The Horse You Came in On Read Online Free Page A

remembered the first time he saw her and not the last. But Lady Cray had not known Jane Holdsworth, though she had known the family, finally. Jane was there at the beginning, Lady Cray at the very end.
    He was only partly conscious of asking her about the Holdsworths, but he supposed he must have, as he looked away, through the french windows to the cold garden beyond.
    â€œOf course I’ve seen them! Did you think I wouldn’t? Alex and Millie . . .”
    Jury was only half listening as she talked on about Alex Holdsworth and the little girl, Millie. The smile frozen on his face must have looked natural enough, for she didn’t seem to notice anything absent in his responses.
    â€œThey live there now, you know, with Adam. He still goes to Castle Howe occasionally, just to drive them all crazy. We have an absolutely wonderful time, Alex and Millie and I. We go to violent films together—terminators, aliens, and so forth—and I get a few of my unsuspecting friends together and we all play poker. Alex does, rather. And we spend a good bit of time at Cheltenham races.”
    â€œWinning?”
    She raised her eyebrows. “Well, of course, winning. We’d hardly go to lose, would we?”
    His smile now was genuine enough; it was hard not to smile, thinking of Alex and poker and the ponies.
    A maid entered with a silver tray and ice bucket, managing to set down silver tea service and Dom Pérignon with practiced movements. Wiggins rose to help with tray and bucket and was rewarded with a timid smile; the deployment of the champagne in the ice bucket and the tall, fluted glasses was done in a dither of cast-down glances, as if she wondered if she had the right to be in the drawing room. To Wiggins’s kind murmurings, she made no reply.
    Said Lady Cray when the maid had made her exit, “Afraid of her own shadow, I sometimes think. Don’t take a blind bit of notice, Sergeant Wiggins. Sugar?”
    Wiggins had opted for tea, and when Lady Cray held the silver bowl aloft, he told her three, please. “But she seems quite good at her job,” he said, his glance having followed the little maid all the way out of the door.
    Jury took his cup, and their hostess poured herself a glass of champagne.
    â€œShe’s certainly a superior cook. She’s clever, too, surprisingly enough. I always think it’s too bad to combine superb cooking with social awkwardness, but there you are. I put up with the speechlessness to get the cooking. Fanny was very fond of her, though.” Lady Cray sighed. Here she leaned forward and picked up an unusual bit of sculpture, a block of turquoise banded with silver and adorned with a little silver figure playing a flute. “I shall truly miss Fanny Hamilton, Superintendent. It’s her nephew I talked to the commissioner about. But may I first tell you something about Fanny?” She replaced the turquoise piece and sat back.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œShe moved in here with me about a year ago, after I came back from Castle Howe. . . .” She paused and gave Jury a look. “Incidentally, I’m not sure what might have happened had it not been for that whiz of a barrister.”
    Pete Apted, Q.C. Jury smiled. He was the legendary barrister who had taken on the defense in that instance. “Yes. Mr. Apted doesn’t take hostages, does he?”
    She went on. “Fanny was, in many ways, a silly woman. Well, perhaps I am too. But we weren’t very much alike, and I might not have had her here to live had it not been for the great friendship of our respective husbands. Bobby and Dickie—Dickie was Lord Cray, incidentally—were just the best of friends imaginable. Both of them were pretty silly, too; but they were lovable. And when it comes to the ‘male bonding’ thing, well, Bobby and Dickie could have given lessons.” Here she held up crossed fingers to testify to this close friendship,