Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [76]
Before Charlotte could think of a reply, which would certainly have been an agreement, they were approached by a considerable group of people who were also wending their way towards the door. Charlotte recognized the man immediately, although it was a moment before she could recall his name. Then it came to her just as the group was passing the next table. It was Addison Carswell, whom she had met at Emily’s ball, and with him were his wife, the woman she had admired for her good sense, and the three fair unmarried daughters, all dressed in shades from pink through to the richest burgundy. They reminded Charlotte of a drift of magnificent hollyhocks in bloom all toning with one another. They were a striking sight, more effective together than any one of them would have been alone. Charlotte respected Mrs. Carswell’s strategy.
Carswell glanced sideways at their table, as one does when not occupied in speaking. His eyes passed over Jack and Emily with a cursory smile and nod, and acknowledged Vespasia, without knowing who she was, simply that her bearing commanded it. Then his eye fell on Pitt and a tightness came over his features, a stiffness to his body so that quite suddenly his clothes looked uncomfortable and he seemed far more tired than he had the moment before, as if all the evening’s events had caught up with him and exhausted him in that instant. The recognition was quite plain, but he made not the slightest movement to speak or acknowledge Pitt.
Charlotte realized with a shiver of amazement that whatever the circumstances in which he knew Pitt, it must be professional, and that he was distressed by it. And also, from the fact he gave no overt sign now, that his wife was unaware of it.
However Regina Carswell had recognized Charlotte and out of good manners she stopped to speak.
“Good evening, Mrs. Pitt, how very pleasant to see you again. I hope you are well?”
“Very well, thank you, Mrs. Carswell,” Charlotte replied. “How kind of you to stop.” She turned to Vespasia. “Aunt Vespasia, may I present Mrs. Addison Carswell? I am not sure if you are already acquainted.” And she introduced them all around the circle, introducing Pitt to Mr. Carswell. They spoke to each other stiffly and without a flicker of anything to signify they had ever met before.
The group was still exchanging stilted pleasantries, words fumbling on their tongues, minds too tired to think easily of the necessary trivialities to cover the discomfort underneath, when they were made aware by the arrival of Herbert Fitzherbert with Odelia on his arm that they were blocking the aisle. She looked perfectly composed again, her face glowing with a calm radiance, every hair in place in spite of the lateness of the hour.
“I’m so sorry!” Carswell collected himself and grasped the opportunity to escape. “We are in your way, sir,” he said with alacrity. “I do apologize. If you will excuse us?” He bowed perfunctorily to Vespasia, and made as if to leave.
“Not at all,” Fitzherbert said quickly, oblivious of the panic in Carswell’s face. “My dear sir, we have no desire to spoil your party. It would be unforgivable.” He smiled devastatingly at Vespasia, then glanced at Jack and Emily. “Good to see you, Radley, Mrs. Radley. What a splendid evening, is it not? Ah, Mrs. Pitt. You look extremely well, if I am not impertinent to say so.” He knew perfectly well he was not.
Charlotte would like to have rebuffed him, or at least taken some of the satisfaction from his face, but his charm was so spontaneous she did not know how without being churlish, which would entirely defeat her purpose. And perhaps she was being unfair to Jack. He was perfectly capable of measuring up to Herbert Fitzherbert. And if he were not, perhaps he should not win the selection anyway.
“Thank you,” she said with a sweet smile. “I have enjoyed myself so much it would be hard