Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [137]
Since the Carswells were the only ones present who in Charlotte’s mind could possibly be considered suspects, she determined to engage at least one of them in conversation, as the only way in which she might learn something more than sheer observation would teach, which seemed to be precious little. Accordingly she rose to her feet and made her way between the small groups of people exchanging polite enthusiasm for the pianist, until she reached Regina Carswell.
“Good evening, Mrs. Carswell,” she said with a smile. “How pleasant to see you again. I hope you are well?”
“Quite well, thank you,” Regina replied courteously. “And you, Mrs. Pitt?”
“Oh in the best health, thank you. Isn’t it a lovely summer? I cannot recall the weather being quite so agreeable for a long time. But I daresay it is, and the winter simply makes one forget.”
“Indeed,” Regina agreed. She was about to continue with some pleasant triviality when a rather large lady with diamonds strung across an ample bosom engineered her way past them, lifting her skirts slightly to avoid crushing either her own gown or Regina’s. She gave Regina a strange smile, forcedly bright and rather fixed, then turned away quickly and grasped the arm of the woman next to her.
“Poor soul,” she murmured in a stage whisper perfectly audible to at least the half dozen people closest to her.
“Poor soul?” her companion said curiously. “Why? Is she not in good health? I hear she has three daughters, but I know she is doing quite well with them.”
“Oh I know that,” the large lady said, dismissing the subject. “Poor creature,” she added in a hiss. “So difficult. Especially when everyone knows.”
“Knows what?” Her companion, dressed in a fashionable but particularly repulsive shade of green, was getting irritated by the suspense. “I’ve heard nothing.”
“Oh you will do,” the large lady assured her. “No doubt you will do. Far be it from me—of course—”
Regina looked puzzled and embarrassed, a slight tinge of pink in her cheeks.
Charlotte did not know whether to pretend she had not heard the exchange, although it was quite obvious they both had, or to acknowledge it candidly and say something dismissive. She looked at Regina’s face to try to judge which would be the kindest. She saw only confusion. Perhaps it had to do with the ridiculous Osmar case. Charlotte chose to assume it did.
“It seems Mr. Horatio Osmar is bent on causing trouble everywhere,” she said with an attempt at cheerfulness. “I should put it from your mind, if I were you. A lot of people with little knowledge and even less judgment tend to pass comment. It will all die away as soon as some fresh scandal breaks.”
Regina still looked puzzled.
“I fail to see why they should pity me for the matter,” she said, opening her eyes wide and smiling rather tentatively. “I am sure my husband behaved with judicial correctness. The police must have failed to produce a proper case against him, or he would not have dismissed it from court. And it has little reflection on me.”
“They must be very hard put for scandal to gossip over,” Charlotte agreed. “Silly creatures. Don’t you find that an astoundingly unbecoming shade of green? I cannot recall when I have seen anything quite so displeasing!”
Regina relaxed into a smile at Charlotte’s determination to dismiss the whole episode as meaningless and of no importance whatever.
“Quite horrible,” she agreed warmly. “Were her maid of any use at all she would have advised her not to wear it.”
“These yellow-greens are most trying, especially to a sallow complexion,” Charlotte went on. “I cannot imagine who makes such a gown in the first place. I would have suggested a soft blue, I think. She is something of a plain woman to begin with.”
Regina touched her arm gently with her hand. “My dear Mrs. Pitt, it was the large lady who was the real offender. I think it is she we should be picking apart!”
“You are right,” Charlotte agreed with enthusiasm. “Where shall we begin? She should