Callander Square - Anne Perry [92]
“What?” Reggie nearly dropped the decanter.
“Haven’t spoken to him already?” Pitt raised his eyebrows.
“Did—did he say I had?” Reggie realized as soon as he had said it that it was a stupid question. “I mean—er—”
“Have you?”
“Well—” What in hell should he say? Damn the man, what did he know? If only Reggie could ascertain how much he already knew, then he could tailor his replies! This fishing round in the darkness was frightful.
Pitt pulled a small face—extraordinary face the fellow had—and looked at his fingernails.
“Normal enough, a bit of admiration for a good-looking maid,” Pitt went on thoughtfully. “Lot of men do it. Nothing to remark on. Just could be made to look a bit unfortunate right now.” He looked up, his brilliant, penetrating gaze fixed on Reggie. “Hasn’t been bothering you—Dr. Bolsover—has he?”
Reggie stared. His brain seemed to melt and freeze again. What should he say? Could he trust Freddie? This was an opportunity to get rid of all of it! Or was it? Just a moment! What if Pitt went to Freddie and charged him? Then Freddie would tell them all about Dolly, and that was quite different! Or did they already know that he had been to the bank and drawn out the hundred pounds? Had he spoken to the footman? Was that the thing? Careful, Reggie, think before you speak. Nearly fell into a trap there.
“Good heavens, no,” he forced a sickly smile. “Decent chap, Freddie. Bit of a silly ass at times, that’s all. Wouldn’t mean any harm.”
“Glad to hear that, sir.” Pitt’s eyes did not move from Reggie’s face. “Just thought you might have had a little trouble.”
“Er—trouble? What made you think that?” Must find out what he actually knew.
“Talk to all the servants,” Pitt said lightly, “in the course of investigations, you know.”
Reggie stared fixedly at Pitt’s face.
He knew! He knew about the footman and the bank! If he told a lie about what he had done with the hundred pounds, the damn fellow would go and check up on it, and find out! Too easy. Have to invent something else.
“Well,” he began awkwardly, brain racing. Who should he blame, if not Freddie? Who could not deny it? Who was likely? “Well—to tell you the truth, have had a bit of trouble—not Freddie of course, Freddie’s a gentleman. Governess—” yes, that’s it, “governess got a bit het up—single woman, no admirers, stuck in a job minding children all day. Got a few wild ideas and put a bit of pressure on. Any other time I’d have sent her packing, but right now, as you say, a bit embarrassing. Paid her. Dare say I shouldn’t have, but got to keep the peace, what? You’re a married man. Expect you understand. Sooner pay the girl than have her spread gossip all over the place. She won’t do it again. Anyway, after you clear up all this business, no need, eh?”
“Oh, no,” Pitt pulled a small face. “I take it you don’t want to prosecute?”
“Good God, no! Whole purpose of paying up, keep it all quiet. Deny it all, if you go to her: so shall I! Have to, after all. Wife, and all that. Got to consider the children too. Three daughters. Dare say you knew? Actually two of my own, Chastity’s my brother’s child. Poor fellow was killed. Took her in, naturally.”
“Yes, charming child.”
“Yes, yes. Well, you understand, don’t you? Got to keep it all quiet. Nasty thing if it got out. Very fond of the governess, the girls. And good at her job too,” he said hastily. “Very good.”
“Quite. Well, thank you, sir, you’ve been very helpful.”
“Good. Good. Get it all cleared up soon, I hope?”
“I hope so too. Good night sir, and thank you.”
“Good night; yes, yes, good night.”
Charlotte was incensed when she heard about it the following day. She whirled round from the sideboard where she had been standing, to face Pitt in his chair.
“You mean that that dissipated bounder claimed that Jemima was blackmailing him, and you just stood there and let him?” she demanded. “That’s dastardly!”
“I could hardly contradict him,” Pitt pointed out reasonably. “It seems unlikely, but not by any means impossible.”
”Of course