Murder at Renard's (Rose Simpson Mysteries Book 4) by Margaret Addison Read Free Book Online Page A

silence which both parties were eager to break, but neither knew how, both being at a loss as to what to say. Celia cursed herself for having spoken of marriage, a subject which Bertram regrettably rarely mentioned. In the end it was Bertram who broke the silence by summoning the waitress. She weaved her way between the tables until she stood before them in her neat black, maid like uniform with its well laundered white collar, cuffs and apron. She tilted her head to take their order, which gave Celia the opportunity to study her cap which she noticed matched the apron and cuffs so perfectly. It was offset by thick black ribbon threaded through it. While Bertram gave their order Celia sat back in her chair and idly and with little interest regarded the orchestra. Her thoughts drifted back to the ground floor of the establishment with its large Food Hall and, as a means of occupying herself until the silence was broken, she set her mind to trying to recall the various delicacies that had been on display there. If she remembered correctly, they had included amongst other things hams, cakes, pastries, bespoke chocolates, fruit from the Empire, wines, cheeses and flowers.
    ‘Celia –’
    ‘I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have –’
    ‘It’s not that, darling. It’s just that you know very well your father will never accept me as a son-in-law.’
    ‘But of course he will. Why won’t you understand? You’ll suit him very well.’
    ‘You’re the daughter of a marquis, Celia, and I’m a humble solicitor in an unfashionable law firm. I have very few prospects.’
    ‘I don’t care. And it won’t worry Daddy a jot,’ Celia said, clasping Bertram’s hand in hers. ‘He wants me to be happy and if I’m completely honest, I think he’ll be pleased just to get me off his hands. I’m almost thirty. He’s given up on the idea that I’ll ever be married off. He’s afraid that I’m going to end up a dried up old spinster.’
    ‘I can’t imagine that you’ll ever be dried up,’ laughed Bertram. ‘You’re too full of life. Take just now. You came sailing into the room like a whirlwind upsetting everything in your path.’
    Celia regarded him fondly. As always she thought that he cut quite a figure of a man, tall as he was, although his features were not spectacular or anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps, she thought that was why she liked him so very much. He was not a man to be intimidated by. His looks were not so much greater than hers, but he was comfortable in himself, not awkward as she was. She found his quiet composure reassuring. He was so unlike the other men of her acquaintance who were confident because of their status in society and their wealth. Unlike them he was not overwhelmed by her exuberant and ungainly manner. If anything, these qualities were what had attracted him to her. 
    ‘I really have had the most interesting of mornings, Bertram,’ said Celia, leaning towards him and putting her hand lovingly on his arm. ‘What would you say if I were to tell you that I am to be a mannequin this evening at a fashion event? It’s to be held in the funniest little backstreet boutique you could imagine.’
    ‘Good lord, Celia!’ exclaimed Bertram. ‘That doesn’t sound like you at all.’ He smiled and gave her an affectionate look as he spotted lipstick on her teeth. ‘I say, is your lady’s maid on strike? Your make-up looks a bit of a mess, darling, if you don’t mind my saying. You’ve got the stuff on your teeth.’
    ‘It’s frightfully infuriating,’ said Celia, dabbing at her mouth with the edge of her handkerchief. ‘Betsy’s ill and I’ve absolutely no idea how to apply the stuff myself. I thought I’d probably done it all right, but I can tell now from your expression that I haven’t. No doubt Madame Renard and her awful little shop assistants were laughing at me behind my back.’
    ‘Madame Renard?’
    ‘Oh darling, do keep up. She’s the proprietor of the boutique