhere where they keep a adequate stock. However, I will inspect what you have.'

'Then if modom will follow me to the terrace, she can do so at her leisure while taking tea.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tea on the Terrace

The two girls went downstairs and onto the terrace. After Lord and Lady Burford had greeted Jane, the Countess started on introductions.

'May I present Mr. Adler? Miss Clifton, a very dear friend of the family.'

Adler smiled easily, stood up and held out his hand. He was pleasant-looking in a quiet, inconspicuous way, slightly below average height, slim yet nonetheless with a look of latent strength.

'Miss Clifton, I'm very glad to make your acquaintance.'

Jane suddenly knew what Gerry had meant by charm. Adler had oodles of it and, without meaning to, Jane found herself smiling more broadly than she usually did on meeting anyone new.

'Mr. Felman,' said Lady Burford.

Mr. Felman was tall, fair-haired, with finely-moulded sensitive features; he was also plainly ill at ease. He murmured a few words of greeting as he shook hands, then backed away quickly, glancing at Adler as he did so; it was almost as though he were seeking approval.

Lady Burford moved on. 'Mr. Thornton.'

Thornton gave a severe little bow of the head and shook hands with stiff, cold fingers.

'And Mr. Deveraux,' Lady Burford said.

Jane turned towards the fourth man. She had decided to be very magnanimous, to make no mention of the incident on the drive. She was all ready, therefore, to be extremely pleasant to Mr. Deveraux. But as he looked at her, she clearly saw his lips twitch and she knew at once that he was remembering her as he'd seen her last, standing, dripping and furious, on the drive. At that second all her good intentions went to the wall.

So as Deveraux stepped forward, she extended her hand, smiled sweetly, and said: 'Mr. Deveraux and I are acquainted, Lady Burford. How are you, Mr. Deveraux? Have you assaulted any other young women since last we met?'

And as Lady Burford stared blankly, Jane turned away to where Algy Fotheringay was still sitting, a cup of tea in one hand and a chocolate éclair in the other, and greeted him in a tone of great warmth. 'Hullo, Algy. How delightful to see you. How are you?'

Algy got hurriedly to his feet, knocking over his chair as he did so, held out half an éclair to Jane, tried to transfer it to his left hand, couldn't do so because of the cup, popped the éclair into his mouth, swallowed, and gave Jane limp and sticky fingers.

'I'm in topping form, thanks, Jane. How's yourself?'

'Very well, thank—'

I've had a really ripping year, Jane. In January I went to Le Pinet as a guest of Lady Masters. Do you know her? Charming woman. She said I was the most unforgettable guest she'd—'

'You must tell me all about it, sometime,' Jane interrupted firmly. 'I shall look forward to it.' And she moved away towards the last member of the party. This was a tall, slim man, impeccably dressed, with a moustache and dark hair touched with grey at the temples; he was twinkling at her out of deep-set eyes.

'Hullo, Jane. It's been a long time.'

Jane held out her hand. 'It has, hasn't it?'

'I've been here often enough, but you never seem to have come then.'

'I am a working girl, you know. Anyway, it's very nice to see you again Unc - er, Rich—' She smiled. 'What do I call you now?'

'I think you should follow Gerry's lead, and call me Richard. Come and sit by me and let's have a chat.'

He pulled forward a chair for her. She sat down. Richard looked at her with pleasure. He saw a tall girl, very slim, with raven-black hair, a generous mouth, clear grey eyes, and a straight, steady gaze.

'It was Gerry who started me calling you uncle,' Jane said. 'We were at the share-everything stage - and that had to include you.'

'I insisted on her dropping the uncle part a long time ago. It's nice to be called it by a schoolgirl, or even by a debutante; but once she'd grown up it just drew attention to my advanced age.'

'Advanced age my foot!' Jane accepted a cup of tea from a footman, added milk, and selected a cucumber sandwich from a laden trolley wheeled up by a maid. 'You are sixteen years older than me. I know that because when I was sixteen Gerry and I worked out that you were twice my age. I am now twenty-four, so you are forty.'

'You are superbly diplomatic, Miss Clifton. Actually, I'm forty-one.'

'All right, forty-one. And a future Prime Minister, according to at least one paper.'

'Oh, that. They talk a lot of rot. But you didn't come to Alderley to talk politics. Tell me, what was the meaning of that cryptic remark you made to Deveraux?'

'Oh, don't let's talk about it now. I'll explain later.'

'As you wish, madam.'

Jane gave a mock groan. 'Why does every conversation I have today remind me irresistibly of Mayfair Modes?'

'Ah yes, the job from which you so magnificently departed. Gerry told us about it. Have you got another one yet?'

Jane shook her head.

Richard frowned. 'I wonder if I could help to fix you up. What sort of thing do you want to do?'

'Anything at all. But I've no qualifications.'

'There must be jobs going where you don't need formal qualifications.'

'Do tell me what. I can't type or do shorthand, I've got no academic degrees or certificates, no artistic or acting talent. I talk in the right sort of accent, know the right sort of people, wear the right sort of clothes. I speak passable French and good German, ride moderately well and play a reasonable game of tennis. And there are thousands of girls who can say exactly the same thing. So what do you suggest?'

Richard pursed his lips. 'Nursery governess?'

'Can you honestly see—'

He interrupted with a laugh. 'All right. I wasn't serious. Doctor's receptionist?'

'No thanks. I don't want anything to do with medicine or illness.'

'Some other sort of receptionist?'

'I've already tried it at an hotel - without great success.'

'Hm, you're a problem, aren't you? A nice problem, but a problem nonetheless.'

'I'm a problem to myself. It's no good. I shall have to become an adventuress.'

'Well, I'll keep my eyes and ears open for something else all the same - just in case you don't take to it.'

'Thank you. But enough of me. Tell me about your foreign friends.' She nodded towards Adler and Felman, who were talking to Lord Burford and Geraldine. (She noticed with satisfaction that Deveraux had been cornered by Algy.)

'Oh, they're not really friends. They're over here on official business and the PM thought it would be nice to give them a taste of a typical English country house party.'

'I see. And what about Mr. Thornton?'

'Oh, he's just a chap from the FO I've got friendly with lately. Nice fellow. We're all going to take the opportunity to do a bit of work, actually. Just some routine business.'

* * *

'Is this your first visit to England, Mr. Adler?' Gerry asked. By dint of some complicated conversational manoeuvres, she had at last managed to divert her father and Felman into one channel of discussion and had then gently detached Adler from it.

'Yes, Lady Geraldine, it is.'

'Too soon to ask how you like it, I suppose?'

'What I've seen so far I've liked very much. Particularly your charming house.'

'It is nice, isn't it?'

'When was it built?'

'Commenced 1670. One of the genuine, if smaller, stately homes of England. Complete with secret passage.'

'Really?'

'Yes, I'll show you later, if you're interested.'

'I'd be fascinated. I've never seen one. They're such wonderfully romantic things.'

'After dinner tonight, then. I'll take you to the room where one end of it comes out, and I bet you half a crown you can't find the entrance.'

'You're on.'

'There are quite a lot of interesting things here, actually - if you can afford the time off from your talks.'

He smiled. 'Don't you have a proverb in this country: something about all work and no play being a bad thing?'

'Something like that.'

'Then I'll certainly find time for as many conducted tours as you're able to give me, Lady Geraldine.'

He looked steadily at her. Gerry seemed to find this disconcerting. 'Er, another cup of tea, Mr. Adler?' she said hurriedly.

'Thank you.'

Gerry signalled to the footman, then watched Adler surreptitiously as he took a fresh cup and added lemon. Strange; his features were quite ordinary really. But he certainly had something. And she felt sure he could tell a few stories. She was starting to look forward to the next few days . . .

* * *

'Personally,' said Lord Burford, 'I'm very attached to the good old-fashioned cesspit.'

He had been finding Nicholas Felman a most admirable listener. The young man did not initiate much conversation himself, but he was splendidly attentive and sympathetic to the trials and tribulations of an English landed proprietor: the iniquities of county council and government, and the insatiable demands of tenants - the latest of these being for modern sewage disposal.

His last remark, however, was overheard by the Countess, who interrupted firmly: 'George! I'm sure Mr. Felman has no desire to converse about such a matter. Kindly desist.'

'Oh. Sorry, m'dear.'

'It's clearly time to change the subject. Tell me, Mr. Felman, is this your first visit to England?'

Felman gave a little start. 'I beg your pardon? Oh - yes, it is.'

'Have you been long in the diplomatic service?'

'Yes. Since I left University.'

'Always stationed at home?'

'No. I did - let me see - two, yes, two years in Stockholm.'

'That must have been enjoyable. A delightful city.'

'Yes, very pleasant.'

'We were there ten years ago. Tell me, do you know a charming little restaurant called Olsen's in Storkyrkobrinken?'

'No, I'm afraid not.'

'Oh.' Lady Burford fell silent. Strange that a professional diplomat, good-looking and presumably intelligent, should seem so gauche, so ill at ease, so, frankly, dull. Still, the Countess was not a person to give in so soon.

'I expect your family have been in the diplomatic service for generations, have they?' she asked next.

'What? Oh no. Actually, I'm the first.'

It was hard work but the Countess persevered, gradually eliciting from Felman the information that he was unmarried and that his only close relative was a younger sister, Anna, a medical student. Then he appeared to make a great effort.

'You have a wonderful home, Lady Burford.'

'I'm glad you like it.'

'You seem to have quite large stables.'

'Fairly. Do you ride?'

'A little.'

'Then you must talk to my daughter. She's the keenest these days. Geraldine!'

'Yes, Mummy.'

'Come and talk horses to Mr. Felman. Excuse me, Mr. Felman. I must go and speak to cook about dinner.'

She got up and walked away. Gerry, who'd been getting on famously with Adler, looked a trifle put out, but she made her apologies and went across. Lord Burford, who had been listening to her conversation, leaned over and tapped Adler on the shoulder. 'Tell me all about this country of yours,' he said.

'That's quite a tall order, sir. What exactly do you want me to tell you?'

'I don't know anything about it hardly. Tell me what I ought to know.'

'Well, we're small, peaceful, and prosperous. The people are free and on the whole happy. We have what I suppose you'd figure was a pretty measly little empire, but which we're kind of proud of. I guess our main aim is just to keep things pretty much as they are.'

'And you think Britain can help, is that it?' Lord Burford spoke in a quieter voice. 'And you needn't worry,' he added. 'I know this is all hush-hush. Me brother got the OK to give me an outline of what'll be going on. I do sit in the House of Lords and I have taken the oath of allegiance.'

'Oh, I'm well aware nothing needs to be kept from you, Lord Burford.'

'Keep as much from me as you like, my dear feller. This sort of thing's not my cup of tea at all. Good luck to you, though.'

'Thank you.'

'You've spent most of your life in America, I understand.'

'A good part of it.'

'Would it be bad form to call you a Yankee?'

'On the contrary, I'd be honoured.'

'Oh, capital. You must tell my daughter.'

Adler looked a shade puzzled at this somewhat enigmatic remark, but he got no enlightenment, Lord Burford then asking: 'How did you come to take up a political career in another country?'

'Well, I was born in the Duchy, of course. But my mother was American, and after my father died when I was eight, she returned to the States. The only connection I retained with the old country was a knowledge of the language. Then when I was at Harvard, the then Grand Duke, the present one's father, sent his son there to finish his education. Shortly after he arrived, he discovered that there was a solitary compatriot of his there also. He invited me to visit him. The short of it was we struck up a friendship, and when we finished he asked me to go back with him and become his aide. My mother had died about
a
year before and my best girl had just jilted me. I had nothing to keep me in the States. So I went. Over the years I've worked my way up. That's just about it. Rather a boring story, isn't it?'

* * *

'Have we ever met? Your face looks definitely familiar to me.'

It was Edward Thornton who spoke, and Giles Deveraux turned with relief towards the source of the precisely enunciated words. He had been listening for what seemed like hours to a lengthy discussion on some of the More Memorable Meals served to Algy Fotheringay by his aristocratic hosts, and the interruption had come opportunely in one of Algy's few pauses for breath.

'Is that so?' Deveraux said. 'I fear that it's merely that I've got that sort of face. I can't say I reciprocate.'

'In the war, perhaps? I was with the Somerset Light Infantry.'

'I'm sorry to say I missed the show - by about two months. I was in the Navy afterwards, but not until after all the shooting had stopped. Frustrating. Still, I've seen a fair amount of the world since - both in and out of the service.'

BOOK: The Affair of the Bloodstained Egg Cosy
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