The Shadow at Greystone Chase (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 10) by Clara Benson Read Free Book Online Page A

Hudd. ‘We have exchanged greetings and she has a quite pronounced accent.’
    ‘Yes, she is,’ conceded the colonel. ‘A good lady, by all accounts.’
    He spoke of her with some reserve. It occurred to Angela that he did not admire Victorine de Lisle, and she remembered what Mr. Gilverson had said about her being plain. The conversation had now turned to other matters and Angela took the opportunity to reflect on her good fortune. She had come to Denborough with the intention of picking up local gossip without looking too suspicious, and had thought that a hotel might be a good place to start, but she had never dreamed that she would be so successful so soon. To have been introduced to Colonel Dempster, who had actually known the de Lisles personally at the time of the murder, was a stroke of luck indeed. It seemed almost too much of a coincidence, but Angela supposed that in a small place such as Denborough it was only to be expected that many of the residents knew or had known the de Lisles. She resolved to make the colonel’s closer acquaintance if she could. Perhaps he could give her more information than she had had so far, for at present there was nothing at all to suggest that a mistake had been made, or that Edgar Valencourt had not murdered his wife.

T HE NEXT MORNING dawned fine, although to judge from the movement of the grass on the cliff top, there was still a brisk breeze blowing. Angela looked out of her bedroom window and gave a little shiver.
    ‘Blessed are we who bring with us warm underthings,’ she remarked to Marthe.
    ‘I do not understand why anyone should want to go to the English seaside at this time of year,’ said Marthe, who was tidying up the dressing-table. ‘Why do all these elderly ladies insist on coming here to take walks in the freezing cold in the morning and in the afternoon and in the evening? And then they complain about the stiffness in their bones and seem surprised that they can no longer bend down. It makes no sense. Me, I think they are mad. It is much pleasanter and warmer on the Continent.’
    ‘I dare say it is,’ said Angela. ‘But then they would have to speak to the natives and eat the food, and that might kill them. Or at the very least scare them into fits.’
    ‘It would be pleasanter for you too, madame ,’ said Marthe, who did not approve of this latest adventure. ‘You should not be here.’
    ‘Perhaps not,’ said Angela, ‘but I promised I’d do it, so onward I must go.’
    ‘But what kind of person would hold you to your word?’ said Marthe. ‘This solicitor ought not to have written to you in the first place. It was an inelegant thing to do.’
    ‘Inelegant?’ said Angela, amused.
    ‘Yes,’ said Marthe. ‘It is not kind to put a lady in such a position, and nobody will think the worse of you if you change your mind. Write to him and tell him you no longer wish to do it. You will never hear from him again, and you can leave this place and forget everything.’
    Since Angela had been trying for months to forget everything with little success, this was hardly useful advice. She made no comment, however, but merely said:
    ‘I gave my word and I mean to keep it. I dare say I won’t find anything out, but nobody will be able to say that I didn’t try.’
    Marthe saw that her mistress’s mind was made up, and shook her head sadly.
    ‘It pains me to see you so restless, madame ,’ she said. ‘You travel here and you travel there, and never do you stop.’
    ‘I like it,’ said Angela. ‘One gets terribly bored staying in the same place all the time.’
    As a matter of fact, she had begun to toy with the idea of returning to America within the next few months. During her time in England she had neglected her business rather, and although she trusted absolutely the man she had left in charge, she felt that she had been gone too long and had forgotten too much. Now she had received a letter from someone who had expressed an interest in