Authors: Patricia Wentworth

Anne Belinda (30 page)

“What will Nicholas do?” said Anne in a whisper. “John, he's proud. If he doesn't forgive herâJennyâwhat'll happen to Jenny?”

John put his arm round her.

“Nicholas is very fond of Jenny,” he said.” I noticed it a good deal when I stayed there. It'll be a bit of a facer for him of course. But there you areâJenny did it; and in the long run it's much better Nicholas should know. It was pretty bad for Jenny going on telling lies and being everyone's blue-eyed darling. She'll be a heap nicer if she can stop lying every second word. I tumbled to it pretty quickly, and I used to want to spank her every time she did it.”

“Oh, John!”

“You bet I did! I hope Nicholas gives it her pretty strongâit's what she wants. And you needn't be afraid he won't come roundâJenny's a lot too fascinating for that. What I'm afraid of is that he'll come round a good deal too soon. Jenny's like that; she get's round you. I've been absolutely mad with her myself, and then when I saw her somehow I didn't want to hurt her. And when she came into the room this afternoon I was downright sorry for her, though she didn't deserve it.” He laughed a little. “No, you needn't be afraid. Nicholas'll put it across her, and she'll cry and be dreadfully unhappy for a bit; and then she'll get round him. If she can get round me, you bet she can get round Nicholas. There's something about Jenny.”

“Yes, there is,” said Anne. Her eyes were shining.

“She'd better stop telling lies though, or she'll land in a nasty mess. I hope Nicholas doesn't let her off too easyâthat's all I'm afraid of. That's enough about Jenny. Kiss me. You haven't kissed me yet. Have you stopped being a pariour-maid?”

“Oh, John, it was dreadful!” said Anne in his arms.

“What was?”

“She wasâMrs. Fossick-Yates. She started by having me up after breakfast and saying a friend of hers had seen me coming home with a man. John, she must have had sort of X-ray eyes, because you
know
how dark it was.”

“There are some lamps.”

John became suddenly aware that Anne had a dimple.

“How stupid you are! It wasn'tâI mean you didn't. John, she couldn't really have seen anything; but she said she did.”

Anne had a very pretty blush.

“What did she see?”

“She didn'tâshe couldn't! But she told Mrs. Fossick-Yates she saw you kiss me!”

“How horrible!”

“It's all very well for you to laugh, but it
was
horrible for me. She talked in capital letters for about half an hour, and she said the most awful things. And as soon as I could get a word in edgeways, I said I thought I'd better not stay any longer. And then she began to think about not having a parlour-maid, and she said I couldn't go, because I hadn't worked enough to pay for the dresses she'd had to get me. John, it was horridâlike being in a street row. I hated it.”

“What did you do?”

“I said I was going to friends, and I'd send her the money for the dresses. Then she said much worse things”âAnne was quite paleâ“so I went and packed my box and walked out. My sixpence just got me here. Aurora was an angel. She made me write a letter, and she enclosed the money Mrs. Fossick-Yates said I owed her, and she sent a messenger boy to bring away my box. I shouldn't have thought of that. She was splendid.”

John's attention seemed to be wandering a little.

“Could you get married in a blue dress like this?”

“NoâI don't think so.”

The dimple had returned.

“Ohâ” A short pause, and then, “We shall be getting married in about a fortnight. I think to-morrow fortnight would be a good day. It's a Tuesday. I think I should like to get married on a Tuesday.”

Anne laughed, and was kissed.

“There's nothing to laugh at. To-morrow we will go and buy your engagement ring, and your wedding ring. And if there's time before lunch, you can buy something to get married in.”

Anne gave a little scream; and as she did so, Miss Fairlie came in. She was tightly upholstered in a pre-war black satin, and wore three rows of extremely valuable pearls about a brick-red neck.

“Is he beating you already?” she said. “He will if you're not careful. He's not a young man I should marry myself. You'll be a poor, miserable, down-trodden squawâbut I suppose you don't mind.”

Anne looked rather demurely at John. She had two dimples now. There was a little sparkling something behind the dark lashes which lifted for a moment and then fell.

“I wonder,” she said.

About the Author

Patricia Wentworth (1878â1961) was one of the masters of classic English mystery writing. Born in India as Dora Amy Elles, she began writing after the death of her first husband, publishing her first novel in 1910. In the 1920s, she introduced the character who would make her famous: Miss Maud Silver, the former governess whose stout figure, fondness for Tennyson, and passion for knitting served to disguise a keen intellect. Along with Agatha Christie's Miss Marple, Miss Silver is the definitive embodiment of the English style of cozy mysteries.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Mauricio DÃaz

ISBN: 978-1-5040-3347-3

This edition published in 2016 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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