Callander Square - Anne Perry [58]
“I cannot leave him,” she repeated mechanically. She did not want to have to tell him. “How well do you know Alan Ross, Brandy?”
“What?” His hand with the toast in it dropped in surprise.
“How well do you know Alan Ross? The question is simple enough.”
“He’s a good fellow. I suppose I know him pretty well. He closed up rather after Helena took off; but he’s beginning to come out of it now. Why?”
“I wish him to marry Christina.”
He stopped all pretense of eating and put the toast down.
“Your father doesn’t know about it yet,” she went on. “But I have excellent reasons. If you could do anything to further that end, I should be very pleased. Now I suppose I had better see this policeman again,” and she left him still staring after her.
Pitt was waiting for her by the fire, licking its first flames in a still cold grate. She closed the door behind her and stood with her back to it. He looked up, smiling. Did nothing discompose this wretched man? Perhaps he had no sense of what was proper, and thus neither of what was improper? He was enormous and untidy, too many layers of clothes on, and he greeted her with an air of easiness she did not expect, even from her friends.
“Good morning, Lady Augusta,” he said cheerfully. “I would be obliged if I could ask you a few questions.”
“Me?” She had intended to freeze him, but she was overtaken by surprise. “I know nothing about it, I assure you!”
He moved away from the fire to make room for her, and unreasonably the courtesy irritated her, perhaps because she would have preferred to find fault with him.
“I’m sure you are not aware of knowing anything,” he replied, “or you would have told me; but there may be things you have noticed, without at the time realizing their import.”
“I doubt it, but still I suppose, if you must—”
“Thank you. It is proving extremely difficult to trace the woman in the affair—”
“I’m hardly surprised!”
“No,” his mobile face fell into a wry expression, “nor I. We might have better success approaching it from another direction—to find the man.”
The thought flashed through her mind that there might be an opportunity to get rid of Max—
She looked up to find his brilliant gray eyes on her face, disconcertingly. She was conscious above all things of his intelligence; it was an unpleasant feeling to her, and quite new. She could not dominate him.
“You have thought of something?” There was a small smile on the corners of his lips.
“No,” she denied immediately. Then she decided to qualify it, in case an idea about Max came to her later. “I don’t believe so.”
“But you are a discerning woman—”
For a moment she was afraid he was going to flatter her.
“—and you have a young and attractive daughter.” There was no intent to deceive in his face, which in itself was unusual. Society was conducted on mutually agreed deceits. “You must have formed opinions as to the habits, the inclinations of the men in your circle,” he continued, “those who would be suitable for your daughter to associate with, and those who would not; above all, those whose morals were not acceptable to you.”
It was a statement she could not reasonably contradict. His conclusion was inescapable.
“Of course,” she agreed. “But I would hesitate to pass to the police as suspicions such personal dislikes or misgivings as I may entertain myself. They may be groundless, and I might thus unwittingly cause an injustice,” she raised her eyebrows slightly, questioning him in turn, giving him back the onus.
The smile on his mouth flickered upward. She wished he would not look at her so frankly. If Christina had become enamored of this man, she could have understood it a great deal more easily. But then he would very likely have sent her packing! She pulled herself together. The thought was ridiculous—and offensive.
“I will take your advice as merely that, my lady,” he said gently. “Sound advice as to where I might begin. You will agree that I have so far been extremely discreet?”
“I have no idea that you know anything about which to be indiscreet,” she said levelly,