Death in the Devil's Acre - Anne Perry [57]
“I was going to say that when I have time to spare, I involve myself in an attempt to have some of the laws upon child prostitution reformed, so that they would be a great deal more rigid than at present, and it would be a very grave offense either to use children oneself or to traffic in the use of them, whether they are boys or girls.”
Alan Ross turned to face her, his eyes keen.
“Really?” Augusta’s expression was one of complete incomprehension. “I would not have imagined one could have any success in such a venture without considerable knowledge upon the subject, Miss Ellison.”
“Of course not.” Charlotte accepted the challenge and stared back at her unflinchingly. “It is necessary to acquire it, or one can have no influence at all.”
“How extremely distasteful,” Augusta said, closing the subject.
“Of course it is distasteful.” Alan Ross refused to be silenced. “I think that is what Brandy was saying the other evening—you remember Brandy, Miss Ellison? But then if those of us who are able to reach the ears of Parliament do not care about such ills, who will effect any change?”
“The church,” Augusta said finally. “And I am quite sure they will do a better job of it than we will by indulging in wild and unprofitable speculation over the dinner table. Brandon, will you be so good as to pass me the mustard? Christina, you had better have a word with your cook—this sauce is totally insipid. It is no better than cotton wool! Do you not think so, Miss Ellison?”
“It is mild,” Charlotte replied with a slight smile. “But I do not find it disagreeable.”
“How odd.” Augusta turned over her fork. “I would have expected mustard to be much more to your taste!”
After the meal was finished, the butler brought in the port. Augusta, Christina, Emily, and Charlotte excused themselves to the withdrawing room to leave the gentlemen to drink, and to smoke if they wished. It was the part of the evening Charlotte had looked forward to least. She was sharply aware of Christina’s dislike, and now also of Augusta’s disapproval. And above either of these unpleasant feelings, she felt acutely nervous about what Emily might do. She had come for the sole purpose of pursuing the names and characteristics of Christina’s less reputable friends, with a view to discovering if any of them might have been seduced by Max. Please heaven she was at least subtle about it—if one could conceivably be subtle about such a thing.
Emily gave her a warning look before they sat down. “You know, I do so agree with you,” she said to Christina with an air of conspiracy. “I long to do something a little more adventurous than calling upon people one already knows positively everything about—and making polite and tedious conversation. Or else doing ‘good works.’ I am sure they are very worthy, and I admire those who can enjoy them. But I confess I do not.”
“If you attend church occasionally, and look after the families of your servants, that is all that is required of you,” Augusta pointed out. “Other good works of visiting, and so on, are only necessary for single ladies who have nothing else to do. It keeps them occupied and makes them feel useful. Heaven knows there are enough of them—one must not usurp their function!”
They all seemed for the moment to have forgotten that, as far as they knew, Charlotte fell into that category.
“I think perhaps I shall take to riding in the park,” Emily mused. “One might meet all manner of interesting people there—or so I have heard.”
“Indeed,” Christina said. “I know exactly what you mean. But believe me, there are things which one may do that have far more spirit of adventure, and are a great deal more entertaining, than writing letters or making social calls upon people who are inexpressibly dull. It is not really improper, if one does not go alone, for one to visit—”
“Do you paint, Miss Ellison?” Augusta cut across Christina