Free Love Is My Reason by Mary Burchell Page A

have some reason to be, ” replied David dryly.
    “ Yes, yes, I daresay. ” Lady Ranmere was not herself an emotional type. “ But it ’ s never wise to make decisions when one is deeply disturbed.
    David said nothing, but he looked dissatisfied.
    “ In any case, ” his aunt went on, “ that girl is in no state to be questioned this evening. Still less is she in a state to cope with a family scene. Let us have a quiet dinner, and consider tomorrow, or perhaps even later, how we should present this discovery to Teresa. And Celia, ” she added pensively.
    “ Perhaps you ’ re right. ” The mention of Celia suddenly damped his ardour for immediate explanations. Besides, there was a good deal of sound common sense in what his aunt had said. And, after a few more words, he arranged to meet Lady Ranmere and Anya downstairs in half an hour ’ s time, and went off to his own room to change.
    David was hardly aware himself how anxious he was that Anya should make a good impression on the members of his party. He felt oddly jealous on her behalf—eager that her elusive loveliness should be appreciated. Not because there would otherwise be some implied reflection on his own taste and actions, but simply because he wanted others to share the curious fascination she exercised upon him.
    Consequently he was almost elated to see how lovely she looked as she came down the stairs with his aunt some time later. She was still wearing the indeterminate cotton dress which was the only thing he had ever seen her in. But round her shoulders she wore the beautiful silk stole, and this gave a certain charm, even elegance, to her appearance.
    She was pale, but her bright hair was smoothly brushed back from her wide forehead, and her soft attractive mouth looked so red against the clear pallor of her skin that David thought Lady Ranmere must have found her a lipstick from somewhere.
    She smiled when she saw David waiting in the hall below, and the smile lit up her eyes and gave a sort of inner radiance to her grave young face.
    “ Well, here we are .” David ’ s aunt was not given to self-evident statements, and he guessed that she felt rather less at ease than she looked. “ Where are the others? ”
    “ I think they have already gone into the dining-room. Shall we join them? ” David smiled reassuringly at Anya, who looked if anything, rather more composed in a gentle way than his aunt did.
    When they entered the dining-room the others were already at their usual corner table, but all three stood up as Lady Ranmere made the introductions, which gave a more formal quality to the scene than David would have chosen.
    It was Mrs. Preston who seemed best able to handle the situation and, for once, her manner had more decision than that of her daughter.
    “ Come and sit down, dear, ” she said kindly to Anya. “ We are all very happy to have you here. ”
    And, as the thought came to David that perhaps it was her own grandchild whom Teresa Preston was addressing thus, he found the moment curiously moving.
    Celia was courteous but no more, and she looked at Anya with something like faint surprise. It irritated David to know that she was probably wondering what anyone saw in the child.
    Bertram too gave the newcomer a curious glance. But he at least did not find Anya unimpressive. He even managed to murmur to his cousin,
    “ What a stage face! Almost perfect bone structure and a genuine quality of repose. I wonder — ”
    He broke off there, however, and there was no opportunity to press the line of Bertram ’ s wondering, for everyone was anxious to keep a flow of conversation going, so that their tragic visitor should not feel isolated or thrust back upon her own unwelcome recollections.
    Presumably it was the first time she had ever dined in an hotel—even a provincial hotel—and much of the situation must have been frighteningly strange to her . But she showed no sign of finding it so. She answered gently when spoken to and