Callander Square - Anne Perry [64]
“We can hardly learn from history if we choose not to remember it,” Balantyne replied a little defensively.
“My dear Balantyne,” Campbell sat down, “the day mankind learns to profit from the lessons of history I shall look for the Second Coming. Still, it’s a harmless exercise, and I dare say they make good reading. A lot less dangerous than politics. I wish a few of your military colleagues would occupy themselves as innocuously. Why do men presume that because they purchased a commission in the army, and were fortunate enough not to get killed, that they can also purchase a seat at Westminster and survive the infinitely subtler wars of politics?”
“I have no idea,” Balantyne said tersely. “I am hardly the person to whom you should address such a question.”
“For heaven’s sake, it was an observation in passing. I don’t expect you to have an answer! I don’t expect answers from anyone. The most I ever hope for is that here and there one may find someone who at least acknowledges the question! Have you had the damned police here again?”
Balantyne stiffened.
“Yes. Why?”
“It’s about time they gave up. The whole thing’s only an academic exercise anyway, matter of public image. They should have satisfied that by now. They’ll not find out who did it, and if they’ve any sense they can never have supposed they might.”
“They have to try. It’s a very serious crime.”
“Some wretched girl had a stillborn child, or killed it straight after. For God’s sake, Balantyne, people are dying all over the place. Have you any idea how many paupers’ children die in London every year? These probably never knew anything about it. And what sort of a life would they have had? Don’t talk a lot of sentimental nonsense. What on earth were you like on the battlefield? Terrified to order the charge, in case someone got hurt?”
“You can hardly compare fighting a war to defend your ideals or your country with murdering babies!” Balantyne’s temper was very close to the surface. Charlotte could see the light shine across the tight skin on his cheekbones. It was a stronger face than Campbell’s, leaner, cleaner of bone, but there was a softer line to the closing of the lips, a vulnerability. She would like to have faced Campbell herself, driven back his clever cynicism with her own inner steel. She was not afraid of him, because she knew in her heart that to be without optimism, that core of reasonless hope in the spirit rather than the brain, was a fatal flaw, the seed of death.
Campbell sighed with obvious patience.
“It can’t be undone, Balantyne. For heaven’s sake, let us salvage what is left. I’ve already put in a few words here and there to get the police to withdraw, call it a good effort, and finish. You have friends, and so has Carlton. See what you can do. I’m sure Carlton will. Poor devil has already uncovered a basket of snakes in his own house. Although if he’s surprised, he’s the only one. Full-blooded young woman like Euphemia marries a stuffy old bird like that, don’t know what else he expected! Still, pity it has to become public. Wasn’t necessary, if the police had minded their damned business.”
Balantyne’s face was white. “It does not have to become public, unless you choose to make it so. Which, I imagine, as a gentleman, you will not!” He was half standing in his chair, as if he would offer some physical threat.
Campbell was more amused then frightened.
“Of course not. We’ve all got our skeletons. I never met a man yet who had not something he ought to be ashamed of, and certainly a hell of a lot he wanted kept secret. Do sit down, Balantyne. You look ridiculous. Just thought I’d mention it.” For the first time he glanced at Charlotte and she dropped her eyes immediately, but not before she had seen the humor in him, and the appreciation. What did he imagine she was here for? She found the blood coming to her face as the obvious thought occurred to her. She hoped the general was too innocent, and too stiff, to have thought of it also.
However, when Campbell was gone he turned to her, his