The Wellington Bureau: A Quartermain Mystery

by Daphne Coleridge

two decades ago and he rarely, if ever, mentioned her except occasionally to ask Toby, “How is your mother?” or “How is Susan?” Toby, of course, always referred to her as mother.

  “Forgive me for being obtuse, but I didn’t realise that Lady Furnival was Toby’s mother. I’ve always heard her referred to as Susan. I take it you think that she would be embarrassed if Toby took me along to her party?”

  “Nothing would embarrass Susan. In fact, I’m certain she would not mind. After all, it was a long time ago, and there was never any ill feeling about the divorce. I was thinking of you.”

  “I’d be interested to meet her. Well, I’ll get Toby to sound her out. Not that he is renowned for his tact and diplomacy. But if you are sure she would not resent my presence or my friendship with Toby?”

  Lady Parry shook her head. “Susan is the perfect lady and the perfect hostess. She would make you quite welcome.”

  “Well, I’ll see what I can do. Will you be there?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s probably best if we act as if we have not met. Warren might put two and two together and then I’ll never find out anything.”

  “Of course. Thank you so much, Anna.”

 

  Four

  The twins stood proudly by the sleek white car.

  “It looks rather nice,” said Anna, looking at it sceptically. “Very smart. Does it go fast?”

  Bill started an excited babble of facts, “...six cylinders...3560cc...fuel injection...” were phrases that caught Anna’s ear. She was left with the impression it went quite as fast as the law allowed, probably a good deal faster.

  “Jaguar?” her attention was caught by a piece of information she could understand. “That is what the Brigadier drives. It must be a sound sort of car. A bit glossy for everyday use. When Bill learns to drive, I’ll get something else for ordinary wear. One of those funny, hump-back things with a roof that rolls off.”

  Bill looked taken aback. “Not a 2CV?” he said in disgust.

  “Could be. But you could take it in turns to drive this. I’m glad it turned up today. I’ll be needing it tonight. As for now, would you mind dropping me off outside a nice large clothes shop?”

  Anna had spoken to Toby the previous night. “About that friendly offer I turned down...to meet some of your friends. I’ve changed my mind. I’m feeling a bit dull. Anything exciting I could be towed along to without too much inconvenience to your good self? Somewhere I could meet lots of new people. The beautiful young men you promised me.”

  “I’m staggered by your sudden burst of sociability. But you’ve picked a good weekend. Mother’s having a bash. Celebrating the fact that Angus is one year closer to the grave. You won’t object to meeting mother? Giving parties is the one thing she is really splendid at.”

  “Will you ask her if she minds me gate-crashing?”

  “There’s no need for that.”

  “I’d rather you asked.”

  “OK. Oh, and I should warn you that you’ll need to put on your best bib and tucker...haul the family jewels out of the bank vault and suchlike.”

  “Not seriously?”

  “Yes. Proper evening tog.”

  “I meant about the jewels?”

  There were some Quartermain jewels. Anna had seen them once, although she had never had occasion to wear them, nor, come to that, to wear evening clothes. Andrew had only shown them to her as a curiosity because of the heavy old settings. Of course, strictly speaking, they belonged to Toby now.

  “Well, I won’t be wearing them,” he said, as if reading her mind. “So you might as well. They haven’t seen the light of day for donkeys’ years, let alone a good cleavage. I’ll pick them up for you if you like?”

  “Not all of them! Just pick out a nice necklace. Forget the earrings. They were a bit substantial, if I remember rightly. I don’t think my ears could support them. And try and find the least ostentatious necklace you can. I don’t want it to look like the family jewels, but I don’t possess any other jewellery.”

  “What! No love-gifts from father?”

  “He wasn’t a love-gift sort of man,” replied Anna shortly.

  There is something about the prospect of meeting a man’s first wife that makes a second wife suddenly self-conscious of her appearance. Even someone as little personally vain as Anna Quartermain was a victim of this syndrome. She dimly recalled having been told that Susan Quartermain had been a great beauty. Could Andrew have said such a thing? However, she must be in her forties now and there would be some going-off. Having lost the lovely flush of youth she would have taken refuge in sophistication. She would wear something in dark silk, probably black, with a high neck. Anna resolved to wear something with soft ruffles and bows and a very low neck.

  In fact Anna, who believed her self-confidence to be unassailable, found herself strangely beset by nerves. It wasn’t just the idea of meeting Lady Furnival, it was the fact that she had never attended any social event of greater magnitude than a dinner for three. Andrew had not socialized with any of the aristocracy of which he was nominally a part. And she was certainly not one of them. Her background was solidly middle class. Not that she had ever considered the fact before. In the lovely, insular world she had inhabited, such details had no meaning. She guessed, quite rightly, that in the circle she was about to enter, they would.

  Anna wore a frill-less, bow-less dress of ivory satin. Her shoulders were covered, but enough of her throat revealed to allow for the sort of jewel she anticipated. When she saw the necklace Toby had brought she was horrified. It was an ostentatious ornament. Rubies and diamonds to sit about her neck, and a single tear-drop diamond surrounded by rubies to hang in smug opulence on the extremity of her naked flesh, just brushing the satin. It was fortunate she had chosen such a simple garment. Anna found that she had been as wrong in her imaginings of Lady Furnival’s dress as of her own. She was correct in one particular only. It was black. And the years had not flawed her beauty. Anna could see at once why Andrew had married her. He had never denied his predilection for pretty women and here was something more than mere prettiness. Nor was it the patrician beauty she had expected. There was character, intelligence, challenge in her face. Deep blue, long lashed eyes, set at a slight slant, a wide expressive mouth, high cheek-bones and an air of imperturbable good breeding. What Anna was more at a loss to understand was why such a woman should have married the bookish, eccentric Viscount Quartermain. He had a peculiar charm of his own, but he could never have been a general favourite. Here, at least, was a mystery for her to solve!

  Toby introduced her as soon as she arrived.

  “Lady Quartermain, I’m delighted to meet you.” Anna was offered a slim hand to shake. The voice expressed genuine delight. But she was the consummate hostess.

  “I hope you didn’t mind Toby inviting me at such short notice?”

  “Not at all. I was so sorry to hear about Andrew. It must have been terrible for you. And your daughter too. I’m so sorry.” She was not one to shy from awkward subjects and her sympathy sounded heart-felt. Anna preferred this approach to the embarrassed skirting of the facts that she had encountered in her brother and such of his friends as she had met.

  “Emma wasn’t Anna’s daughter,” said Toby, with his usual flair for tactless comments. His mother looked momentarily embarrassed, whether for her mistake or for her son Anna could not tell. Anna smiled,

  “She wasn’t my natural daughter. But I looked after her from the time she was a baby. Most people assumed that she was mine.”

  “You both arrived on the scene at the same time,” said Toby, by way of explanation.

  “Toby, you do have an unfortunate way with words,” chided his mother.

  Anna laughed. “I’m used to Toby. The fact is that Emma was Andrew’s child. I never got round to asking who the mother was.” Anna cleared up the point before Toby made any more unfortunate comments.

  “Now I feel as if I’ve pried most awfully. Toby, do run alon
g and let me talk to Lady Quartermain in peace before you embarrass us any more!”

  He obliged with a look and gesture of mock repentance.

  Lady Furnival guided Anna to a small couch. “I really was sorry to hear about Andrew. I haven’t seen him for several years. You will know that our marriage was a disaster; but I was always fond of him.”

  “Yes. He was as difficult to dislike as he was to live with.”

  Lady Furnival laughed. “You managed better than I.”

  “I shared his interests and dislikes.”

  “I shared neither.”

  Anna found that she had an immediate bond with Lady Furnival. They had something fundamental in common. They had both loved and lived with the same man. If they had avoided the subject for fear of offence, they would have been awkward and wary. Anna thought she understood why Susan Furnival was a hostess par excellence. She knew how to deal with people.

  “Has Toby introduced you to many of his friends?”

  Anna shook her head. “He has promised to.” She glanced around at the hundred or more guests who filled the room and spilled out of the adjoined marquee onto the lawn beyond. “In fact, I can honestly say I don’t know a soul here apart from Toby.”

  “Well, I won’t leave you entirely at his mercy for introductions. But you must know Harris Butterworth? He has been invited, although I’ve not seen him yet. He’ll come and be politely withdrawn for five minutes, pay his respects, and leave.”

  It hadn’t dawned on Anna