Footsteps in the Dark by Georgette Heyer Read Free Book Online Page B

Mrs. Bosanquet remarked as she took her seat at the round table that it was pleasant to find herself in an upto-date house again.
    "Oh, I'm afraid the White House is a very dull affair after the Priory," Colonel Ackerley replied. "Suits me, you know; never had much use for old buildings. Full of draughts and inconvenience, I always say, but I'm afraid I'm a regular vandal. I can see Mrs. Malcolm shaking her head at me."
    Celia laughed. "I wasn't," she assured him. "I was shaking it at Mr. Titmarsh." She turned to her other neighbour again. "No, I'm absolutely ignorant about butterflies and things, but it sounds most interesting. Do…'
    Mr. Titmarsh eyed her severely. "Moths, madam!" he said.
    "Yes, moths. I meant moths. I've noticed quite a number here. They will fly into our candles."
    Margaret, who was seated between her brother and Strange, said softly: "Do listen to my sister floundering hopelessly!" She shook out her table-napkin, and began to drink her soup. "You know, you're a fraud," she said. "You told me you didn't know anyone in Framley."
    "Honestly, it was quite true," Michael replied. "I only met the Colonel last night. He blew into the Bell, and we got talking, and he very kindly asked me to dine with him. In fact' - his eyes twinkled -'he wouldn't take No for an answer."
    "I think you must be a recluse, or something," Margaret teased him. "Why should you want him to take No for an answer?"
    "I didn't," said Strange, looking down at her, with a smile. "He told me you were coming."
    Margaret blushed at that, but laughed. "I feel I ought to get up and bow," she said.
    Peter, who had heard, leaned forward to speak to Strange across his sister. "Were you on the right-of-way late this afternoon?" he asked. "I thought I caught a glimpse of you."
    If he hoped that Michael Strange would betray uneasiness he was disappointed. "Yes," Strange said tranquilly. "I was fishing the Crewel again today. I didn't see you."
    "Oh, I was some way off," Peter answered.
    In a momentary lull in the general conversation Celia's voice was heard. "And you saw this rare moth in our grounds? How exciting! Tell me what it looks like."
    "Ah, that oleander hawk-moth," said Charles. "Did you have any luck, sir?"
    "Not yet," Mr. Titmarsh said. "Not yet, but I do not despair."
    The Colonel broke off in the middle of what he was saying to Mrs. Bosanquet to exclaim: "Hullo, have you been chasing moths at the Priory, Titmarsh? Never shall forget how I took you for a burglar when I first found you in my garden."
    His hearty laugh was echoed more mildly by the entomologist, who said: "I fear I am somewhat remiss in asking the permission of my good neighbours if I may trespass harmlessly on their land. Your husband," he added, looking at Celia, "mistook me for a ghost."
    "Oh, have you seen the Priory ghost yet?" Mrs. Roote inquired. "Do harrow us! I adore having my flesh made to creep."
    Strange, who had looked directly across the table at Mr. Titmarsh from under his black brows, said quietly to Margaret: "Is that really true? Does he prowl round the countryside looking for moths?"
    "Yes, so they all say. Charles and Peter saw him in our garden last night. He's rather eccentric, I think."
    "What with myself and - what's his name? Titmarsh? - you seem to be beset by people who roam about your grounds at will," Strange remarked. "If I remember rightly you said you took me for the ghost as well."
    "Ah, that was just a joke," Margaret answered. "I didn't really. And of course Charles and Peter wouldn't have taken Mr. Titmarsh for one in the ordinary course of events."
    "You mean that you all rather expect to see the famous Monk?"
    "No, but that was the night…' She broke off.
    Strange looked inquiringly down at her. "Yes?"
    "Nothing," Margaret said rather lamely.
    "That sounds very mysterious," Strange said. "Have you been having trouble with the Monk?"
    She shook her head. Colonel Ackerley called across the table: "What's that? Talking about the Priory