Read Online Sick of Shadows by M. C. Beaton - Free Book Online Page B

Superintendent Kerridge a statement is being issued to the press today to say that she knew very little about Dolly Tremaine.”
    Becket entered the room and Daisy wished she could throw herself into his arms.
    “Ah, Becket,” said Harry. “Any news?”
    “The Tremaine family departed for their home in the country some time ago. The son, Jeremy, is studying divinity at Oxford.”
    “I would really like to talk to the Tremaines now that their grief will have subsided a bit. Where do they live?”
    “Dr. Tremaine is rector of Saint Paul’s in the village of Apton Magna in Gloucestershire.”
    “I will go with you,” said Rose.
    “That will not do at all,” said Aunt Phyllis. “I forbid it.”
    “You are a guest in my home,” said Rose coldly, “so may I point out you are not in a position to forbid anything.”
    “My sweet child! Do not be in such a taking. I was merely concerned for your welfare,” said Phyllis. She did not want to give up free accommodation and free meals for herself and her servants.
    “As it is better I should be with my fiancée every time she ventures out of doors,” said Harry, “then perhaps it would be a good idea if she accompanied me.”

    Lord and Lady Hadfield were basking in the sun on the terrace of the Grand Hotel at Biarritz. The earl was asleep with a newspaper over his face.
    His wife poked him awake with the point of her parasol.
    “Brum says you received a telegraph this morning. What was it?”
    “Hey, what? Oh, that? Simply Cathcart saying that all was well with Rose.”
    “Such a relief,” sighed Lady Polly, looking out at an expanse of deep blue sea. “It is so pleasant to be spared the worry of her.”
    “I wish I had a son,” complained the earl. “Boys are less trouble.”
    “Oh, go back to sleep,” snapped his wife, thinking again of all those little graves in the churchyard at Stacey Court. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried and tried. She had given birth to three boys, all of whom had died in childbirth and had gone to join their little sisters in the family grave. Only Rose had survived. Difficult Rose.

    To Daisy’s dismay, the captain had changed his mind about staying at the earl’s town house. He had decided that it might occasion too much unfavourable comment, given that he was only engaged to Rose and not married to her.
    But at least she and Becket were to join Rose and Harry on the outing to Gloucestershire.
    Both wearing carriage dresses and heavily veiled, they climbed into Harry’s car the following day.
    The sun was shining and the shops and houses of London all had blinds and awnings, fluttering in the lightest of breezes. They gave the effect of a city under full sail.
    Harry was driving with Rose beside him. Rose was overawed by the beauty of the motor car. It was the new Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost, the genius of the odd alliance between Charles Rolls, an aristocrat, and Frederick Royce, a working man from very poor beginnings. The Silver Ghost cruised along beautifully, keeping to the speed limit of twenty miles per hour.
    “Your business must be doing very well,” she remarked.
    “Because of my Rolls?”
    “Yes.”
    “Business has been excellent if tiresome. But people are prepared to pay a fortune for me to cover up scandals or even to find their lost dogs. I have told my secretary, however, that I am not taking on any further business until this case is solved.”
    They stopped at an inn in a village outside Oxford for lunch because they had set out early that morning. “I wonder if Jeremy Tremaine is at the university,” said Harry.
    “Hardly.” Rose poked at the food on her plate. She would not confess that she was still nervous and frightened, expecting assassins to jump out from behind every bush. “It’s high summer. What college does he attend?”
    “Saint Edwin’s.”
    “I wonder if this visit to the Tremaines is really necessary. They cannot know anything and they will hardly admit they drove their daughter