Callander Square - Anne Perry [57]
“I wish you would dismiss him anyway. I find the very thought of him offensive now.”
“I dare say you do. I find it hard to understand how you ever found it anything else. But unfortunately it is not so easy to bury our mistakes. Max has taken steps to see that I do not, and I have not yet thought of a way round them; but I shall. Now consider your future, and behave with your utmost charm; you have exercised yourself to enchant men well enough in the past. Do not overdo it; Alan, like most men, will wish to believe he has done the choosing and the pursuing himself. Allow him to persist in that belief. And wear pink as often as may be. It becomes you, and men like it.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Good. Now compose yourself, and let us direct out efforts to that end.”
“Yes, Mama.”
The following morning Augusta was late over breakfast, which was most unusual for her. She had slept badly. The whole business with Max had distressed her more than she had realized at the time. Perhaps her mastery of herself was not as perfect as she believed. She was still at the breakfast table at half past nine when Brandy came back for another cup of tea. He sat down opposite her, looking at her closely.
“You look a little bashed this morning, Mother. In fact you look the way I feel after a night at the club.”
“Don’t be impertinent,” she said, but without sharpness. She was extremely fond of her son, indeed she might say with honesty she liked him best of all her family. There was a cheerfulness about him that was gentler then Christina, and warmer than his father. Also he was one of the few people who could make her laugh even when she did not wish to.
Now he was squinting at her thoughtfully.
“Hope you haven’t caught Christina’s chill.”
“That is hardly likely,” she said with a shudder.
“I don’t suppose you’d take a day in bed,” he reached for another piece of toast and started a second breakfast. “That would be too much like admitting frailty. But it might show sense. Give it a thought, Mother.” He smiled. “If you like, I’ll swear blind you’ve gone to the races, or shopping!”
“Where on earth should I go to the races, at this time of the year?”
“All right, I’ll say you’ve gone cockfighting, then!” he grinned.
“They’ll be more likely to believe it if you left a note saying we’d both gone,” she replied, meeting his eyes with a smile, in spite of herself.
He shivered.
“Nonsense. I’ve no stomach for blood sports.”
“And do you think that I have?”
“Certainly. You’d have scared the hell out of Napoleon, if he’d met you on a social occasion.”
She sniffed. “Have you just poured yourself the last of the tea?”
“Wouldn’t dare. Really, Mother, you do look a bit dragged out. Take a day off. It’s a decent day, a bit cold, but quite dry. I’ll take you for a drive. We’ll get out the best horses!”
She was tempted. There was nothing she would like better than a drive away from Callander Square, with Brandy. She lingered on the idea, savoring it.
“Come on!” he urged. “Crisp air, fast horses, crunch of wheels on a new road. Last of the beech leaves are still red on the trees.”
She looked at his smooth, olive-skinned face and saw the child in him now, as twenty years ago she had seen the man in him then. Before she could accept, the door opened and Max came in.
“Inspector Pitt is here again, my lady, from the police. Will you see him?”
The crisp air, the flying hooves, and the laughter collapsed.
“I suppose I have no choice,” she pushed her chair back and stood up. “If not now, it will only put him off until later. Put him in the morning room, Max, I’ll see him in a few minutes.”
Brandy was still eating.
“Is it about the wretched babies still? I don’t know why they persist, they’ll never find out whose they were, poor little beggars. I suppose they have to try, but it must be a rotten job. Do you want me to see him? He probably only wants permission to question the servants again.”
“No, thank you, but I appreciate the offer, my dear. I would love to come driving with you, but I cannot.”
“Why not? He’s hardly