The Scandal at 23 Mount Street (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 9) (4 page)

This year’s ball looked like being every bit as riotous as its predecessors, and when Angela arrived in company with the Pilkington-Soameses and some other friends she found the place already hot, crowded and deafening. On the one hand this boded well, for it meant that nobody was likely to notice if she spent part of the evening in company with Edgar Valencourt, but on the other there was some doubt as to whether they would be able to find one another at all in the throng.

‘Come and dance,’ said Freddy once they had found their table and sat down. ‘It’s bad enough now, but it’ll be unbearable after supper once people have started being sick on the floor.’

Ignoring Angela’s pained expression, he took her hand and pulled her into the middle of the heaving crowd.

‘So, then, what have you been getting up to lately?’ he said. ‘You hurried me out of the house so quickly the other day that we didn’t have time to chat. What have you been doing with yourself?’

‘Not much,’ she replied. ‘Very little, in fact. It’s been a very quiet week. Marthe has left me and all my friends keep falling ill or dropping dead when I want to go and see them.’

‘Inconsiderate of them.’

‘Well, quite. I think this is the first time I’ve been out in about a fortnight.’

‘You ought to have called me,’ said Freddy. ‘We might have gone out together. As a matter of fact there was rather a good night at the Express Club about ten days ago. All the old crowd were there—all the fun people: Bill Arnott, Mags Bagley—Gertie, of course. You ought to have come.’

‘I think they’re all a little young for me,’ said Angela. ‘I’m not twenty-one any more, much as I weep to admit it.’

‘I refuse to believe it,’ said Freddy stoutly. ‘You are as young and lively as you ever were.’

‘Thank you, Freddy,’ said Angela. ‘You’re terribly kind and I choose to believe you. But what about you? How is business at the
Clarion
? Have they promoted you to editor yet?’

‘Incredible as it may seem, they have not,’ said Freddy. ‘Anyway, I don’t know that I want to be editor any more. I rather enjoy getting out and about.’

‘Are you pursuing any exciting stories at the moment?’

‘Well, of course the big one at the moment is this jewel robbery in Kent,’ he said.

A frown flickered across Angela’s forehead.

‘It’s a gang, isn’t it?’ she said.

‘Yes, the Boehler gang. They’re a bunch of ruffians and the sooner they’re caught the better.’

Angela could not help asking half-fearfully:

‘Are the police quite sure it’s them? They don’t suspect anyone else?’

‘Oh, no, it was certainly them,’ said Freddy. ‘They’re quite brazen and don’t bother to wear gloves, so the police have their finger-prints.’

‘Are they foreigners? That doesn’t sound like an English name.’

‘Yes, they’re German, I think,’ said Freddy. ‘Or possibly Austrian. They’ve been marauding about the capital cities of Europe for some time now, leaving a trail of violence and broken glass in their wake. It’s all terribly vulgar.’

Angela’s brow cleared.

‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘They sound quite dreadful. Still, at least you ought to have plenty to write about for a while.’

The dance finished and they returned to their table to find the waiter just arriving with drinks. Angela was becoming increasingly nervous at the prospect of seeing Edgar Valencourt and found herself drinking a little more than she had intended, but quickly realized what she was doing and stopped. It would not do to be muddle-headed when they met—if indeed he turned up, for she had seen no sign of him so far. Perhaps he had changed his mind or been unable to get in. The thought dismayed her more than she cared to admit, and she spent the first part of the evening in a state of some preoccupation.

It was not until after supper that she spotted him, standing by the edge of the dance floor, not looking at her. She was passing with a little group of ladies, and deliberately allowed the others to get ahead of her. Valencourt watched until they had disappeared out of sight, then turned to her.

‘Awful crowd here,’ he said.

‘Terrible, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘It’s like this every year. I don’t know why I agreed to come.’

‘You look quite beautiful,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ she said, glancing down at her dress, which was not the one she had originally intended to wear, for she had had to substitute her first preference for a frock that went with long gloves.

‘Will you dance with me?’ he said.

She gave him her widest smile. She could not help it.

‘I should be delighted,’ she said.

He led her on to the floor and very soon they were pressed as close together as public decency would allow.

‘What shall you say if your friends ask who I am?’ he said.

‘Oh, I shall just say that I know you slightly from some committee or other, and that you’re very worthy and polite but rather dull,’ she said. ‘Just to allay suspicion, of course.’

‘Of course,’ he said.

She adopted the most convincing bored look she could muster.

‘What do you think?’ she said. ‘Do I look as though I’m finding your company too terribly tedious?’

‘Oh, absolutely.’

‘Then nobody will ever suspect a thing,’ she said.

‘You have the advantage of me, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘I could never even pretend to find you dull.’

‘You say the nicest things,’ said Angela. ‘It’s a pity you have to leave. I could keep you in a box and bring you out to cheer me up whenever I was feeling particularly cross or out of sorts.’

‘I’d do that and welcome,’ he said. ‘But I’d rather you didn’t keep me in a box.’

‘No. I expect you’d get rather creased after a while. Very well, I shall let you go wherever you choose, and find another way of cheering myself up whenever I need it.’

‘I see one of your friends has spotted us,’ he said, and she glanced back and saw Freddy standing not far off, looking at them.

‘Freddy. I might have known,’ she said, assuming her bored expression again.

‘So that’s Freddy, is it? The inquisitive reporter.’

‘Yes. He hasn’t been doing it long, but I think he’ll get on very well, since he has morals of indiarubber.’

‘Is that so?’ said Valencourt, regarding the young man with interest.

Freddy was no longer looking at them, and shortly afterwards moved away. Angela and Valencourt turned their attention back to one another and resumed their conversation—which could hardly be called a conversation in the usual sense of the word, being rather an exchange of agreeable nonsense between two people who were far more pleased with each other than they had any right to be. Angela’s head was spinning slightly, but whether that were because of the cocktails or the company she could not say; perhaps it was a little of both. She was thankful that this would be the last time she saw him, and perhaps for that reason was slightly less reserved than she might otherwise have been, for until then she had always attempted to maintain a certain degree of coolness in her manner towards him. She was aware that they might be under observation, however, and did her best not to give herself away
too
much, flattering herself that any outsider glancing casually at them for a second would never suppose them to be anything more than friends.

She had reckoned without Freddy, however. That young man had seen Angela Marchmont dancing with a man he did not know, and at first had thought nothing of it, for although the man was rather good-looking Angela appeared more bored than anything. Freddy sympathized silently with the suffering which a dull dancing partner could bring, wondered for half a second who the man was and then turned his attention elsewhere. A minute or so later, however, he happened to glance in their direction again and this time saw an entirely different picture, for now the man was murmuring something into Angela’s ear in a most familiar way. She did not draw back but listened, then her face broke into a wide smile and she said something, shaking her head at him. The man said something else and Angela glanced around, caught sight of Freddy and turned suddenly serious again. Freddy raised his eyebrows and wandered deliberately out of their sight, but did not take his eyes off them. This time there was no mistaking what was going on, because just then, for the merest few seconds, a look and a smile passed between the two of them which immediately answered any questions in Freddy’s mind as to their true connection with one another. They looked away again quickly, but for those few seconds nobody could have doubted the affinity between them.

Freddy pursed his lips in a silent whistle.

‘Well, well,’ he thought, and wondered again, this time with much more interest, who the man was. Angela was not a woman who liked to talk about her private concerns—indeed, until that moment Freddy had always imagined, without thinking too deeply about it, that she had none, for she had always seemed to prefer to mix with a wide circle of close acquaintances rather than any one person in particular. Where Mr. Marchmont was Freddy did not know, but he had always assumed somehow that there had been a divorce in America and that that was why Angela had returned to England. She was rarely seen out in company with any male companion; nor did this seem to bother her, and so Freddy had fallen into the idle assumption that she was happiest on her own—although he now remembered having been briefly suspicious last summer that there had been some entanglement. She had admitted nothing, however, and so he had believed he must have been mistaken. But of course, now he came to think about it, it was highly unlikely that there should be no-one on the scene, and it was rapidly dawning on him as he stood there that in fact Angela was not so much fiercely independent of any man as merely very discreet.

A malicious grin spread across Freddy’s face as he resolved to make the very most of this new knowledge. Of course, he was very fond of Angela, but to miss such an opportunity to tease her unmercifully whenever the opportunity presented itself would be to betray all his most dearly-held principles. Besides, she was quite capable of giving as good as she got, and so there was no need at all for him to tread lightly. He would call on her tomorrow, he decided—not too early, of course—and begin his campaign of torment, although tonight he would content himself with merely dropping one or two hints. He wondered whether she would introduce the man to their party. It would be interesting to talk to him and find out what exactly it took to attract Angela, who did not normally appear to be easily impressed by the opposite sex.

He was reflecting pleasurably on the prospect of getting a rise out of his friend when he was accosted by a young lady of his acquaintance, who declared it was an age since they had seen one another and insisted that he come and meet her new fiancé. Freddy allowed her to lead him away and put his new knowledge to the back of his mind, resolving to save it for later. He was quite determined that Angela should not escape him, but it would have to wait for now.

After the dance finished Angela and Valencourt made their way out of the ballroom in search of some fresh air and quiet. Unfortunately, the corridor outside was full of people who had had the same idea—mainly giggling couples and men looking for a brief respite from their arduous social duties—and in the end they were forced to stand almost by the front door of the house and put up with the occasional blast of cold air whenever someone went in or out. Angela stood by a tall potted palm and did her best not to glance around nervously.

‘What time do you leave tomorrow?’ she said.

‘Early,’ he replied. ‘The boat train departs at half past seven. I should be in Calais by early afternoon, I think.’

‘Then you really are going to France,’ she said.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Where did you think I was going?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It might be anywhere. I’m afraid I still never quite know whether you’re telling the truth or not.’

‘But why should I lie in this instance?’

‘No reason at all. You must have realized by this time that I’m unlikely to set the police on you,’ she said dryly.

He smiled.

‘I don’t take you for granted, I assure you,’ he said. ‘Quite the contrary, in fact. If
you
never know whether or not I’m telling the truth,
I
never know whether or not you’ll give me the cold shoulder when we meet.’

‘Then it appears we’re even,’ she said, and accepted a cigarette from him.

He put his hand in his inside pocket for a light and accidentally half-pulled something out with it. He replaced it immediately, but it was too late, for although the corridor was only dimly lit, they were standing directly below a ceiling lamp, which gleamed off whatever it was and threw it into sharp relief for the merest second. Angela saw it immediately and stiffened.

‘What was that?’ she said.

Was it her imagination, or did a guilty look flash briefly across his face?

‘What was what?’ he said.

‘That thing you pulled out of your pocket just now.’

‘This, you mean?’ he said, bringing out a cigarette-lighter. ‘It’s empty. Rather pointless carrying it around, really.’

Had they not just been talking about his trustworthiness or otherwise, Angela might have let it go at that, but despite what she had said only a moment ago, this time she knew for certain that he was lying. She looked into his face and forced him to meet her gaze.

‘No, that’s not what I meant and you know it,’ she said. ‘What was it? Something you oughtn’t to have?’

‘Of course not,’ he said, and all the lightness had suddenly gone from his tone.

They regarded one another warily, adversaries once again. There was a pause, then Angela lifted her chin.

‘Goodbye, Mr. Valencourt,’ she said coldly, and with that turned on her heel and walked back towards the ball-room. She was furious with him and with herself. She had thought that they might part on good terms at least, but here he was, lying to her once again. He had talked of giving up his life of crime, and yet she had seen as plainly as anything what he had been carrying in his pocket. How stupid she had been to believe him! He had evidently not changed one bit—would never change, in fact—and it was high time she forgot about the man once and for all, for he would bring nothing but disappointment.