Read Online The King's Evil by Edward Marston - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Edward Marston
Ads: Link
say?'
'At
least.'
'Will
you be returning home to Kent?'
'That
is my business,' said the other with a note of reprimand.
'Of
course, Sir Ambrose,' said Christopher. 'It is not my place to pry into your
affairs. I merely wished to know if there was some means of getting in touch
with you in the event of a contingency arising here.'
'Speak
to my lawyer.'
'Will
Mr Creech have ready access to you?'
'He
is empowered to act on my behalf.'
'Then
nothing more need be added on the subject.'
'Nothing
at all, Christopher.'
His
remark was buttressed by a mild glare. Christopher accepted the rebuke with
good grace and sought to win back Northcott's approval. He drew his employer's
attention to the drawings and the two of them were soon bent over the trestle
table, discussing every detail of the house. Their mutual enthusiasm for the
project quickly repaired the minor rift between them and they conversed for
almost an hour. By the time they finished, Northcott's good humour had returned
and he even felt able to pat his architect on the back.
'It
will be one of the finest houses in London,' he said.
'You
must take the credit for that, Sir Ambrose.'
'I
had the sense to choose the right architect and the right builder.'
'You
also purchased the best possible site,' Christopher reminded him with a sweep
of his arm. 'It is so appealing in every way, I am surprised that its previous
owner was ready to part with it.'
'When
his home went up in the blaze, he lost heart.'
'Could
he not build a replica in its place?'
'He
lacked the funds to do so,' said the other, 'and, though he will argue his case
in the fire court, he can look for very little compensation from that quarter.
I seized opportunity by the forelock and made him an offer which he was unable
to refuse.'
'I
am heartily glad that you did so, Sir Ambrose.'
'So
am I - now that we have agreed on the design. Everything is as I would wish.
But I must away,' said Northcott, suddenly conscious of the time. 'I have
important appointments today and I must call on my lawyer to give him his
instructions. He will shortly be in touch with you.'
He
waved a farewell then went off for a final word with Littlejohn. Christopher
pored over his drawings once more, untroubled by the many compromises he had
been forced to make between artistic impulse and the demands of his client.
Given a free hand, he would have opted for a slightly plainer style and
resisted all of the French flourishes which had been incorporated but it was
still a piece of work of which he was quite inordinately proud and it would
gain him considerable attention when it finally took its place in the new
landscape.
Christopher
was still revelling in his good fortune when he became aware that he was being
watched. It was not an intrusive surveillance. Indeed, it seemed to wash gently
over him like a benign wave and caused him to look up. The young woman was no
more than a dozen yards away, her gaze fixed on him, her teeth showing in an
open- mouthed smile of admiration. She was slim, comely and elegant in a dress
composed of several shades of blue yet there was a slight nervousness in her
manner which vitiated her poise. Christopher put her at no more than eighteen
or nineteen and he wondered why she was loitering alone in such a place. She
held his gaze for a full minute before modestly lowering her lids. His
curiosity stirred and conducted an approving scrutiny.
Samuel
Littlejohn ambled slowly over to the architect.
'You
have made a conquest, I think,' he noted.
'How?'
'Margaret
was so enamoured of your design for the house that she insisted she be given
the chance to meet you.'
'Margaret?
You know the young lady?'
'Extremely
well,' said the other with a grin. 'She is my daughter.'
'And
a beautiful one at that, Mr Littlejohn.'
His
courteous observation drew an immediate response. Margaret Littlejohn met his
eyes once more and stared into them with an intensity which bordered on
yearning. Christopher was taken
'At
least.'
'Will
you be returning home to Kent?'
'That
is my business,' said the other with a note of reprimand.
'Of
course, Sir Ambrose,' said Christopher. 'It is not my place to pry into your
affairs. I merely wished to know if there was some means of getting in touch
with you in the event of a contingency arising here.'
'Speak
to my lawyer.'
'Will
Mr Creech have ready access to you?'
'He
is empowered to act on my behalf.'
'Then
nothing more need be added on the subject.'
'Nothing
at all, Christopher.'
His
remark was buttressed by a mild glare. Christopher accepted the rebuke with
good grace and sought to win back Northcott's approval. He drew his employer's
attention to the drawings and the two of them were soon bent over the trestle
table, discussing every detail of the house. Their mutual enthusiasm for the
project quickly repaired the minor rift between them and they conversed for
almost an hour. By the time they finished, Northcott's good humour had returned
and he even felt able to pat his architect on the back.
'It
will be one of the finest houses in London,' he said.
'You
must take the credit for that, Sir Ambrose.'
'I
had the sense to choose the right architect and the right builder.'
'You
also purchased the best possible site,' Christopher reminded him with a sweep
of his arm. 'It is so appealing in every way, I am surprised that its previous
owner was ready to part with it.'
'When
his home went up in the blaze, he lost heart.'
'Could
he not build a replica in its place?'
'He
lacked the funds to do so,' said the other, 'and, though he will argue his case
in the fire court, he can look for very little compensation from that quarter.
I seized opportunity by the forelock and made him an offer which he was unable
to refuse.'
'I
am heartily glad that you did so, Sir Ambrose.'
'So
am I - now that we have agreed on the design. Everything is as I would wish.
But I must away,' said Northcott, suddenly conscious of the time. 'I have
important appointments today and I must call on my lawyer to give him his
instructions. He will shortly be in touch with you.'
He
waved a farewell then went off for a final word with Littlejohn. Christopher
pored over his drawings once more, untroubled by the many compromises he had
been forced to make between artistic impulse and the demands of his client.
Given a free hand, he would have opted for a slightly plainer style and
resisted all of the French flourishes which had been incorporated but it was
still a piece of work of which he was quite inordinately proud and it would
gain him considerable attention when it finally took its place in the new
landscape.
Christopher
was still revelling in his good fortune when he became aware that he was being
watched. It was not an intrusive surveillance. Indeed, it seemed to wash gently
over him like a benign wave and caused him to look up. The young woman was no
more than a dozen yards away, her gaze fixed on him, her teeth showing in an
open- mouthed smile of admiration. She was slim, comely and elegant in a dress
composed of several shades of blue yet there was a slight nervousness in her
manner which vitiated her poise. Christopher put her at no more than eighteen
or nineteen and he wondered why she was loitering alone in such a place. She
held his gaze for a full minute before modestly lowering her lids. His
curiosity stirred and conducted an approving scrutiny.
Samuel
Littlejohn ambled slowly over to the architect.
'You
have made a conquest, I think,' he noted.
'How?'
'Margaret
was so enamoured of your design for the house that she insisted she be given
the chance to meet you.'
'Margaret?
You know the young lady?'
'Extremely
well,' said the other with a grin. 'She is my daughter.'
'And
a beautiful one at that, Mr Littlejohn.'
His
courteous observation drew an immediate response. Margaret Littlejohn met his
eyes once more and stared into them with an intensity which bordered on
yearning. Christopher was taken
Similar Books
