Long Spoon Lane - Anne Perry [102]
“I have no idea,” Vespasia admitted. “Cordelia is the one of whom I would have the least difficulty in believing would have the mind and the heart to do it, but I can think of no way in which she would have the ability, even if she were aware of Magnus’s proposed actions. And he surely would not tell her.”
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said gently. She made no excuses that Pitt would have to follow the truth wherever it led him, or whatever other tragedies it exposed. They both knew that too well for it to be anything but patronizing to observe it.
“Cordelia has invited me to call upon her again, within the next day or two,” Vespasia said after a moment. “I think I shall go this afternoon, immediately after luncheon.”
Charlotte was surprised. “Did she? Do you think perhaps she is fond of you after all?”
Vespasia’s eyes filled with wry amusement. “No, my dear, I do not. Lady Albemarle is giving a dinner on Tuesday evening. I have been invited, although she will not expect me to accept. I imagine Cordelia has not, and wishes me to go, in order to exercise such influence as I have in favor of the bill. She will have to swallow a very large and awkward slice of pride in order to ask me. It will offer some wild entertainment to watch her.” She said it lightly, but there was no pleasure in her face. Her words were of Cordelia, but Charlotte knew her thoughts were with Sheridan. “Would you care to stay for luncheon?” she invited.
“Yes, very much, thank you,” Charlotte accepted without hesitation.
Vespasia dressed in the softest, very dark lilac gray. It was the sort of color that in silk resembles the edges of the evening sky. It became her extraordinarily well, of which she was naturally aware. It was not vanity. She was equally aware that there were colors that did not become her at all, such as all oranges, golds, and browns. The more difficult the task ahead, the more important it was to look one’s best.
She arrived at the Landsboroughs’ house unannounced, but the footman invited her to enter immediately. He must have had instructions to that effect. It was now early afternoon; a little soon for the usual caller, but it was a perfectly acceptable time for a close friend to come.
The family had just risen from their meal and were in the withdrawing room. Vespasia was not surprised to find Enid and Denoon also present. In the circumstances she had half-expected it. Sheridan Landsborough stood to greet her; the others murmured polite acknowledgments.
“Vespasia,” he said warmly, but with a pucker of anxiety in his features. He still looked very drawn, and a glance at him was sufficient to know that he slept little. “How are you?” It was clear from his expression that he did not know Cordelia had asked her to come.
“I am quite well, thank you,” she replied, allowing her eyes to express her concern for him. To have returned the inquiry would make her seem blind to his obvious pain.
Denoon rose to his feet, but only as much as courtesy demanded.
Cordelia came forward, her chin high. “How good of you to come,” she said, trying to invest her tone with warmth, and failing. She was immaculately dressed in black silk with jet beads, so discreet one had to glance a second time to see them. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and dramatically streaked with white at the temples, but her skin was like dirty paper, smudged and too thin, stretched in all the wrong places. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
Vespasia smiled. She knew this last remark was directed at Denoon, because his look of distaste to see Vespasia again so soon appeared to be an extraordinary breach of tact, even of decency, in the circumstances.
Denoon’s eyes widened.
“It could be my pleasure,” Vespasia said smoothly. She inclined her head towards Enid who gave her a half-smile in return, then she sat down in the large chair Cordelia indicated, and arranged her skirts with unconscious grace. “What may I do to help?”
“We need all the assistance we are able to raise,