Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [30]
Charlotte looked at Eleanor and saw in her face humor, exasperation and a relish in the wide eccentricities of people. No words whatever were necessary, or would have been appropriate.
With a smile Charlotte excused herself and went to ascertain that the guests were still enjoying themselves and that the band was still more or less in tune, the refreshments had not yet run out, and no scandal was brewing amid the flowers or in the shaded corners where young couples were sitting in the long pauses between dances.
It was half an hour later and nearly one o’clock when she came across Herbert Fitzherbert and his fiancée, Odelia Morden, in one of those softly lit spaces provided for just such a purpose. Odelia was sitting in a corner chair half shaded by a huge potted palm, its exotic leaves throwing a dark pattern over her creamy shoulders and the pale billows of her gown, satin glimmering as if moonlit, petticoats like foam around her. It crossed Charlotte’s mind to wonder if she had arranged herself so artistically on purpose, or by happy chance. Perhaps it was one of the arts the duchess had referred to.
There was a look of immeasurable satisfaction on Odelia’s face as she regarded Fitzherbert sitting forward on a stool a yard away from her feet, his elbows on his knees and his attention upon her. Possibly he was the more graceful of the two of them, because his pose was effortless.
Charlotte hesitated before intruding, they were so obviously absorbed in each other, but she had to remind herself of her duty to Emily. In the distance she could hear the band begin the Highland Schottishe. She wished she were free to dance, and someone would ask her, but the role she had been invited here to play was quite different.
“Good evening, Miss Morden,” she said cheerfully. “I am so pleased you were able to come. I have been looking forward to meeting you. Mr. Fitzherbert.”
Fitzherbert rose immediately and bowed, and as a younger, unmarried woman Odelia rose also, but far more slowly, and her smile was polite but cool. If Fitz had not recalled that Charlotte was Jack Radley’s sister-in-law, Odelia certainly had, and she was ambitious.
“Good evening, Mrs. Pitt. It was most kind of Mrs. Radley to invite us. It is a charming event, and I hope we shall meet at many more, most particularly if poor Mrs. Radley’s health does not improve. She has my deepest sympathy. It is a most unfortunate time to be unwell.”
It was a series of remarks with many edges, and Charlotte was aware of all of them. She looked Odelia straight in the eye and joined battle.
“Of course it is,” she said with a radiant smile. “But the bounties of nature are frequently heralded by a certain discomfort, as I hope you will be blessed to discover for yourself, eventually. And perhaps it is more fortunate to be unwell now than later on when running for Parliament. Election times are so short, and one cannot so easily explain to the general public as one can to friends.” Again she smiled with absolute directness, and no candor at all. “And Emily is fortunate, she takes a confinement very well.”
“How agreeable for her,” Odelia murmured. “But the timing!”
“Mrs. Gladstone had eight children,” Charlotte said sweetly. “And cared for them all herself, refusing even to have a wet nurse. She taught them all their lessons and heard their prayers at night, and did endless charitable work as well. It does not seem to have hampered her husband from being the best prime minister this century.”
“Good gracious!” Odelia’s eyes opened wide. “Does Mrs. Radley fancy to be a prime minister’s wife?”
Charlotte ignored the sarcasm as completely as if she had failed to perceive it.
“I have not asked her, but it seems a noble ambition. Do you not?” She turned and smiled briefly and with some sympathy at Fitz. There was a spark of humor in his eyes.
“I wish to be Fitz’s wife,” Odelia