Callander Square - Anne Perry [72]
Christina took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
“What a revoltingly practical creature you are. I don’t believe you have an ounce of romance in your soul.”
“Perhaps not,” Emily agreed. “But do not confuse romance with love. I know how to love.” She stood up. “I fear your romance is largely an indulgence, and indulgence is selfishness and has to be paid for.”
“I do not intend to pay if I do not have to. But I shall remember what you say, whether I follow it or not. You may still attend the wedding, if you wish.”
“Thank you,” Emily said dryly. “I should be delighted.”
Emily decided that with regard to the bodies in the square, Christina was no longer of interest; for one thing, she had not the nerve, the decision, to perform such an act. Lady Augusta most certainly would have had, but then she had also, unless Emily had wildly misjudged her, enough sense never to have permitted such a thing to happen.
Therefore it was time to turn her attention to the other houses. Charlotte had told her that Euphemia Carlton was highly unlikely, although she would not say why, but apparently she had satisfied Pitt. And although Pitt was a peculiar creature, Emily had a great respect for him; purely as a policeman, of course, socially he was impossible. But if he was satisfied regarding Euphemia, then so was she.
So she must look further into the other households, as opportunity could be made. From what Charlotte had learned, Reggie Southeron seemed the most promising, but it might also prove productive to cultivate Sophie Bolsover, and to learn a little more about Helena Doran. She had gone about the time of the death of the first child, just over two years ago. It was possible there was some connection, was it not? Why had she never written? Who was the lover no one had even seen? Had he perhaps loved others also—with different results? The time that the first body had been in the ground, some six months, could it have been longer? Long enough to have been conceived before Helena and her unknown lover disappeared? Could that even be why the child had been killed—a legacy from a love affair that had ended in desertion, and hate? It was certainly a mystery very much worth the solving!
With this in mind she planned to visit Charlotte two days afterward, being obliged to attend to her household on the following morning, a small matter of servants, and be at home to callers in the afternoon. One had certain social obligations to maintain.
However, on the second morning she was free to pursue those things that were really of interest to her.
“Who on earth are you calling on at this hour?” George inquired, still sitting at a late breakfast and flicking through the society pages of the newspaper. He looked very elegant in his silk dressing coat. She thought again how fortunate she was that she had been able to marry a man who could offer her all the social and financial advantages she wished, and whom she could genuinely love. Of course he had many characteristics that, when this fascinating business in Callander Square was over, she would hope to work on. But then if there were nothing to work on, a marriage would quickly become intolerably boring; for a woman, at any rate.
“Charlotte,” she replied. “It doesn’t matter what time I call on her.”
“You’ve become uncommonly fond of Charlotte lately,” he said with a slight frown. “What are you doing, Emily?”
“Doing?” she opened her eyes wide.
“Yes, ‘doing,’ my dear. You are far too pleased with yourself not to be doing something. I want to know what it is.”
She had already foreseen this occasion and had her answer prepared.
“I am introducing Charlotte to a few of my acquaintances, in a range of society that she may enjoy,” she said easily; which was true enough, although not for the