Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [27]
Charlotte felt a terrible fear paralyse her, robbing her of breath. He had come to tell her terrible news of Pitt; even in her own mind she could not think the words.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you so late,’ he said. His voice was almost normal, but she heard in its slight tremor the effort that it cost him. He stood in front of her. His eyes were so dark they were black in the lamplight, but curiously she could read the expression in them perfectly. He was hurt, and there was an emptiness inside him that had not been there two days ago.
He must have read her fear. How could he not? It filled the room.
He smiled thinly. ‘I have not heard from Thomas again, but there is no reason to believe he is other than in excellent health, and probably having better weather than we have,’ he said gently. ‘Although I dare say he finds it tedious hanging about the streets watching people, while trying to look as if he is on holiday.’
She swallowed, her mouth dry, relief making her dizzy. ‘Then what is it?’
A ghost of amusement lit his eyes for an instant, then vanished. ‘Oh dear, am I so obvious?’
It was more candid than he had ever been with her before, almost as if they knew each other well. She was surprised, and yet it did not feel unnatural.
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I’m afraid you look dreadful. Can I get you something? Tea, or whisky? That is, if we have any. Now that I’ve offered it, I’m not sure that we do. The best of it might have gone at Gracie’s wedding.’
‘Oh, yes, Gracie.’ This time he did smile, and there was real warmth in it, changing his face. ‘I shall miss seeing her here. She was magnificent, all five foot of her.’
‘Four foot eleven, if we are honest,’ Charlotte corrected him with answering warmth. ‘Believe me, you could not possibly miss her as much as I do.’
‘I hear intense feeling in your voice,’ he remarked, moving to stand a little closer to the fire, although the evening was not cold. ‘You do not care for Mrs . . . Lemon?’
‘Waterman,’ she corrected him. ‘But Lemon would suit her. I don’t think she approves of me. Perhaps we shall become accustomed to one another one day. She does cook well, and you could eat off the floors when she has scrubbed them.’
‘Thank you, but the table will do well enough,’ Narraway observed.
She sat down on the sofa. Standing so close to him in front of the fire was becoming uncomfortable. ‘You did not come to enquire after my domestic arrangements. And even if you had known Mrs Waterman, she is not sufficient to cause the gravity I see in your face. What has happened?’ She was holding her hands in her lap, and realised that she was gripping them together hard enough to hurt. She forced herself to let go.
There was a moment or two with no sound in the room but the flickering of the fire, as if he had not framed in his mind what he meant to say.
She waited, the anxiety growing inside her again, her fingers finding each other and locking.
He drew in his breath, then changed his mind. He looked away from her, into the heart of the fire.
‘I have been relieved of my position in Special Branch. They say that it is temporary, but they will make it permanent if they can.’ He swallowed as if his throat hurt, and turned his head to look at her. ‘The thing concerning you is that I have no more access to my office at Lisson Grove, or any of the papers that are there. I will no longer know what is happening in France, or anywhere else. My place has been taken by Charles Austwick, who neither likes nor trusts Pitt. The former is a matter of jealousy because Pitt was recruited after him, and has received preferment in fact, if not in rank, which has more than equalled his. The latter is because they have little in common. Austwick comes from the army, Pitt from