second his nomination as leader of the Conservative Party but, whereas we drifted to disaster under Stanley Baldwin, I believe we are now setting course for it with a determination that chills my blood.’
As he drove back through the peaceful countryside, Edward thought how difficult it was to believe that England might soon echo to the sound of falling bombs with the drone of enemy bombers drowning out the songs of the woodland birds. If Churchill was right, Britain would face a war with Germany for which it was ill prepared or, perhaps worse, a humiliating surrender without a fight. It did not bear thinking about. Instead he turned his thoughts to Verity. By a strange coincidence she was in a position to do some useful detective work, but how to get hold of her? She would be back in London on Tuesday so there was not much time if she was to find out anything at Swifts Hill. He was half-tempted simply to drive up there and ask to see her but that was too brazen. It would cause comment and he did not want to embarrass her. In any case, it might be better if, at this stage, he did not meet Castlewood and alert him to the interest he was taking in his affairs. He could write to her and she would receive his letter the next morning but, if for any reason it was delayed, it might fall into the wrong hands. A telegram would be too dramatic. Probably, after all, the best thing was to discuss it with her when she returned. If she suddenly started asking questions she might arouse Castlewood’s suspicions and put him on his guard.
3
‘Do tell us about him.’ Virginia was being at her most annoying and Verity pretended not to know to whom she was referring.
‘Tell you about whom?’
‘Oh, Crumbles, don’t pretend you don’t know who I mean. Lord Edward, of course! Is he as good-looking as he appears in the picture papers? I would so love to meet him. Oh! I have just had the most wonderful idea. Next Saturday is the annual cricket match – Swifts Hill against the village. Simon was complaining only last night that he was having problems getting a side together. Simon! Come over here. I’ve just had a brilliant idea.’
When the ‘brilliant idea’ had been explained to him, Sir Simon was suitably enthusiastic and Roddy Maitland added his encouragement.
‘Do you think you could ever persuade him to come?’ Virginia asked Verity. ‘It would be such fun and satisfy all our curiosity. Do say you’ll ask him.’
‘Yes do, Miss Browne,’ Roddy chimed in and Isolde squeezed her arm and said it would be ‘smashing’.
‘I’ll certainly ask him. I remember him telling me how good he was at cricket when he was at school,’ she said, a touch sarcastically.
They were gathered in the drawing-room before dinner, sipping White Ladies, and Verity was wondering how she could get Maud Pitt-Messanger on her own and ask about her father’s murder. She caught sight of herself in the mirror on the wall opposite her. She thought she looked all right and Simon Castlewood’s interest in her seemed to bear this out. She was wearing a new dress made for her by Schiaparelli. It was surprisingly restrained, the black crêpe cleverly designed to make her look taller than she was. The bodice was entwined with François Lesage’s delicate embroideries, silver leaves and pink flowers on sinuous, winding branches. Verity did not much care for jewellery but she wore a pendant – ivory, coral and gold on a gold chain – given her by Edward, as he put it, ‘to remember Guernica’. It was the first piece of jewellery he had ever given her and she was touched but hesitant about accepting it. When a man gave a girl something as precious and beautiful as this, he was making a claim whether he admitted it or not. Her father was the only man before Edward from whom she had ever accepted clothes or jewellery. In the end she had kissed him on the lips and said she would treasure it. The pleasure it gave him was reflected in his eyes and she
As he drove back through the peaceful countryside, Edward thought how difficult it was to believe that England might soon echo to the sound of falling bombs with the drone of enemy bombers drowning out the songs of the woodland birds. If Churchill was right, Britain would face a war with Germany for which it was ill prepared or, perhaps worse, a humiliating surrender without a fight. It did not bear thinking about. Instead he turned his thoughts to Verity. By a strange coincidence she was in a position to do some useful detective work, but how to get hold of her? She would be back in London on Tuesday so there was not much time if she was to find out anything at Swifts Hill. He was half-tempted simply to drive up there and ask to see her but that was too brazen. It would cause comment and he did not want to embarrass her. In any case, it might be better if, at this stage, he did not meet Castlewood and alert him to the interest he was taking in his affairs. He could write to her and she would receive his letter the next morning but, if for any reason it was delayed, it might fall into the wrong hands. A telegram would be too dramatic. Probably, after all, the best thing was to discuss it with her when she returned. If she suddenly started asking questions she might arouse Castlewood’s suspicions and put him on his guard.
3
‘Do tell us about him.’ Virginia was being at her most annoying and Verity pretended not to know to whom she was referring.
‘Tell you about whom?’
‘Oh, Crumbles, don’t pretend you don’t know who I mean. Lord Edward, of course! Is he as good-looking as he appears in the picture papers? I would so love to meet him. Oh! I have just had the most wonderful idea. Next Saturday is the annual cricket match – Swifts Hill against the village. Simon was complaining only last night that he was having problems getting a side together. Simon! Come over here. I’ve just had a brilliant idea.’
When the ‘brilliant idea’ had been explained to him, Sir Simon was suitably enthusiastic and Roddy Maitland added his encouragement.
‘Do you think you could ever persuade him to come?’ Virginia asked Verity. ‘It would be such fun and satisfy all our curiosity. Do say you’ll ask him.’
‘Yes do, Miss Browne,’ Roddy chimed in and Isolde squeezed her arm and said it would be ‘smashing’.
‘I’ll certainly ask him. I remember him telling me how good he was at cricket when he was at school,’ she said, a touch sarcastically.
They were gathered in the drawing-room before dinner, sipping White Ladies, and Verity was wondering how she could get Maud Pitt-Messanger on her own and ask about her father’s murder. She caught sight of herself in the mirror on the wall opposite her. She thought she looked all right and Simon Castlewood’s interest in her seemed to bear this out. She was wearing a new dress made for her by Schiaparelli. It was surprisingly restrained, the black crêpe cleverly designed to make her look taller than she was. The bodice was entwined with François Lesage’s delicate embroideries, silver leaves and pink flowers on sinuous, winding branches. Verity did not much care for jewellery but she wore a pendant – ivory, coral and gold on a gold chain – given her by Edward, as he put it, ‘to remember Guernica’. It was the first piece of jewellery he had ever given her and she was touched but hesitant about accepting it. When a man gave a girl something as precious and beautiful as this, he was making a claim whether he admitted it or not. Her father was the only man before Edward from whom she had ever accepted clothes or jewellery. In the end she had kissed him on the lips and said she would treasure it. The pleasure it gave him was reflected in his eyes and she
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