Callander Square - Anne Perry [79]
“Helena,” Charlotte whispered. “Poor Helena.”
EIGHT
REGGIE SOUTHERON ARRIVED home from his afternoon of card-playing to find Adelina looking tearful and white-faced. It was annoying. He himself was in excellent spirits, having won a handsome sum of money, shared some excellent brandy, rich cigars, and even richer jokes. He had fully intended to keep the same roseate glow all evening, and to discover Adelina in such mind was distinctly dampening. He tried to jolly her out of it; after all, women wept so easily, it was probably nothing of significance.
“Don’t you feel very well?” he said cheerfully. “Never mind, it’ll pass. Take half a glass of brandy, pick you up no end. I’ll join you.”
To his surprise she agreed, and a few minutes later they were in the withdrawing room, curtains closed against the night, sharing the warmth of a considerable fire. Suddenly Adelina began weeping again, dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes.
“For goodness’ sake, my dear,” he said a little sharply. “Pull yourself together! Nothing is helped by sniffling.”
She gave him a bleak look and wiped her eyes harder.
“I can only presume that you do not know,” she said indignantly.
“I do not,” he agreed. “And if it makes you as miserable as you look, I do not wish to. If some sort of calamity has befallen someone, I’m sorry, but since I cannot help, I am happy to remain ignorant of the sordid details.”
“It is your duty to know!” she said accusingly.
He started to protest, but she was not to be stemmed.
“Helena Doran has been found!”
“Is that cause for weeping? She ran off. If she now does not like her circumstance, that is a pity, but hardly our responsibility!”
“Dead!” Adelina let the word fall like a damnation. “She has been dead for two years, sitting there on the swing seat in the garden of the empty house, all by herself, just as if she were alive. She must have been murdered, of course!”
He did not wish to believe it; it was horrible, a rude and ugly disturbance of all that was safe and comfortable, all that he liked.
“Why ‘of course’?” he demanded. “She could have died of a heart attack, or a seizure, or something.”
“She was with child!”
“You mean they’ve done a post mortem?” he said in surprise, and some disgust. “Already?”
“She was barely more than a skeleton,” she began to weep again. “There were bones. Nellie told me.”
“Who is Nellie?” Nobody came to mind.
“The scullery maid. Can’t you even remember your own servants’ names?”
He was genuinely surprised.
“Why on earth should I? I don’t suppose I’ve ever seen her. I’m sorry about Helena, but really my dear, it is a most gruesome subject. Let us discuss something else. I’m sure you’ll feel better for it.” He had a sudden inspiration. “And we don’t want to upset the children. They will know if you are distressed. It is hardly something we would wish them to know about.” It was actually a ridiculous hope. Chastity at least would discover it in great detail, in fact probably already knew: but it sounded both sympathetic and wise to say so.
Adelina looked at him dubiously, but she did not argue.
Reggie settled down to a pleasant evening by the fire, a good dinner, a little port; and perhaps just a touch more brandy. Helena and her affairs were beyond help now, so there was nothing to be gained for anyone by dwelling on thoroughly unpleasant subjects such as corpses in wet gardens, and murders, and the like.
However, his peace was broken about nine o’clock when the butler brought a new bottle of port, and announced at the same time that