golf course.”
They strolled across the garden together, making no attempt to catch up with Hugo and Jeremy. “What time do you expect Henry home?” Sir Rowland asked Clarissa.
“Oh, I'm not sure. It varies. Quite soon, I imagine. Anyway, we'll have a quiet evening together and some cold food, and we'll probably have retired to bed by the time you and Jeremy get back.”
“Yes, don't wait up for us, for heaven's sake,” Sir Rowland told her.
They walked on in companionable silence until they reached the garden gate. Then, “All right, my dear, I'll see you later, or probably at breakfast tomorrow,” said Clarissa.
Sir Rowland gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek and walked on briskly to catch up with his companions, while Clarissa made her way back to the house. It was a pleasant evening, and she walked slowly, stopping to enjoy the sights and smells of the garden, and allowing her thoughts to wander. She laughed to herself as the image of Miss Peake with her broccoli came into her mind, then found herself smiling when she thought of Jeremy and his clumsy attempt to make love to her. She wondered idly whether he had really been serious about it. As she approached the house, she began to contemplate with pleasure the prospect of a quiet evening at home with her husband.
Spider's Web
CHAPTER FIVE
CLARISSA AND Sir Rowland had hardly been gone more than a few minutes when Elgin, the butler, entered the room from the hall, carrying a tray of drinks, which he placed on a table. When the front-door bell suddenly rang, he went out into the hall, leaving the door open behind him. He opened the front door to find a theatrically handsome, dark-haired man standing outside.
“Good evening, sir,” Elgin greeted him.
“Good evening. I've come to see Mrs. Brown,” the man told him rather brusquely.
“Oh, yes, sir, do come in,” said Elgin. Closing the door behind the man, he asked, “What name, sir?”
“Mr. Costello,” he was told.
“This way, sir,” Elgin invited him, leading the way along the hall. He stood aside to allow the newcomer to enter the drawing-room, and then said, “Would you wait here, sir. Madam is at home. I'll see if I can find her.” He started to go, then stopped and turned back to the man. “Mr. Costello, did you say?”
“That's right,” the stranger replied. “Oliver Costello.”
“Very good, sir,” murmured Elgin as he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Left alone, Oliver Costello looked around the room, walked across to listen first at the library door and next at the hall door, and then approached the desk, bent over it, and looked closely at the drawers. Hearing a sound, he quickly moved away from the desk, and was standing in the centre of the room when Clarissa came in through the French windows.
Costello turned. When he saw who it was, he looked amazed.
It was Clarissa who spoke first. Sounding intensely surprised, she gasped, “You?”
“Clarissa! What are you doing here?” exclaimed Costello. He sounded equally surprised.
“That's a rather silly question, isn't it?” Clarissa replied. “It's my house.”
“This is your house?” His tone was one of disbelief.
“Don't pretend you don't know,” said Clarissa sharply.
Costello stared at her without speaking for a moment or two. Then, adopting a complete change of manner, he observed, “What a charming house this is. It used to belong to old what's-his-name, the antique dealer, didn't it? I remember he brought me out here once to show me some Louis Quinze chairs.” Costello took a cigarette case from his pocket. “Cigarette?” he offered.
“No, thank you,” replied Clarissa abruptly. “And,” she added, “I think you'd better go. My husband will be home quite soon, and I don't think he'll be very pleased to see you.”
Costello strolled across to the armchair and stood behind it as he responded with rather insolent amusement, “But I particularly do want to see him. That's why
They strolled across the garden together, making no attempt to catch up with Hugo and Jeremy. “What time do you expect Henry home?” Sir Rowland asked Clarissa.
“Oh, I'm not sure. It varies. Quite soon, I imagine. Anyway, we'll have a quiet evening together and some cold food, and we'll probably have retired to bed by the time you and Jeremy get back.”
“Yes, don't wait up for us, for heaven's sake,” Sir Rowland told her.
They walked on in companionable silence until they reached the garden gate. Then, “All right, my dear, I'll see you later, or probably at breakfast tomorrow,” said Clarissa.
Sir Rowland gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek and walked on briskly to catch up with his companions, while Clarissa made her way back to the house. It was a pleasant evening, and she walked slowly, stopping to enjoy the sights and smells of the garden, and allowing her thoughts to wander. She laughed to herself as the image of Miss Peake with her broccoli came into her mind, then found herself smiling when she thought of Jeremy and his clumsy attempt to make love to her. She wondered idly whether he had really been serious about it. As she approached the house, she began to contemplate with pleasure the prospect of a quiet evening at home with her husband.
Spider's Web
CHAPTER FIVE
CLARISSA AND Sir Rowland had hardly been gone more than a few minutes when Elgin, the butler, entered the room from the hall, carrying a tray of drinks, which he placed on a table. When the front-door bell suddenly rang, he went out into the hall, leaving the door open behind him. He opened the front door to find a theatrically handsome, dark-haired man standing outside.
“Good evening, sir,” Elgin greeted him.
“Good evening. I've come to see Mrs. Brown,” the man told him rather brusquely.
“Oh, yes, sir, do come in,” said Elgin. Closing the door behind the man, he asked, “What name, sir?”
“Mr. Costello,” he was told.
“This way, sir,” Elgin invited him, leading the way along the hall. He stood aside to allow the newcomer to enter the drawing-room, and then said, “Would you wait here, sir. Madam is at home. I'll see if I can find her.” He started to go, then stopped and turned back to the man. “Mr. Costello, did you say?”
“That's right,” the stranger replied. “Oliver Costello.”
“Very good, sir,” murmured Elgin as he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Left alone, Oliver Costello looked around the room, walked across to listen first at the library door and next at the hall door, and then approached the desk, bent over it, and looked closely at the drawers. Hearing a sound, he quickly moved away from the desk, and was standing in the centre of the room when Clarissa came in through the French windows.
Costello turned. When he saw who it was, he looked amazed.
It was Clarissa who spoke first. Sounding intensely surprised, she gasped, “You?”
“Clarissa! What are you doing here?” exclaimed Costello. He sounded equally surprised.
“That's a rather silly question, isn't it?” Clarissa replied. “It's my house.”
“This is your house?” His tone was one of disbelief.
“Don't pretend you don't know,” said Clarissa sharply.
Costello stared at her without speaking for a moment or two. Then, adopting a complete change of manner, he observed, “What a charming house this is. It used to belong to old what's-his-name, the antique dealer, didn't it? I remember he brought me out here once to show me some Louis Quinze chairs.” Costello took a cigarette case from his pocket. “Cigarette?” he offered.
“No, thank you,” replied Clarissa abruptly. “And,” she added, “I think you'd better go. My husband will be home quite soon, and I don't think he'll be very pleased to see you.”
Costello strolled across to the armchair and stood behind it as he responded with rather insolent amusement, “But I particularly do want to see him. That's why
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