Death in the Devil's Acre - Anne Perry [56]
“I fancy the poor soul is bored to weeping,” Emily replied with a furious glance at Charlotte. “And I cannot say that I entirely blame her. Sir James is a man fit to bore anyone. He must be thirty years older than she is, at the very least.”
“But extremely wealthy,” Christina pointed out. “And with any decency at all, he will the before another ten years are past.”
“Oh!” Emily rolled her eyes heavenward. “But what can she possibly do for another ten years?”
A small smile flickered across Christina’s face. “She is not without imagination—”
“And that is her misfortune!” Augusta interrupted sharply. “She would be much better off if she had none at all. And whatever your fancy begets, Christina, it would be more discreet if you were not to speak of it. We do not wish to be the prognosticators of other people’s misdeeds.”
Christina took a deep breath. That was obviously precisely what she had wished to be, but curiously she did not argue. In fact, Charlotte thought she saw a momentary pallor, a tightening of her face, but whether it was pity or temper she could not judge.
“I suppose she might occupy herself in some charitable work,” George suggested hopefully. “Emily frequently tells me how much there is to be done.”
“And that is it!” Christina was suddenly savage. “When a gentleman is bored, he may gamble at his club at dice or cards, go to the races, or drive his own pair if he wishes! He may go shooting or play billiards, or go to theaters—and worse places—but if a lady is bored she is expected to occupy herself with charitable works—going round and visiting the hungry or the dirty, muttering soothing words at them and encouraging them to be virtuous!”
There was too much truth in her outburst for Charlotte to argue, and yet she found herself unable even to begin to tell Christina Ross of the sense of purpose and satisfaction she herself found from working to bring about parliamentary reform. There was a reality about it, an urgency to life, that would have made games, or even sports, seem divorced from the world and unbearably trivial.
She leaned forward, searching for a way to express her feelings. Everyone was staring at her, but nothing adequate came to her mind.
“If you are about to expound on the delights of Papa’s military histories, Miss Ellison, please do not bother,” Christina said freezingly. “I do not wish to know about cholera in Sebastopol, or how many wretched souls died in the charge of the Light Brigade. The whole thing seems to me to be an idiot game played by men who should be locked away in Bedlam where they can harm no one but themselves ... and perhaps each other!”
For the only time in her life to that moment, Charlotte felt a rush of sympathy for Christina. “Can you think of a way in which we might enforce that in law, Mrs. Ross?” she said enthusiastically. “Think of all the young men who might not the, if we did!”
Christina looked at her with a curious little frown. She had not expected agreement from anyone, least of all from Charlotte. She had begun by intending only to be rude. “You surprise me, ”she said candidly. “I thought you were a great admirer of the military.”
“I hate blind vanity,” Charlotte answered. “And I deplore stupidity. The fact that they occur in the army more dangerously than anywhere else, except perhaps in Parliament, does not make my respect for courage of the soldier any less.”
“In Parliament?” Augusta was incredulous. “Really, my dear Miss Ellison! Whatever can you mean?”
“A fool in Parliament can oppress millions,” Balantyne offered. “And God knows there are enough of them! And vain ones, too.” He looked at Charlotte with complete frankness, as if he had temporarily forgotten she was a woman. “I have not heard so much sense put so succinctly in years,” he added with a slight drawing together of his brows. “I had a feeling you were about to say something else when Christina brought back the subject of the army. Please tell me what it was?”
“I—” Charlotte was acutely conscious of his eyes upon her. They were a brighter, clearer blue than