Джорджетт Хейер - Envious Casca

"Oh, I am perfectly well!" she said. "But you, my poor boy! What you must be going through! Don't think I don't understand!"

"Yes, it has been a greater shock to Stephen than he perhaps realises," agreed Joseph. "But billiards on this day, old fellow? Do you think you should? It isn't that I mind, but you don't want to give people a wrong impression, do you?"

Beyond casting an exasperated glance in Joseph's direction, Stephen took no notice of this. He asked Mrs. Dean if she had seen Valerie.

"My poor girlie! Yes, she ran straight into my arms when I arrived. This has been a dreadful shock to her. You know what a sensitive little puss she is, Stevie! We must do our best to spare her any more unpleasantness."

"That oughtn't to be difficult," he replied. "The police aren't likely to suspect her of having killed my uncle."

Mrs. Dean gave a shudder. "Don't! The very thought of it - ! I must say, Stephen, that if I had had any idea what was going to happen I should never, never, have allowed her to come here!"

"If," said Stephen, with an edge to his voice, "you mean to convey by that air of reproach a suggestion that I ought to have warned you, I must point out to you that my uncle's murder was not one of the planned entertainments for the party!"

"Naughty boy!" Mrs. Dean scolded, giving his hand a playful slap. "If I didn't know that wicked tongue of yours, I should be very cross with you! But I understand. I've always said that you're one of those shy people who hide their real feelings under a sort of bravado. Aren't I right, Mr. Herriard?"

"Quite right!" Joseph said, trying to slip a friendly hand in Stephen's arm, and being frustrated. "Stephen loves to try to shock us all, only his old uncle won't be shocked!"

"Ah, that's the way with so many of the young people today," said Mrs. Dean, shaking her head.

"Let me point out to you that there is no fire in this room, and that you could both discuss me in greater comfort elsewhere!" snapped Stephen.

Mrs. Dean's eyes might acquire a steely look, but her smile remained. She said: "You conceited boy, to think I should waste my time discussing you! I have much more important things to do! Indeed, I must unpack the few bits and pieces I brought with me, and just tidy myself a little after the journey."

Joseph at once offered to escort her to her room, and led her away before Stephen could say something even more outrageous. In the hall, Valerie, now clad in the navy-blue suit which her mother thought more proper to the occasion than priMr.ose-yellow, was flirting mildly with Roydon. As Roydon's mind was preoccupied with the possible consequences of Nathaniel's murder, the flirtation was a desultory affair, but the sight of her daughter, tete-a-tete with a young man whom one glance assured her was ineligible, made Mrs. Dean intervene at once. She said that she wanted her girlie to come up and help her to unpack.

"Oh, Mummy, why on earth?" said Valerie petulantly. "The housemaid will do all that."

"No, my pet; you know Mummy never likes the servants to meddle with her things," said Mrs. Dean. "Come along!"

"Oh, all right!" said Valerie sulkily. "See you later, Willoughby!"

Once in the seclusion of the Blue Room, which was a spacious if somewhat sombre apartment over the library, Mrs. Dean wasted no time in beating about the bush, but asked abruptly: "Who is that young man, Val?"

"Willoughby? He's a playwright. He's written the most marvellous play called Wormwood. He read it to us yesterday."

"I've never heard of him," said Mrs. Dean.

"Well, he hasn't actually had anything put on yet, but he's frightfully brilliant, and I expect Wormwood will run for simply years!"

"I'm sure I hope it may," responded Mrs. Dean. "But you know you can't afford to waste your time on penniless young writers, my pet, and I didn't quite like to see you being so friendly with him."

"Oh, Mummy, what absolute rot! As though I couldn't be friends with other men just because I'm engaged!"

"You must let Mother know best, my pet. You don't want to make Stephen jealous, now, do you?"

"I don't care," said Valerie sullenly. "Besides, I don't believe he would be. He simply pays no attention to me. The only person he's more or less decent to is that sickening Clare-woman. And she isn't even moderately good-looking, Mummy!"

"Is she the one who went off to church with Mrs. Herriard? Such manners! I wonder what Mrs. Herriard was before she was married? I'm sure my little girl has nothing to fear from anyone as plain as Miss Clare. You mustn't be silly, childie. I can see it's high time Mother came to keep an eye on you. I've no doubt you've been getting on the wrong side of Stephen. He isn't the sort you can play tricks with."

"Well, if it wasn't for being frightfully rich, I don't think I would marry Stephen," said Valerie, in a burst of frankness.

"Hush, dear! I suppose there's no doubt that Stephen will inherit all this?"

"Oh, I don't know, except that Uncle Joe practically told me he would! Only I simply couldn't live here all the year round, Mummy: I should go mad!"

"Time enough to think of that later." Mrs. Dean glanced round the room. "His uncle must have been worth a fortune. You don't run a place like this on two pence-ha'penny a year. But I don't like the sound of this murder, Val. Of course, we don't know, and very likely everything will turn out satisfactorily, but I couldn't let my girlie marry a murderer."

"I wouldn't be able to, would I?" asked Valerie, opening her lovely eyes very wide.

"Of course not, my pet, but it was the engagement I was thinking of. Only one doesn't wish to do anything in haste. Mother has to think of Mavis too, you know."

"I don't see what Mavis has got to do with my marrying Stephen."

"Now, don't be silly, childie!" said Mrs. Dean, somewhat tartly. "Heaven knows it isn't easy to find an eligible husband for one daughter, let alone two! Your meeting Stephen at the Crewes' was a piece of very good luck not that I would want either of my chicks to marry without love, naturally - and young men who are heirs to fortunes don't crop up every day of the week by any means. We shall just have to wait."

"I don't believe Stephen ever would have proposed to me if you hadn't sort of made him," said Valerie discontentedly. "In fact, in a way I rather wish he hadn't."

"You know Mother doesn't like her girlies to talk in that vulgar way. And she doesn't like to see that sulky look, either. You must just trust her to do what's best, and be your own bright self, my pet."

"I don't see how anyone could possibly be bright in this house. It's a ghastly place. Paula says it's evil."

"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Dean. "Now, run along, and don't let Mother hear any more of that kind of rubbish!"

Valerie departed with something very like a flounce, but reappeared a minute later with whitened cheeks, and quickened breath. "Mummy!" she gasped. "The most frightful thing! Someone has arrived! Two of them! I saw them from the top of the stairs!"

"Good gracious, Val, why shouldn't people arrive? Who are they?"

"It's an Inspector from Scotland Yard! I heard him say so to Sturry! Oh, Mummy, can't we go home? Can't you get me out of this?"

"Come inside, and shut the door!" commanded Mrs. Dean. "Now, just you drink this glass of water, and stop being silly! I'm not at all surprised that Scotland Yard has been called in. There's nothing for you to worry about. No one thinks you had anything to do with the murder."

"Yes, they do, because of that foul cigarette-case!"

"What cigarette-case?"

"Stephen's. He sort of threw it to me in the drawingroom, and later it was found in Mr. Herriard's bedroom. But I never put it there!"

"Of course you didn't, and the police will realise that just as Mother does. You must just tell them all you know, and stop worrying. Remember, Mother is here to take care of you!"