Cardington Crescent - Anne Perry [56]
Charlotte opened her mouth to say that she was no more confused than anyone else would be, but he hurried on, drowning her protest.
“You must excuse Lady Cumming-Gould her eccentricities. She was a great beauty once, you know, and so she was allowed to get away with being outrageous, and I’m afraid she has never grown beyond it. Indeed, I think with age she has become more so—I know my dear mother finds her quite trying at times.” He rubbed his hands and smiled experimentally, searching Charlotte’s face to see how she responded to this information. “But we must all exercise forbearance!” he went on quickly, sensing disapproval. “That is part of being a family—so important! Cornerstone of the country. Loyalty, continuity, one generation to the next—that’s what civilization is all about. Marks us from the savages, eh?”
Charlotte opened her mouth to argue that in her opinion savages had an excellent dynastic sense, and were intensely conservative, which was precisely why they remained savages instead of inventing and exploring things new. But again Eustace carried on regardless before she could begin.
“And of course from your point of view poor Sybilla must seem most cruel and ill-behaved, because you will naturally take Emily’s part. But you know there was far more to it than that. Oh dear, yes. I am afraid it was George who pursued, you know—quite definitely George. And dear Sybilla is so used to admiration she failed to discourage him appropriately. It was ill-judged of her, of course. I feel obliged to tell her so, directly. And George should have been far more discreet—”
“He shouldn’t have done it at all!” Charlotte interrupted hotly.
“Ah, my dear!” Eustace’s face was lit with a smile of patience and condescension. He wagged his head a little. “Let us not be unrealistic. One expects girls of Tassie’s age to have romantic illusions, and heaven forfend I should wound her susceptibilities at so tender a stage in her life, when she is just on the brink of betrothal. But a married woman of Emily’s years must come to terms with the nature of men. A truly feminine woman has forgiveness in her nature for our foibles and weaknesses, as indeed we men have for the frailties of women.” He smiled at her, and for a moment his hand hovered warmly over hers and she was intensely aware of him.
Charlotte was furious. There was something about him that brought back in a rush every patronizing word she had ever heard. She ached to wipe the complacence off his moon face.
“You mean that if Emily had lain with Mr. Radley, for example, George would have forgiven her?” she asked sarcastically, pulling her hand away.
She had succeeded. Eustace was genuinely shocked. She had preempted a subject he would not have put words to himself. The blood drained from his skin, then rushed back in a tide of color. “Really!” he spluttered. “I appreciate that you have had a grave shock, and perhaps you are afraid for Emily, understandably. But my dear Mrs. Pitt, there is no call for vulgarity! I shall do you the favor of putting from my mind that I ever heard you so forget yourself as to make such a vile suggestion. We shall agree never to refer to it again. You strike at the very root of all that is fine and decent in life. If women were to behave in that way, why, good God!—a man wouldn’t know if his son were his own! The home would be desecrated, the very fabric of Society would fall apart. The idea does not bear thinking of!”
Charlotte found herself blushing, although as much from anger as embarrassment. Perhaps she was being ridiculous, and the movement of his hand really had been no more than sympathy.
“I did not suggest it, Mr. March!” she protested, raising her chin and staring at him. “I merely meant that perhaps Emily expected as high a standard from George as she was prepared to adhere to herself.”
“I see you are very inexperienced, Mrs. Pitt, and somewhat romantic.” Eustace shook his head knowingly, but his expression eased out into a smile again. “Women are quite different from men, my dear, quite different!