Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [77]
Odelia smiled a trifle fixedly, and formal introductions were made. Carswell had missed his opportunity to leave without making his departure abrupt to the point of discourtesy. He mumbled something polite, and conversation about the evening was resumed.
He thought a second chance had offered itself when they became aware yet again that they were occupying all the space between the tables and others wished to pass. But when he turned to apologize and offer to leave, his whole body stiffened and the blood rose in a pink tide up his face, then fled, leaving him ashen. Beside him stood young Theophania Hilliard and her brother. Her eager face also looked pale, but it might have been tiredness. It was, after all, well past two in the morning.
“I—er—” Carswell stammered. He seemed to shrink within himself. “I—I’m so sorry, Miss—er—”
“Not at all,” Fanny said huskily. “We have no wish to intrude.” She swallowed hard. “It was uncivil of us. We shall leave by another route—please—”
“I—er—most—” Carswell breathed deeply.
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Fitz said cheerfully. “Miss Fanny Hilliard, are you acquainted with Mr. Addison Carswell, and Mrs. Carswell? And the Misses Carswell?” And completely unaware of any discomfort, Fitz proceeded to introduce them all. Carswell cast one look at Pitt for only the smallest part of a second, then away again. Had Charlotte not been watching him she would have missed the anguish and the mute appeal, so instantly did it vanish again.
Pitt looked at him blankly, and silently. Whatever he felt, he gave no sign.
Gradually Carswell regained some control of himself. The color came back faintly to his cheeks.
“I am delighted to meet you, Miss—er, Hilliard,” he said hoarsely. “Forgive me for leaving so hastily, but we were about to depart, and it is very late. Good night to you.”
“Good night, sir,” Fanny said with downcast eyes. “Good night, Mrs. Carswell.” Her eyes flicked up and she looked at Regina with interest.
Regina was too tired to notice.
“Good night, Miss Hilliard. Come Mabel.” She raised her voice fractionally to her daughter, who was falling into conversation with Odelia. “Come, my dear. It is past time we were at home.”
“Yes Mama,” Mabel said obediently, and with a little shrug of her shoulders, excused herself and trooped off behind her sisters.
“It is certainly time we too were leaving,” Charlotte said quickly, looking at Emily. “Perhaps we might find a hansom, since it would be foolish to take you so far out of your way when we are going to Bloomsbury and you to Mayfair. I am sure it is time you were in bed.”
Indeed Emily had begun to flag a little, and Jack was concerned for her, by the look upon his face, and his arm around her shoulder.
“I shall take you home in my carriage,” Vespasia announced, rising to her feet. “It is not so very far, and I sleep longer than I need to anyway.”
“I would not hear of it,” Pitt said firmly. “It has been a marvelous night, and I will not spoil my enjoyment of it by taking you out of your way and keeping you up an extra half hour at the very least. We shall find a hansom.”
Vespasia drew herself up with great dignity and stared at Pitt with a mixture of affection and outrage.
“I am not some little old lady whom you need to assist across the street, Thomas! I am perfectly capable of organizing my carriage to do as I please.” There was a tiny smile at the corner of his lips and both Charlotte and Pitt knew precisely why she was taking them home. “And I may lie in bed in the morning for as long as I desire—until luncheon, if it takes my fancy—which is a deal more than you may say. I shall take you home to Bloomsbury, and then go to my own house thereafter.” She fixed Charlotte with a fine, silvery-gray eye, and with a small smile Pitt did as he was told.
They bade good-night to Emily and Jack, thanking them yet again for their generosity, and had the doorman call Vespasia’s carriage. When they were inside, the doors closed, and had begun the journey, Vespasia looked