Callander Square - Anne Perry [62]
“Mother—”
“Brandon,” Balantyne said sharply.
In silence Christina and Brandy left.
“Well?” Balantyne asked.
Augusta looked at him incredulously. He still had no idea.
“The girl in question was Christina,” she said baldly. “She was having an affair with Max. I thought you might have perceived as much, Mr. Pitt certainly did.”
He stared at her.
“You must be mistaken!”
“Don’t be fatuous! Do you think I would make a mistake about such a thing?” Her composure slipped at last. She had either to lose her temper, or weep. “Don’t look so alarmed. I am taking care of it.” There was no need to tell him anything about the possible pregnancy. “I intend to see that she marries as soon as possible, preferably Alan Ross—”
“Does he wish to marry her?”
“Not yet, but he will be made to wish to. That is up to us—”
“Us?”
“Of course, ‘us.’ The girl cannot do it entirely by herself. I shall tell you when it is time for you to approach him. Perhaps at Christmas.”
“Isn’t that a little precipitate?” He looked at her narrowly.
“Yes. But it may be advisable.”
His face tightened.
“I see. And may I ask why Max is still in the house? Surely she does not entertain ideas about marrying him?”
“Of course not! She has no interest in him, beyond—the—anyway, it is all over. I will get rid of him as soon as I think of a satisfactory method. At the moment the most important thing is to maintain his silence. That can best be done by suffering him to remain here, at least for the present.”
“You mean until Christina is married.”
“More or less.”
“Augusta?”
For the first time she looked at him.
“No,” she said simply, answering the question in his mind. “I certainly have made a grave error over Max. I did not judge her well, not know her as I should have: but she had nothing to do with the children in the garden. I should have known that.” Peculiarly, she felt ashamed, meeting his eyes like this. It was her job to have known her daughter, and to have seen that this did not happen.
Balantyne said nothing.
“I’m sorry,” she felt compelled to say it.
He put his hand on her arm and patted it, then took it away as if he were not quite sure why he had done it.
“What about the police?” he asked.
“I think Pitt and I understand each other,” she replied. “He is a very clever man. He knows that I know it was not Christina. That will satisfy him, at least for a considerable time. Although he may well believe that Max might have—other—” she shook herself. “Anyway, Mr. Pitt is not our problem for the immediate future. We must consider Christina and Alan Ross.”
“I don’t know how you can be—so—” He looked at her with incomprehension, and something not entirely devoid of distaste.
Surprisingly, it hurt.
“What would you have me do?” she said stiffly. “Weep? Or faint? What help would that be? We must solve the problem now. There will be time enough to indulge our feelings afterward, when she is safely married.”
“And if Ross does not wish to marry her?”
“He must be made to wish to. Or else we shall find someone else. You can begin to think of others, just in case.”
“Don’t you feel anything? Your daughter has lain with a footman, in our own house—”
“What difference does it make where it happened! Of course I feel something—but I do not intend to buckle under it and let a mistake turn into a disaster! Now you had better go back to your papers, that wretched Miss what’s-her-name will soon be here. If you wish to be useful, start to think who else would be suitable for Christina, if Ross proves impossible. I am going to make up my social diary for Christina,” and before he could argue, she went out. There was much to be done.
Charlotte had been shown straight into the library when she arrived and she went immediately to the letters she had been sorting the previous day. She did not notice that it was a half hour before the general appeared.
“Good morning, Miss Ellison.”
“Good morning, General Balantyne,” she looked up as she spoke, as courtesy required, and noticed that he stood unusually stiffly, as though conscious of himself and a new awkwardness.