Duplicate Death by Georgette Heyer Read Free Book Online Page A

no one seems to care how they do their work as long as they're paid for it. And what they charge! Is it a grand party tonight, dear?"
    "Much as usual, I think," Beulah replied, perching on the edge of the table, and lighting a cigarette. "No good offering you one of these, is it?"
    "No, dear, thank you. I don't know how it is, but I never seemed to take to it. It isn't my scruples, because I'm very broad-minded, although I'm sure my poor old father would practically have turned me out of the house if he'd have seen me smoking. He was very particular, was my father. He wouldn't have what you might call a risky story told, not in his hearing he wouldn't; and the way he took on when short skirts first came in you wouldn't believe. Yes, he was a very good man, except for the drink, and there I'm bound to say he was a wee bit of a trial to my mother, because as sure as fate she'd have to go and look for him in the public houses as soon as ever he got his wages, and often he wasn't at all willing to go home with her, not at all. But I often say it takes all sorts to make a world, and he was very highly respected, on account of his principles. Is it a dance tonight, dear?"
    "No, just a Bridge-party."
    "I'm bound to say I've never played Bridge, though I used to be very fond of a rubber of whist. I daresay there will be a lot of celebrities?" Miss Spennymoor said hopefully.
    "Yes, quite a lot," said Beulah, knowing that the little dressmaker used this term to describe any titled person. She perceived that more was expected of her, and added: "Lady Floddan - do you know her?"
    Miss Spennymoor shook her head. "I don't think she ever got her name in the papers, dear," she said simply.
    Realising that she had failed to give satisfaction, Beulah tried again. "Well - Sir Roderick Vickerstown!"
    "Now him I do know!" said Miss Spennymoor, pleased. "He was at the races, though which races I don't precisely remember, not at the moment, with the Marquis of Chetwynd and Lady Caroline Ramsbury, smoking a cigar."
    "It sounds very probable. Lady Nest Poulton," offered Beulah.
    "Ah, now, what a lovely girl she was!" sighed Miss Spennymoor. "She used to be in all the papers. One of the Season's debutantes; that was before she was one of the Leaders of the Younger Set, of course. Sweetly pretty, and such dresses! I remember when she got married she had a wedding-dress of cloth of gold, which created a regular sensation, because it was quite an innovation, as they say, at that time. Anyone else?"
    "I don't think so. Except Lord Guisborough."
    "Yes, I thought he'd be coming, for I hear he's very sweet on Miss Cynthia, but he's not what I would call a celebrity, dear, if you know what I mean. You see, I knew his mother - oh, ever so well I knew her!"
    Since this was by no means the first time Beulah had been the recipient of this confidence, her reply was a trifle nuchaniral. "Really?"
    "First line," said Miss Spennymoor cryptically. "Oh, she was a one! Daring! You wouldn't believe! Never till my dying day shall I forget the night she went off to some party with no more money in her bag than would pay for her taxi-fare (for keep twopence together she could not!) and the dress she wore as one of the Guests at the Grand Duke's Reception. Now, what was the name of that show? It'll come back to me. Of course, I should have got into trouble if it had ever been found out, not that I knew anything about it, for she did it when my back was turned, I need hardly say. What a lad! All the other girls used to laugh at her for taking up with Hilary Guisborough the way she did. Hilary! Well, I couldn't help laughing myself: what a name for anyone to have! The funny thing was she was the last girl you'd have thought would have been so soft, but there it was, and, as I've often said, he who laughs last laughs best, for he married her. No one ever thought he would, but he said he wasn't going to have people calling his kids bastards, if you'll pardon the expression, which