Bedford Square by Anne Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

there was no questioning that this particular gown was as successful as anything she had ever worn, either owned or borrowed.
    She left the house and went out into the sunshine of Keppel Street. There was no need to think of transport, as she had no more than a few hundred yards to go. It was odd to think of General Balantyne’s having moved to live so close by, and she had never encountered him. But then there must be scores of her neighbors she had not seen. And in spite of their proxfrownedimity to each other, Bedford Square and Keppel Street were socially of a very considerable difference.
    She nodded to two young ladies walking side by side, and they nodded back to her politely, then immediately fell into animated conversation. An open brougham clattered past, its occupants surveying the world with superior interest. A man walked by swiftly, looking to neither side of him.
    Charlotte did not know which house was the Balantynes’. Pitt had simply said “in the center of the north side.” She gritted her teeth and rang the bell of the one that seemed most likely. It was answered by a handsome parlormaid who informed her that she was mistaken and that General Balantyne lived two doors farther along.
    Charlotte thanked her with as much aplomb as possible and retreated. She would have liked to abandon the whole thing at this point. She had not even any coherent plan as to what she would say if he were in and would receive her. She had come entirely on impulse. He might have changed completely since they had last met. It had been four years. Tragedy did change people.
    This was a ridiculous idea, quixotic and open to the ugliest misinterpretations. Why was she still walking forward instead of turning on her heel and going home?
    Because she had told Gracie she was going to see a friend who had been visited by misfortune and assure him of her loyalty. She could hardly go back home and admit that her nerve had failed her and she was afraid of making a fool of herself. Gracie would despise her for that. She would despise herself.
    She strode up the steps, seized the doorbell and pulled it firmly before she could have time to think better of it.
    She stood with her heart pounding, as if when the door opened she could be facing mortal danger. She had visions of Max, the footman the Balantynes had had years before, and all the tragedy and violence that had followed, and Christina … how that would have hurt the General. She had been his only daughter.
    This was absurd. She was grossly intrusive! Why on earthshould she imagine he wished to see her now, after all that Pitt had been forced to do to their family, and Charlotte had helped. She was practically the last person on earth he would have any kindness for. He certainly would not care for her friendship. It was tasteless of her to have come … and hopelessly conceited.
    She stepped back and had half turned away to leave when the door opened and a footman asked her very distinctly, “Good morning, ma’am, may I help you?”
    “Oh … good morning.” She could ask for directions somewhere. Pretend to be looking for some fictitious person. She did not have to say she had called here. “I … I wonder if …”
    “Miss Ellison! I mean … I beg your pardon, ma’am, Mrs. Pitt, isn’t it?”
    She stared at him. She could not remember him. How could he possibly have remembered her?
    “Yes …”
    “If you’d like to come in, Mrs. Pitt, I shall see if Lady Augusta or General Balantyne is at home.” He stepped back to allow her to accept.
    She had no choice.
    “Thank you.” She found she was shaking. If Lady Augusta was in, what could Charlotte possibly say to her? They had disliked each other before Christina. Now it would be even worse. What on earth could she say? What excuse was there for her presence?
    She was shown into the morning room and recognized the model of the brass gun carriage from Waterloo on the table. It was as if the years had telescoped into each