Callander Square - Anne Perry [24]
“My dear, have I caught you at an inconvenient time?” Emily had nearly asked if she were unwell, then realized that to suggest someone looked ill was less than flattering, and she did not wish to jeopardize Christina’s somewhat tenuous friendship so soon.
“I confess,” Christina put her hand on the back of the chair and held it firmly, “I do not feel in the best of health this morning. Most unusual, for me.”
“Pray sit down,” Emily went toward her, taking her hand. “I do most sincerely hope it is but a passing indisposition, a slight chill, perhaps? After all, the change in the weather can so easily cause such things.” She was doubtful in her mind as she said it. Christina was an extremely healthy girl and she showed none of the signs of a chill, no rasping in the throat, no running nose or feverishness.
Christina slid into the chair. She looked uncommonly pale and there were the faintest of beads of perspiration on her skin.
“Perhaps a little tisane?” Emily suggested. “I’ll call the footman.”
Christina protested and shook her head, but Emily had already rung the bell. She stood by it, and when Max appeared she spoke over Christina’s head to him.
“Miss Balantyne is feeling a little unwell. Will you please have cook brew her a tisane, and send it up?”
The man’s heavy eyes looked across at Christina and Emily caught the glance. He looked away quickly and retreated to obey.
“I am sorry to have found you so,” Emily said with the best mixture of cheerfulness and sympathy she could manage. “I only came to tell you the name of the dressmaker you were inquiring for. I managed to persuade her to consider us both, although she is in the most absolute demand. She has such skill in cutting she can make even the ugliest creatures look graceful,” she smiled at Christina’s white face. “And meticulous at finishing off, no threads or half-stitched buttons. And she is so clever at designing she can hide a few extra inches so one’s own mother would not know one had put on weight.”
Christina blushed suddenly and deeply.
“What on earth are you suggesting? I am not putting on weight,” she crossed her hands over her stomach.
Emily’s mind raced.
“You’re lucky,” she said lightly. “I fear I always do in the winter.” It was a complete fabrication. “It happens without fail,” she went on. “It must be all the hot puddings and things. And I have a dreadful weakness for chocolate sauce.”
“If you will excuse me,” Christina climbed to her feet, still clutching her hands in front of herself. “I think I had better go upstairs. The mention of food has made me feel quite sick. I would be obliged if you would not tell Max. Drink the tisane yourself, if you wish.”
“Oh my dear!” Emily caught hold of her. “I’m so sorry. Let me help you, you are in no condition to be by yourself. I shall assist you at least to your rooms, and your maid can wait upon you. Shall I have someone call for the doctor?”
“No!” Christina was fierce, her eyes blazing. “I am perfectly well. It is nothing of any import. Perhaps something I have eaten does not entirely agree with me. Pray do not mention the matter. I would take it as a true sign of your friendship if you were to treat the whole incident in complete confidence,” she put out a cold little hand and grabbed Emily hard.
“Of course,” Emily reassured her. “I shall not mention it. One does not wish one’s indispositions discussed about the place. The matter is quite private.”
“Thank you.”
“Now you must come upstairs,” Emily guided her across the hall and up the wide staircase till they met her lady’s maid on the upstairs landing, who took charge of Christina.
Emily had come down again and reached as far as the hall when she was nearly brushed aside by a tall man, broad-shouldered and wide-chested, who swept by her.
“Perkins!” he shouted angrily. “Perkins, damn it!”
Emily