Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [79]
Charlotte wrestled with temptation for a moment or two, then with additional encouragement from Gracie, gave in to it. She ran upstairs and changed as quickly as she could into a spotted muslin gown trimmed with green, took up the best hat she had, decorated with silk roses Emily had brought back with her from her honeymoon, and came downstairs again. She was not quite as immaculate as if dressed by a ladies’ maid, but nonetheless very handsome.
The Royal Academy exhibition was every bit as formal and hidebound as Emily had said. Elegant ladies with sweeping hats and flowered parasols moved from one painting to another, looking at them through lorgnettes, standing back and looking again and then passing their instant opinions. Gowns were gorgeous, etiquette absolutely precise and the social hierarchy unyielding.
“Oh, I don’t care for that. Much too modern. I don’t know what the world is coming to.”
“Quite vulgar, my dear. And talking of vulgarity, did you see Martha Wolcott at the theater last evening? What an extraordinary shade to wear. So unflattering!”
“Of course she’s fifty if she’s a day.”
“Really? I would have sworn she said she was thirty-nine.”
“I don’t doubt she did. She’s been saying that for as long as I’ve known her. Presumably in the beginning it was quite true, but that was a dozen years ago. Well I declare, did you ever see anything like that? Whatever do you suppose it means?”
“I’m sure I have not the faintest notion!”
Charlotte and Emily overheard many such snatches of conversations as they passed between the crowds, speaking to someone here, passing a compliment there, exchanging small politenesses, but above all being seen.
They were at least halfway around the exhibition, and they felt compelled to see all of it, when they ran into Fitz and Odelia looking charming, courteous, and most of the time interested.
Emily made a little growling noise in the back of her throat.
“There are times when I loathe that man,” she whispered, forcing a brilliant smile to her face as Odelia caught her eye. “And her,” she added, inclining her head graciously. “She is so terribly certain of everything.”
“Complacent is the word,” Charlotte elaborated, smiling and nodding also. “The way she condescended to Miss Hilliard the evening at the opera, I was longing to be thoroughly rude.”
Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “And you weren’t? My dear, I am sensible of your sisterly loyalty. I shall tell Jack; he will be overcome.”
“You will spoil it if you tell him I only overheard the conversation, so I was not in a position to say anything at all.”
“You always ruin a good story by being overheard, Charlotte. Is that Miss Hilliard over there? I was so tired by suppertime I don’t remember what she looked like.”
“Yes it is. I liked her spirit. She gave as good as she got, I thought, and she was at a definite disadvantage.”
“Good. They are about to encounter Fitz and Odelia again. This time I shall be there—and you hold your tongue.” And so saying she hastened towards Fitz and Odelia as if their simple smile of acknowledgment had been an urgent invitation.
They arrived precisely as James and Fanny Hilliard stepped back from a picture the better to consider it, and were so close Emily could very easily bump into James and apologize with devastating sweetness. A moment later they were all exchanging greetings.
“How charming you look, Miss Hilliard.” Odelia smiled. “Such a lovely hat. I meant to compliment you on it last time, and somehow it slipped my mind.”
Fanny colored faintly, quite aware that the meaning of the remark was not that it was especially handsome, but that she had worn the same hat on the previous occasion also.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “How kind of you to say so.”
“Such an attractive quality, don’t you agree?” Emily said quickly, turning to Odelia. “I admire it above all others!”
“Remembering hats?” Odelia’s eyebrows shot up incredulously. “Really, Mrs. Radley. I cannot think why?”