Meet the Baron by John Creasey

Author:John Creasey [Creasey, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9780755117758
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2004-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

It was not difficult to ensure an invitation from the Overndons for the wedding, as he had guessed.

Mannering had discovered that Lady Mary and Marie were staying at Colonel George Belton’s town house in Park Square. When in London Belton’s visits to his club were made with clockwork regularity, and on the morning following the talk with Bristow Mannering walked to the Square, expecting to see the Colonel. He met his man — the first time they had seen each other since the affair at Overndon Manor — and for the moment the Colonel stood still, staring, and obviously at a loss. Mannering’s smile put him at his ease.

They shook hands warmly.

“Very pleasant to see you again,” said the Colonel, whose moustache was whiter than ever and whose complexion was, if anything, a trifle more rosy. “Lady Mary’d be glad to  see you, John. Why not. . .”

It was typical of the soldier, thought Mannering with a smile, to do his best to put his foot in it. But as the younger man wanted the foot just where it was he nodded.

“How’s everybody?” he asked, as they turned towards the house.

“Excellent, excellent,” said the Colonel. “Marie — harr — umph — is out of town for a couple of days. Er” — the older man swallowed hard — “you know, of course, about . . .”

“Marie,” said Mannering with a laugh. “Yes — that’s why I’m so interested.”

They chatted for some minutes in the house before Lady Mary came in. She looked as sharp as ever, and for her bluntness Mannering had nothing but admiration.

“I was afraid,” she said after the mutual greeting, “you were going to be cinema-esque about that affair, and go off after big game or the chorus. It’s satisfying to find you so individual, John.”

Mannering laughed easily. Lady Mary, he noticed, still wore the frocks thai good Queen Victoria had thought chic, still looked severe, arrogant, and bad-tempered; her voice was still rather low, her words uttered slowly, and all the time there was a twinkle in her fine grey eyes.

“All habits get old-fashioned,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s forget it, shall we?”

The others agreed, and Mannering spent a pleasant hour.

He was preparing to go when another caller arrived, and he met the man who — although he could not guess it then — was going to loom very large in his future adventures.

“Hallo, Gerry!” greeted the Colonel. “Ha, Mannering, you haven’t met — no? Well — Gerry Long from America, Boston. Gerry — John Mannering. . . .”

Long was tall, lean-hipped, wide-shouldered, and pleasant-faced. Like many Americans, he looked nearer twenty-one than twenty-seven, an impression fostered by his corn-coloured hair and his very light skin. He had a free-and-easy attitude, and an easier laugh; Mannering liked him instantly.

“I’ve been told,” said Long cheerfully, “that no man knows England — London especially — as well as you, Mannering.”

“You’ve been told wrong,” smiled the other.

Colonel Belton haw-hawed.

“Don’t you believe it, Gerry, don’t believe it. The young limb’s been painting London red for — for .

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