Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [161]
She had been quite shameless in asking Emily for the means to pay both for the hansom ride there and back, and for luncheon at a public restaurant should Carswell accept, and not offer to pay for them both. She had also written to Emily and had Gracie post the letter on the previous evening. She had been unequivocal.
Dear Emily,
I am sure you are quite as desirous as I am that all should work out as well as possible between Fitz and Fanny Hilliard, albeit our interests are not precisely the same, but perhaps close—I do care very much that Jack should be selected for Parliament, and I am sure he will succeed when he is there. However you know as well as I that in the process poor Fanny seems to have suffered greatly. She is innocent of the charge, for which you will have to accept my word—one day I may be able to tell you the truth, which is quite remarkable. In the meantime I am going to do what I can to set matters right—for which I shall need a small sum, sufficient to take a hansom cab into the city, and back again, and treat a certain gentleman to luncheon, in an effort to get him to assist by making the truth known—to Fitz at least, if no one else.
I trust totally that you will help, therefore I shall take the money from my housekeeping, and rely on you to replace it.
Your loving sister, Charlotte
She sat in the hansom with every confidence that at least the mechanics of her plan would work. What was far more in the balance was whether she would find the words to persuade Addison Carswell to jeopardize everything he possessed in order to help Fanny, especially when there was no certainty that it was what Fanny herself wished.
In fact, as she jolted along, Charlotte began to have doubts that what she was doing was wise. She could not foresee the outcome, but she was perfectly sure Fanny loved Fitz and desired that he should know the truth about her and Carswell, and that Fanny herself would not tell him.
She reached the courthouse long before she was ready, and was obliged to alight, pay the cabby and either stand on the pavement and cause people to wonder and perhaps be accosted by peddlers, newsboys shouting the scandal of the latest case, or beggars in need of assistance she could not afford to give, or else to go straight in.
She wrapped her coat a little tighter around her, not because it was cold, but instinctively in a kind of protection, as though she was chilled and vulnerable, and ascended the steps.
Inside the courthouse was busy and impersonal. There were many nervous women clutching coats and shawls around themselves, pale faced, watching every passerby, hesitant to speak and yet seemingly wishing to. Shabby men waited, hands in pockets, eyes furtive. Bailiffs and clerks hurried past carrying piles of papers, gowns flying, wigs making them look either important or slightly ridiculous, depending on one’s own purpose and fears.
Charlotte spoke to one who was going a little less swiftly.
“Excuse me, sir—”
He swung to a stop, turning on his heel and staring at her with brisk arrogance.
“Yes ma’am?” He wore wire-rimmed pince-nez and blinked at her through them.
“I have a letter to deliver urgently to Mr. Addison Carswell.” She stated her business without preamble. “To whom may I give it to make certain it reaches him before luncheon?”
“He is in court, ma’am!”
“I assumed that, or I would have attempted to give it to him myself.” She held his eyes without flickering and he seemed somewhat taken aback. It was not what he expected from young women, or indeed any women at all.
“It is important,” she said firmly.
“Is it personal, ma’am?” He was still dubious.
“It is personal to Mr. Carswell,” she replied with a very slight edge to her voice, hoping it would put him off asking anything further about it. “Not to me.”
“Indeed. Then I will take it for you.” He held out his hand.
“Before luncheon,” she repeated, passing it to him.
“Certainly,” he agreed, taking it and putting