A Christmas Hope by Anne Perry Page A

“Except perhaps he is a tad unwise in the company he keeps. But it might be prudent to delay the announcement until there is more of a resolution to the death of that unfortunate young woman. I … I appreciate that it would be loyal to express your confidence in him, publicly, but perhaps be certain beforehand that that iswhat Alphonsine herself wishes. I may be speaking quite out of turn.” She felt the hot color burn up her face. It was more than out of turn; it was meddlesome and possibly quite unjust. But Mr. Davidson’s information was too serious to ignore, for Alphonsine’s sake, quite apart from the need to know the truth about Winnie Briggs’s death.
    Oona was regarding her intently. “Are you carefully avoiding saying that you think there is something in Ernest Halversgate’s behavior that we would find more than youthful indiscretion? Please be honest. Alphonsine is not my daughter, but I love her as dearly as if she were.” She took a deep breath. “Ernest is not my choice, he is her father’s, made with every consideration for her happiness. Ernest has an excellent reputation, both for sobriety and for wisdom, and the considerable ability to handle money well. Alphonsine will have a very large inheritance, eventually. She is an only child, and my husband loves her deeply.”
    “I can understand that it is a fundamental consideration that she marry a man who is both honest and prudent,” Claudine agreed. The fact that Wallace Burroughs was both these things loomed in her mind.
    “I hear no enthusiasm in your voice,” Oona said unhappily.“Alphonsine is being very … awkward about it herself. I had attributed it to the fact that Ernest is—to put it frankly—dull. When we are young we look for romance, excitement, even a little danger. Only when we have tasted those qualities and find they leave a bitter taste, do we see the beauty of reliability, and of kindness, if you like.”
    Claudine closed her eyes for a moment, swallowing hard, then opened them again. “The voice of wisdom,” she said in little more than a whisper. “But I notice you make kindness important. Real kindness has its roots in strength, don’t you think? Without it, and courage, when would his apparent kindness become merely good intentions, which at the slightest chill can wither into nothing?”
    Oona blinked several times, her face bleak with anxiety.
    “I have the strongest feeling that you are trying to warn me against something, but I cannot see what. I know already that Alphonsine does not love Ernest, and I am not at all sure whether he loves her or not. But at twenty who knows the difference between love and infatuation? I have been infatuated a few times, haven’t you?”
    “Yes,” Claudine agreed ruefully. The memory brought sudden pain, not of grief but of embarrassment.
    Oona was smiling. “I see your choices were no wiser than mine. My parents decided my first marriage, and I know they meant well. He was much older than I, and he died quite early, leaving me free to choose my own second marriage. I am fortunate enough to be very happy in that. Enough that I will not impose my advice over his when it comes to a husband for his daughter, even if I might find poor Ernest both pompous and with little passion or humor.” She gave a slight shrug. “But then, I liked Mr. Tregarron, so what does that say for my judgment?”
    “I liked him, too,” Claudine admitted. “But I would not let my daughter marry him, had I a daughter.”
    “Would you let her marry Ernest Halversgate? And please, do answer that honestly, or not at all.”
    “Not until the death of Winnie Briggs has been resolved more fully,” Claudine said gravely.
    “I see.” Oona nodded. “Yes, I think I do see. Perhaps Alphonsine’s reluctance to obey her father’s wish in the matter should be considered more seriously. She loves him very much and would not be awkward just on a whim. I think I shall try to persuade him that after