Death in the Devil's Acre - Anne Perry [50]
“Are you acquainted with Lavinia Hawkesley?” she inquired.
Lady Ashworth’s eyes widened. There was no need for indelicate explanations. May blandly mentioned a few other names, and then they discussed fashion and current romances for a pleasant half hour, all undershot with a frisson of scandal. Mrs. Woolmer tried to guide the conversation toward the Ashworths’ acquaintance with eligible young men, and met with no success whatsoever.
At four o’clock, the parlormaid opened the door and asked if the ladies would receive Mr. Alan Ross, who had called to offer his family’s sympathies.
Lady Ashworth jumped to her feet, seizing Mrs. Pitt by the hand. “Come, Charlotte, we really must not monopolize the whole afternoon.” She turned to May. “I fear we have enjoyed your company so much we have forgotten our manners. If you will permit us to take our leave before Mr. Ross arrives, we will not make him feel uncomfortable by appearing to avoid him.”
Mrs. Woolmer was startled. “Of course, if—if that is what you wish. Marigold, have Mr. Ross wait in the morning room for a moment, if you please.”
Marigold closed the door behind her.
Lady Ashworth bent to May with a confidential whisper. “My sister and I were once acquainted with Mr. Ross’s family during a period of tragedy which must be most distressing to him. I think it would be a kindness, my dear, if you were not to mention our names to him. I’m sure you understand?”
May did not understand at all, but she was perfectly capable of taking a hint. “Of course. You will merely be two ladies who have called by in friendship. I appreciate your sensitivity, and I hope I shall have the good fortune to meet you again in more fortunate circumstances.”
“I am sure of it,” Lady Ashworth said confidently, with the slightest of nods.
May understood; it was all she wished.
Outside in the street, Charlotte turned on Emily. “What are you thinking of? Surely it would have been to our advantage to meet with Alan Ross again? Max may have used his old connections to find these women!”
“I know that!” Emily exclaimed. “But not in there. He won’t be long—we can wait out here for him.”
“It’s freezing! Why on earth should we stand around here? He’ll know we are forcing an acquaintance if—”
“Oh, don’t be so silly. William!” She waved her hand at the coachman. “Find something wrong with one of the horses—keep yourself occupied until Mr. Ross comes out of the house.”
“Yes, m’lady.” William obediently bent and ran his hand down the near horse’s leg, and began to examine it.
Charlotte shivered as the wind cut through her coat. “Why on earth couldn’t we simply have stayed in there and met him?” she demanded, glaring at Emily.
“I always thought General Balantyne was very fond of you.” Emily appeared to ignore the remark.
Charlotte had liked to think so, too. The memory brought a pleasant glow, a tinge of excitement. She did not argue.
“Christina moves in just the right circle to know the sort of women who might be used by Max,” Emily continued. “She could be of great assistance.”
“Christina Ross wouldn’t assist us across the street if we were blind!” Charlotte remembered Callander Square vividly. “The most likely assistance she could give me would be into the nearest ditch!”
“Which is why we must pursue the general instead,” Emily said impatiently. “If you conduct yourself properly, he will help you to anything you like! Now be quiet. Mr. Ross is coming out. I knew he wouldn’t be long.”
As Alan Ross approached, Emily smiled dazzlingly at him.
He smiled back and raised his hat a little uncertainly. Then his eyes moved to Charlotte and his face eased in recognition.
“Miss Ellison? How charming to see you again. I hope you are well. Do you have trouble with your carriage? May I take you somewhere?”
“Thank you, I am sure it is nothing serious,” Charlotte answered quickly. “Do you recall Mr. Ross, Emily? My sister, Lady Ashworth—” She wanted to tell him delicately that she was Mrs. Pitt. During the Callander Square murders, she had found a position in the