And it was this that was worrying Reggie. Like most men, in his opinion, he availed himself of the odd pleasure with a handsome parlormaid. After all, what healthy man, woken in his bed in the morning by a young, clear-skinned, well-rounded wench bending over him, would not be tempted? And if she was willing, as they invariably were, why resist? His wife, Adelina, was well enough, and she had borne him three children, although unfortunately the boy had died. But she had taken no enjoyment in it; she suffered his advances with fortitude and did what she had been taught was her duty. Parlormaids enjoyed it, laughed, responded in a fashion that would have been unthinkable in a woman of quality.
Naturally one did not marry parlormaids. Everyone knew of such arrangements, but one conducted oneself discreetly. One did not wish to be the subject of gossip, nor to embarrass one’s wife. What was presumed and what was actually known were two entirely different things.
But as he had already realized, the police might fail to understand how these things were conducted to the satisfaction of all concerned. It would be very difficult if this Pitt fellow were to discover Reggie’s present taste for the parlormaid, Mary Ann. He might misconstrue it entirely. The girl was uncommonly handsome, quite the best looking Reggie could recalclass="underline" and she had been in service in Callander Square for three years.
Great heavens! It wasn’t possible that she-actually-? Reggie broke out in a cold sweat, in spite of the fire. He took a rapid swig at the brandy and poured himself another. For pity’s sake, calm down, man! Remember the trim waist, the saucy bottom. She had not been with child in this house! Surely he could not be so unobservant as not to have noticed? She was a big girl. Would she have changed shape so obviously? He had to admit, he had been very spasmodic in his attentions. Sometimes he had been away for weeks at a time-but this was ridiculous! Someone would have noticed! He was worrying for nothing.
It was only a matter of making sure that the police did not leap to any foolish and entirely unwarranted conclusions. How intelligent was this chap, Pitt? Was he a man of the world? Some of the working classes could be appallingly narrow-minded: quite distressingly vulgar in their speech and eating, not to mention dress, but positive prudes when it came to personal liberty. It could be very trying having to deal with them. Pity the man in this case could not have been a gentleman, who would have understood; indeed, would not even have needed an explanation.
Better to forestall the whole business by seeing the others in the square who might be affected, and come to some understanding. Between them they ought to be able to keep this police fellow out of harm’s way, discreetly.
He had made up his mind to this, and was feeling considerably easier, when there was a knock on the door. He was surprised. Servants did not usually knock. If they had something to do, they simply came in and did it.
“Come in,” he answered, swiveling to face the entrance.
The door opened and the governess, Jemima, stood there.
Reggie sat up with a smile. Handsome girl, Jemima, though a bit on the thin side. He liked a rounder bosom, plumper shoulders; but there was a definite charm about her, a spirit in the way she held her head, a delicacy of bone. He had frequently been on the point of putting his arm round her in response to the inviting femininity of her slender back; but she had always moved away, or someone else had appeared.
Now she stood in front of him, looking levelly at him.
“Yes, Jemima?” he said cheerfully.
“Mrs. Southeron said I should speak to you concerning Miss Faith’s music, sir. Miss Faith wishes to learn the violin, instead of the piano-”
“Well, let her, by all means. You are competent in the violin, aren’t you?” Why on earth did Adelina send him such trivial matters?
“Yes, Mr. Southeron. But since Miss Chastity already plays the violin, that will give us two violins and a cello. There is very little music written for such a trio.”
“Oh, yes. I see. Well, perhaps Chastity would like to learn the piano?”
“No, she wouldn’t,” Jemima smiled. She had a charming smile, it went all the way to her eyes. She would have made a good parlormaid, had she been a little sturdier.
“Send her to me, I’ll change her mind,” Reggie leaned farther back in his chair and slid his feet toward the fire.
“Yes, sir,” Jemima turned and walked to the door. She had a nice walk, straight-backed, head high. She was one of those country girls with a swinging step. She made him think of open skies and clean, windy shores: things he liked to contemplate from a winter armchair, or see in a good painting. She was a pleasing creature, Jemima.
It was quite five minutes before Chastity arrived.
“Come in,” Reggie smiled and sat up a little.
She obeyed, solemn-faced, her hair tied back making her eyes look unusually wide.
“Sit down,” Reggie offered, pointing to the chair opposite him.
Instead of perching on the edge, like the other children, she snuggled far back in the deep corner, like a cat, with her feet tucked under her. She still managed to look prim. She waited for him to speak.
“Would you like to learn to play the piano, Chastity?” he asked.
“No, thank you, Uncle Reggie.”
“Playing the piano is a most useful art. You can sing at the same time. You cannot sing at the same time as playing the violin,” he pointed out.
She lifted her chin very slightly and stared back at him.
“I cannot sing anyway,” she said with blank honesty. “No matter what I played.” She hesitated, looking at him with thought. “Faith can. She sings very well.”
The argument defeated him, and he could see from the look in her bright, frank eyes that she knew it.
“Why doesn’t Faith play the cello?” she pressed home her advantage. “Then Patience could learn the piano. She can sing, too.”
He looked at her with a jaundiced eye.
“And if I tell you to play the piano?”
“I shall be no good at it,” she said decidedly. “And then we shall have no trio, and that would be a shame.”
He narrowed his eyes and poured himself another brandy, admiring the rich color of it shining like smoky topaz in the firelight.
“That would be a pity,” Chastity was still regarding him with measured consideration. “Because Aunt Adelina likes us to play for her guests sometimes, at her afternoon parties.”
He gave up. He was about to try another tack, to wit, bribery, when the footman opened the door and announced Inspector Pitt.
Reggie swore under his breath. He had not yet considered his defense. Chastity snuggled still farther into the recesses of the chair. He looked at her.
“You may go, Chastity. We will discuss the matter another time.”
“But that’s the policeman with the untidy hair, Uncle Reggie and I like him.”
“What?” he was startled.
“I like him. Mayn’t I stay and talk to him? I might be able to tell him something!”
“No, you may not. There is absolutely nothing you could possibly know that would be of any use to him. Now go upstairs and have your tea. It must be tea time. It’s getting dark.”
She climbed out of the chair reluctantly and meandered to the door where Pitt was standing holding it open for her. She stopped, craning her head to look up at him.
“Good afternoon, Miss Southeron,” he said solemnly.
She dropped a small curtsey and the corner of her mouth flickered reluctantly into a smile.
“Good afternoon, sir.”