Highgate Rise - Anne Perry [56]
“They must have had suitors?” Charlotte said before she thought.
He was tidying the curtains automatically and straightened up to look at her.
“Of course. But he saw them off in short shrift, and made sure the call of duty drowned out everything else.”
Charlotte saw a world of disappointment and domestic details, suppressed and confused passions forever overlaid by pious words and the irresistible pressures of ignorance, fear and guilt; duty always winning in the end. Whatever the Worlingham sisters did to occupy their minds and justify the arid years of their lives was to be pitied, not added to further by blame.
“I don’t think I would have cared for the bishop either,” she said with a tight smile. “Although I suppose he is like a great many. They are certainly not the only daughters whose lives have been spent so, with father—or mother. I have known several.”
“And I,” he agreed.
Perhaps the conversation might have gone further had not Caroline and Grandmama appeared in the doorway of the withdrawing room across the hall and seen them.
“Ah, good,” Caroline said immediately. “You are ready to leave. We were just saying good-bye to the Misses Worlingham. Mr. and Mrs. Hatch have already gone.” She looked at Shaw. “May we extend our condolences to you, Dr. Shaw, and apologize for intruding upon a family occasion. You have been most courteous. Come, Charlotte.”
“Good afternoon, Dr. Shaw.” Charlotte held out her hand and he took it immediately, holding it till she felt the warmth of him through her gloves.
“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Pitt. I look forward to our meeting again. Good day to you.”
“Perhaps I should—” Charlotte glanced towards the withdrawing room door.
“Nonsense!” Grandmama snapped. “We have said all that is necessary. It is time we left.” And she marched out of the front door, held open for them by a footman; the parlormaid was presumably occupied in the kitchen.
“Well?” Grandmama demanded when they were seated in the carriage.
“I beg your pardon?” Charlotte pretended mystification.
“What did you ask Shaw, and what did he say, child?” Grandmama said impatiently. “Don’t affect to be stupid with me. Awkward you may be, and certainly lacking in any degree of subtlety whatever, but you are not without native wit. What did that man say to you?”
“That Clemency was precisely what I had supposed her,” Charlotte replied. “But that she preferred to keep her work for the poor a private matter, even from her family, and he would be most obliged if I learned anything about who murdered her.”
“Indeed,” Grandmama said dubiously. “He took an uncommonly long time to say so little. I shouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if he did it himself. There is a great deal of money in the Worlingham family, you know, and Theophilus’s share, as the only son, passed to his daughters equally. Shaw stands to inherit everything poor Clemency had.” She rearranged her skirts more carefully. “And according to Celeste, even that is not sufficient for him. He has set his cap on that young Flora Lutterworth, and she is little better than she should be, chasing after him, seeing him in private goodness knows how many times a month. Her father is furious. He has ambitions for her a great deal higher than a widowed doctor twice her age and of no particular background. Caroline, please move yourself farther to the left; you have not left me sufficient