Corpse in a Gilded Cage Read Online Free Page B

she’s taking all this.’
    Lady Portsea’s reactions to ‘all this’ did not interest Mr Lillywaite. He had no curiosity about human feelings. He had never inquired about the present Earl’s reactions on succeeding. He would have shrunk from theEarl’s cliché—‘you could have knocked me down with a feather’, as like as not—though he had accepted a whole barrage of clichés from the old Earl in his time, most of them to the effect that such and such behaviour was ‘frightfully bad form’, or that the country was ‘going to the dogs’ and its working men ‘needed a good kick up the backside’. But though Mr Lillywaite did not speculate about the reactions of the new Lord and Lady Portsea, he did consider them, coolly, as possible new counters to be used on his side of the game.
    â€˜Well, that’s all settled, then,’ said the Earl. ‘You know, I don’t plan to stop here much longer. There’s nothing to keep us, thank the Lord. You go and talk to Phil, but you’ll find he certainly won’t stand in our way. And I wouldn’t take a blind bit of notice if he did. It’s “Home, Sweet Home” for Elsie and me, and I tell you it’s not a moment too soon. I always sleep light, but this business has been that much worry that I haven’t had a good night’s kip since we got to this place.’
    â€˜Certainly I’ll see Lord Portsea as soon as I can make arrangements,’ murmured Mr Lillywaite pensively.
    They were emerging now from the Mile, and Mr Lillywaite noticed with regret that the Earl cast not a second glance at the monumental pile of Chetton Hall that now stood in all its glory before them. They strolled on, an ill-assorted pair, and they had just reached the flagged floor around the fountain when Mr Lillywaite paused, puzzled. From the distance, from behind his back in fact, there came the sound of a motor vehicle. Approaching nearer. Surely it could not be . . .
    But he turned and—yes, it was. A vehicle—an estate car—was actually driving up the Countess’s Mile, throwing up clouds of sandy dust in its wake.
    â€˜Dear God!’ breathed Mr Lillywaite. ‘Does this mean the reporters are on to this at last?’
    But as he spoke the car emerged from the Mile and drew up beside them—actually drew up beside the splendid fountain designed by Auriol Jukes for the second Earl. The front window of the car was down, and from the driver’s side emerged the head and shoulders of a heavily built and heavily made-up woman, with partially blonded hair and false eyelashes. She smiled a smile that was meant to be jovial but turned out to be ferocious, and waved a plump arm in the direction of the house.
    â€˜Hey, Dad, is it semi-detached or detached?’ she yelled, and let out a yelp of laughter in self-congratulation at her wit.
    â€˜Get out, you lot,’ she shouted over her shoulder, and the back openedand a quartet of children began to jump stiffly down. The driver’s door opened briskly and the woman herself emerged. Her imposing bust was draped with a pink nylon blouse, and across her large hindquarters were stretched a pair of brilliant orange slacks.
    â€˜What a place, eh, Dad?’ she shouted, against the waters of the fountain, once more with that ferocious joviality. ‘What rent’s the Council rushing you for this little lot, then? It’s a real giggle, isn’t it: you and Elsie all on your tod in this great barn.’ She turned to the figures emerging from the front part of the car. ‘Chokey came with us to visit Phil. And you remember Sam, don’t you, Dad? We won’t interrupt.’
    And smiling a wide, ingratiating smile in the direction of Mr Lillywaite, she marched up the steps to the Dutch Garden, in the wake of her children who had scampered up before and were now gazing raptly at the great