Free The Devil at Archangel by Sara Craven Page B

Determinedly, she took
    herself in hand. It washer turn to be admiring. Mrs Brandon's
    needlework was exquisite.
    'Thank you.' The older woman's smile was tinged with melancholy. 'I
    have much to be thankful for. At least my hands still work for me as
    they always did.'

    Christina bent her head sympathetically. It must be agonising, she
    thought, for such a proud, independent woman to find herself the
    victim of a crippling disease like arthritis. She found herself
    wondering at the same time why Mrs Brandon did not travel to
    America or Europe and take advantage of the latest treatments.
    Mrs Brandon folded her work and placed it on the table.
    'You may pour some sherry,' she directed, nodding towards the
    decanter. Christina complied, although dry sherry was not a particular
    favourite of hers. However, she had to acknowledge that some form
    of stimulant would be welcome.
    Mrs Brandon accepted the glass from her and held it up. ' Votre sante,'
    she said kindly. 'Tell me, Christina, what are your impressions of
    Archangel? Do you think you will be happy to settle here?'
    Christina did not know how to reply and took refuge in a barely
    audible murmur which appeared to satisfy her employer.
    'I realise it is early days yet for you to decide such a thing, but at the
    same time I want you to know that you may consider this as your
    home for as long as you wish, ma chere.''
    'You're very kind, madame .' Christina sipped at the pale liquid in her.
    glass, feeling rather taken aback. 'I—I promise IH do my best
    to—carry out your requirements.' If and when I know what they are,
    she added silently. Now seemed as good a time as any to introduce
    the subject. 'Perhaps you'd like to tell me when you wish me to start
    my duties and precisely what they will be.'
    Mrs Brandon waved a hand on which a huge diamond glittered like
    living ice.

    'There is plenty of time for that. For the momenVrest and enjoy
    yourself. You have, I believe, already met my grandson?'
    It seemed a totally casual question, but Christina" found herself
    tensing. She set the glass down carefully on the table. Had someone
    seen and reported that lighthearted farewell pantomime of a kiss in
    the hall? She knew that she was blushing faintly and kicked herself
    mentally for her lack of poise.
    'Yes,' she made herself say neutrally. 'He—he came in while I was
    having tea.'
    'So he told me,' Mrs Brandon remarked. 'You seem to have made a
    lasting impression on him, mon enfant.'
    Christina looked up startled. 'I would hardly say that, madame,' she
    returned carefully. 'Perhaps boys of his age are particularly
    impressionable.'
    'Of his age?' There was a distract and disconcerting lessening of Mrs
    Brandon's benign air. 'He is only a few months younger than yourself.
    In fact, in appearance— with your hair on your shoulders like
    that—you seem the . younger of the two.'
    'Yes.' Christina knew she had to tread carefully. 'But they do
    say—don't they?—that girls mature much earlier than boys of a
    similar age.'
    'Maybe.' Mrs Brandon's tone was short. 'I have not been acquainted
    with many young girls, so I am unable to give an opinion. Do you find
    Theo—young for his age?'
    'Oh, no,' Christina hastened to assure her. 'He seemed quite
    sophisticated—a man of the world.'

    'Hm.' Mrs Brandon appeared mollified, she saw with relief. 'It is true
    he has lacked for young company in the past. I am relying on you, my
    dear, to rectify that to some extent. You will be ideal companions for
    one another.'
    Christina swallowed. 'But I thought I was to be your companion,
    madame,' she said at last, aware of how feeble the protest must sound.
    'Do not take me quite so literally, mon enfant.' Madamegave a slight
    frown. 'I am not suggesting that you are to work for Theo. I am
    merely telling you—if you need such assurance—that you are free to
    accept any invitations from him that he may see fit to make.'
    Christina was blushing again, more hody this time. 'Thank