Highgate Rise - Anne Perry [98]
“I believe so. Are you afraid?”
“Yes ma’am.” Gracie’s thin little face hardened. “But I in’t stoppin’ ’ere. I’m going’ ter ’elp yer, never doubt that, an’ nob’dy in’t going’ ter stop me. Nor I in’t going’ ter let yer go there on yer own, neither.”
Charlotte gave her a great hug, taking her utterly by surprise so she blushed fiercely with pleasure.
“I wouldn’t dream of going without you,” Charlotte said candidly.
While Charlotte and Gracie were following the path of Clemency Shaw, Jack Radley looked up one of his less reputable friends from his gambling days, before he had met Emily, and persuaded him that it would be both interesting and profitable to take a turn around some of the worst rented accommodation in London. Anton was very dubious about the interest it would afford, but since Jack promised him his silver cigar cutter—he had given up the habit anyway—he understood the profit readily enough, and agreed to do it.
Jack absolutely forbade Emily to go with them, and for the first time in their relationship he brooked no argument whatsoever.
“You may not come,” he said with a charming smile and completely steady eyes.
“But—” she began, smiling back at him, searching for a lightness in him, a softness in his expression which would allow her to win him over. To her surprise she found none. “But—” she began again, looking for an argument in her favor.
“You may not come, Emily.” There was not a flicker in his eyes and no yielding in his mouth. “It will be dangerous, if we have any success, and you would be in the way. Remember the reason we are doing this, and don’t argue the toss. It is a waste of time, because whatever you say, you are not coming.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Very well,” she conceded with as much grace as she could muster. “If that is what you wish.”
“It is better than that, my love,” he said with the first edge of a smile. “It is an order.”
When he and Anton had departed, leaving her on the doorstep, she felt completely betrayed. Then as she gave the matter more reasoned consideration, she realized that he had done it to protect her from both the unpleasantness of the journey and the distress of what she would inevitably see; and she was pleased that he showed such concern. She had no desire to be taken for granted. And while she did not like being denied or countermanded, she also did not like being able to prevail over his wishes. Getting your own way too often can be singularly unsatisfying.
With an idle afternoon on her hands, and a mind teeming with questions, she ordered the other carriage. After dressing extremely carefully in a new gown from Salon Worth in Paris, a deep thunder blue which flattered her fair coloring, and embroidered lavishly in blouse front and around the hem, she set out to visit a certain lady whose wealth and family interests were greater than her scruples. This she knew from high society friends she had met in the past, at places where breeding and money were of far more account than personal affection or any form of regard.
Emily alighted and climbed the steps at the Park Lane address. When the door was opened, she presented her card and stood her ground while a slightly disconcerted parlormaid read it. It was one of Emily’s old ones from before her remarriage, and still read “The Viscountess Ashworth,” which was very much more impressive than “Mrs. Jack Radley.”
Normally a lady would have left her card so the lady of the house might in turn leave hers and they would agree on a future time to meet, but Emily was clearly not going to depart. The parlormaid was obliged either to ask her to go or to invite her in. The title left her only one choice.
“Please come in, my lady, and I will see if Lady Priscilla will receive you.”
Emily accepted graciously, and head high, walked through the large hallway