The Scandal at 23 Mount Street (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 9) Read Online Free

really meant it when he said he was retiring? There had been reports in the newspaper in the past day or two about a daring robbery in which some valuable jewellery had been stolen from a private collection at a house in Kent. A servant had been knocked out and the thief or thieves had made off through a broken window. Angela’s heart had given a great thump when she read the story, but it did not sound like his way of doing things, and sure enough it soon emerged that the police believed the theft to be the work of a well-known and ruthless gang. Angela was relieved despite herself, for although she had always maintained carelessly that it was all the same to her whether Valencourt retired or not, since she would accept no responsibility for his moral character, that part of her which would forever have a weakness for him had always secretly hoped that he would give the thing up one day. Of course they had no future together, for even if he did decide to stop doing it, there was still the unavoidable fact that he was wanted by the police in several countries and would be in danger of arrest for the rest of his life. Nonetheless, she would have liked to hear more about what he intended to do with himself now.
    By Saturday Angela had quite given up any hopes of seeing Valencourt again, so she was surprised when she returned from lunch with a friend to see a familiar figure standing in Mount Street, fifty yards or so away from her flat, apparently engaged in examining the window display of a picture-framing shop. She reached a decision and, glancing about, headed in his direction. She did not stop or turn her head when she reached him, but instead said as she passed:
    ‘I’m going to the Park. You can follow me in five minutes if you like.’
    It was a grey day, but dry at least. Angela found a bench not far from the Serpentine, from where there would be a good view of anybody approaching, and sat down. Sure enough, in a few minutes he joined her and sat down at the other end of the bench. Angela glanced about again.
    ‘I thought you’d gone,’ she said.
    ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily,’ he replied. ‘I’m sorry about the other day.’
    ‘You weren’t to know. Nor was I, for that matter.’
    ‘Weren’t you expecting him, then?’
    ‘Goodness, no,’ she said. ‘I last saw him more than two years ago when I left New York. Rather stupidly, I thought he wouldn’t follow me over here. It seems I was wrong.’
    ‘You’re not divorced, then?’
    She gave a rueful sigh.
    ‘Unfortunately not. I meant to do it—certainly ought to have done it, but somehow I never quite got around to it, and then I came back to England and he was a thousand miles away and so I thought it didn’t matter. The separation was agreed and I considered myself free. But don’t let’s talk about him—he’s not in the slightest bit important.’
    ‘Then why are you so nervous?’ said Valencourt.
    ‘Nervous? I’m not nervous.’
    ‘Yes you are. You’re all tense and worried-looking, and you keep glancing about as though you’re expecting someone to turn up.’
    ‘Do I?’ said Angela.
    ‘Yes. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were afraid.’
    ‘Nonsense. If I were afraid then I shouldn’t be here with you now,’ she said without thinking, then could have kicked herself.
    ‘Why?’ he said, suddenly alert.
    ‘Never mind. It doesn’t matter.’
    ‘Of course it does. He said something, didn’t he? About us, I mean.’
    She did not reply directly, but instead said, ‘It was all empty threats, of course. It’s not as though there’s anything to find out.’
    ‘Isn’t there?’ he said softly, and she looked up and was caught by a sudden jolt of remembrance.
    ‘Not here—not in England,’ she said, although she was aware as she spoke of how feeble that sounded.
    ‘I suppose not,’ he said. He paused for a moment, then went on, ‘I didn’t come here to make things difficult for you, Angela. As a matter