A Suitable Match. Бетти Нилс

THREE

      EUSTACIA looked at Sir Colin in horror. ‘Oh, how awful—I am sorry!’ Her gentle mouth shook and she bit her lip. ‘The boys…they’re so very small.’ She went up to him and put a hand on his arm. ‘Is there anything that I can do to help?’

      She looked quite beautiful with her hair loose around her shoulders, bundled into her dressing-gown—an unglamorous garment bought for its long-lasting capacity—her face pale with shock and distress, longing to comfort him.

      He looked down at her and then at her hand on his arm. His eyes were hard and cold, and she snatched her hand away as though she had burnt it and went to the Aga and poured the coffee into a cup. She should have known better, of course; she was someone filling a gap until circumstances suited him to make other arrangements. He wouldn’t want her sympathy, a stranger in his home; he wasn’t a man to show his feelings, especially to someone he hardly knew. She felt the hot blood wash over her face and felt thankful that he wouldn’t notice it.

      She asked him in her quiet voice, ‘Would you like your coffee here or in your study, Sir Colin?’

      ‘Oh, here, thank you. Go to bed, it’s late.’

      She gave a quick look at his stony face and went without a word. In her room she sat on the bed, still in her dressing-gown, going over the past half-hour in her mind. She wondered why she had been telephoned by him; there had been no need, it wasn’t as if he had wanted to talk to her—quite the reverse. And to talk helped, she knew that from her own grief and shock when her parents had died. It was a pity that he had no wife in whom he could confide. There was that girl the boys had talked about, but perhaps he had been on his own when he’d had the news.

      She sighed and shivered a little, cold and unhappy, and then jumped with fright when there was a tap on the door and, before she could answer it, Sir Colin opened it and came in.

      He looked rigidly controlled, but the iciness had gone from his voice. ‘You must forgive me, Eustacia—I behaved badly. I am most grateful for your sympathy, and I hope you will overlook my rudeness—it was unintentional.’

      ‘Well of course it was, and there’s nothing to forgive. Would you like to sit down and talk about it?’ Her voice was warm and friendly, but carefully unemotional. ‘It’s the suddenness, isn’t it?’

      She was surprised when he did sit down. ‘I was just leaving the house—I had a dinner date—we were standing in the hall while Grimstone, my butler, fetched my—my companion’s handbag. When the phone rang I answered it but I wasn’t really listening; we had been laughing about something or other. It was a long-distance call from Brunei. Whoever it was at the other end told me twice before I realised…’ He paused, and when he went on she guessed that he was leaving something out. ‘I had to get away, but I wanted to talk about it too. I got into the car and drove here and I’m not sure why I phoned you on the way.’

      ‘Tell me about it,’ said Eustacia quietly, ‘and then you can decide what has to be done. Once that’s settled you can sleep for a little while.’

      ‘I shall have to fly there and arrange matters.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘It is too late now…’

      ‘First thing in the morning.’

      His smile shook her. ‘What a sensible girl you are. I have to tell the boys before I go.’ He looked at her. ‘You’ll stay?’

      ‘As long as I’m needed. Tell me about your brother and his wife.’

      ‘He was younger than I, but he married when he was twenty-three. He was an architect, a good one, with an international reputation. He and Sadie, his wife, travelled a good deal. The boys usually went with them, but this time they weren’t too happy about taking them to the Far East. They were to go for three months and I had the boys—their nanny came with them but her mother was taken ill and she had to leave. Mrs Samways has done her best and so has my cook, Miss Grimstone. It was most fortunate that we made your acquaintance and that the boys took to you at once.’

      ‘Yes. It helps, I hope. Now, we are going to the kitchen again and I’m going to make a pot of tea and a plate of toast and you will have those and then go to bed. When you’ve slept for a few hours you will be able to talk to the boys and arrange whatever has to be arranged.’

      ‘You are not only sensible but practical too.’

      It was after two o’clock by the time she got to bed, having made sure that Sir Colin had gone to his room. She didn’t sleep for some time, and when she got up just after six o’clock she looked a wreck.

      The boys were still sleeping and the house was quiet. She padded down to the kitchen and put the kettle on. A cup of tea would help her to start what was going to be a difficult day. She was warming the teapot when Sir Colin joined her. He was dressed and shaved and immaculately turned out, and he looked to be in complete control of his feelings.

      ‘Did you sleep?’ asked Eustacia, forgetting to add the ‘Sir Colin’ bit. And when he nodded, ‘Good—will you have a cup of tea? The boys aren’t awake yet. When do you plan to tell them?’

      He stood there, drinking his tea, studying her; she was one of the few girls who could look beautiful in an old dressing-gown and with no make-up first thing in the morning, and somehow the sight of her comforted him. ‘Could we manage to get through breakfast? If I tell them before that they won’t want to eat—we must try and keep to the usual day’s routine.’

      ‘Yes, of course. May I tell Grandfather before breakfast? He is a light sleeper and there’s just the chance he heard the car last night and he might mention it and wonder why you came.’

      ‘A good point; tell him by all means. Samways will be down in a few minutes, and I’ll tell him. He was fond of my brother…’ He put down his cup. ‘I shall be in the study if I’m wanted.’

      She did the best she could to erase the almost sleepless night from her face, thankful that her grandfather had taken her news quietly and with little comment save the one that he had heard the car during the night and had known that someone was up and talking softly. Satisfied that she couldn’t improve her appearance further, she went to wake the boys.

      ‘Have you got a cold?’ asked Teddy.

      ‘Me? No. I never get colds. But I didn’t go to sleep very early. I had such an exciting book…’

      They discussed the pleasures of reading in bed as they dressed, and presently the three of them went downstairs and into the dining-room.

      Sir Colin was sitting at the table, a plate of porridge before him, reading his post; her grandfather was leafing through the Guardian. The scene was completely normal and just for a moment Eustacia wondered if she had dreamed the night’s happenings.