Love Is My Reason (8 page)

CHAPTER
FOUR

“
Who are these
two young men?
”
David asked hoarsely as he held out the photograph to her.

Anya glanced at it and smiled slightly.

“
Friends of my mother a very long time ago. Even before she knew my father, I think.
”
She took the photograph in her hand and looked at it reminiscently.
“
She told me once that she was very fond of one of them,
”
she added slowly.

“
Which one?
”
David tried hard to make that sound casual, but he was aware that his tone sharpened.

Anya shook her head and her smile deepened.

“
She wouldn
’
t tell me. When I asked her, she laughed and said it was better for me not to know—that one should never define one
’
s early loves too clearly.
”

David bit his lip. But he had to try again.

“
Did you ever meet either of them—when you were a child, for instance?
”

“
Oh, no
.
”
She shook her head again.
“
When I asked my mother to tell me more about the one she was fond of, she looked sad and said he had died many years ago. Before I was born.
”

“
And yet she kept the photograph, when so much else had to be left behind.
”

“
Perhaps—
”
Anya smiled in that enigmatic way—
“
it represented her youth and the days when she was happy.
”

“
Did your father ever comment on it?
”

“
I don
’
t think he ever saw it. But not long before my mother died, she gave it to me and told me to keep it always.
”

“
Wasn
’
t that a—a rather odd request, considering that they were both strangers to you?
”

“
I don
’
t know.
”
She smiled again at David, gently, as though he were a child who needed to have a great deal explained to him.
“
When one has very little, one cannot bear to destroy the few things one has loved. She knew I would keep it safe because she had treasured it. Why should she hurt herself by destroying it?
”

And, turning back to the case, Anya put away the photograph among her other things.

David rose slowly to his feet. The tremendous discovery loomed between them, dwarfing everything else, it seemed to him. And yet he could not, for the life of him, think of anything further to ask her.

He murmured something about her joining his aunt when she was ready, and went out into the sitting-room again, closing the door of Anya
’
s room behind
him
.

“
Aunt Mary
—
”

“
Why, David, what is it?
”
Startled by his voice and manner, Lady Ranmere looked up.

“
It
’
s the most incredible thing—
”
he came across to her and dropped his voice, so that no possible echo of it could reach the girl in the other room—
“
she
’
s got a photograph among her things in there. It
’
s of two young men, and one of them is Teresa Preston
’
s son.
”

“
Teresa Preston
’
s—you mean
Martin
?
”
Lady Ranmere sat down on the sofa and stared at her nephew.
“
It
’
s not possible! How can you be sure?
”

“
I can
’
t be otherwise. Less than an hour ago I was looking with particular attention at that photograph Mrs. Preston wears. It could have been cut from another copy of the one Anya has in there. The face is identical.
”

“
But did you ask the girl anything about it?
”

“
Of course. I asked, as casually as I could, who the two men were. She said they were friends of her mother years ago, and that she had owned to being very fond of one of them. She wouldn
’
t say which one.
”

“
Why not?
”
Lady Ranmere looked exasperated.

“
She put Anya off with some laughing generality about not owning to one
’
s early loves. But I suppose the truth was that she didn
’
t want to say too much. If one of them
were Anya
’
s father
—
”

“
Is that what you really think?
”

“
At least it is very probable, isn
’
t it? in view of what Ber
tram
told me.
”

Lady Ranmere was silent for a moment. Then she said slowly,
“
She might be no connection at all. On the other hand—she could be Teresa Preston
’
s grandchild.
”

“
Exactly. The point is, what are we going to do about it?
”

Again Lady Ranmere
hesitated
. Then she said, with some firmness,
“
Nothing for the moment.
”

“
Nothing? But you can
’
t just ignore a discovery of this sort!
”

“
No. But you can postpone action until you find the right moment,
”
retorted his aunt.
“
Teresa is going to be fearfully emotional about this, you know.
”

“
She will 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 she smiled
w
hen Mrs. Preston—it was usually Mrs. Preston—addressed some special kind remark to her.

From time to time her glance sought David, as though he represented some form of security. But there was nothing gauche or awkward about the way she conducted herself in what would have been, for most people, trying circumstances.

When Mrs. Preston admired her stole and said how pretty she looked in it, she said shyly,

“
David gave it to me. He found it was my birthday today.
”

If it was a slight shock to some of them to hear her refer thus intimately to David, all of them except Celia concealed the fact. And she only slightly raised her admirably marked eyebrows.

“
And may we ask how old you are today? Bertram enquired.
“
Or are you already too much of a young lady to be asked such a question?
”

“
I
’
m not a young lady at all.
”
Anya shook her head gravely.
“
And I am eighteen.
”

Perhaps it struck all of them that few people could have celebrated their eighteenth birthday in more melancholy circumstances. At any rate, there were sympathetic glances for her and, leaning forward, Mrs. Preston patted her hand and said,

“
We shall have to celebrate properly another time. It would be a shame for you to have to remember your birthday only for sad things.
”

Anya said,
“
Thank you,
”
and looked back at Mrs. Preston with a faint smile. And then, as she did so, something happened which neither David nor his aunt had foreseen. Her glance shifted from Mrs. Preston
’
s face to the fob brooch which swung forward as its wearer leaned towards the girl.

“
Who—
”
Anya leaned forward in her turn, and her politeness gave way before a strange, incredulous urgency
—“
who is that?
”

Mrs. Preston glanced down at the photograph and smiled with sad pride.

“
That is my son.
”