Long Spoon Lane - Anne Perry [107]
He looked surprised, temporarily caught on the wrong foot. “I am.”
“Good.” She stared at him. “So is Sir Charles.”
“That is not a reason for you to see him, Mrs. Pitt! He is an extremely dangerous man…” His voice rose, getting sharper, angrier. “Do not go anywhere near him again. Do you understand?”
“I know that, Mr. Narraway,” she replied icily, ignoring the fact that he was correct, Voisey’s opposition to the bill was no reason for her going to see him. “But you appear to have forgotten that my husband works for you. I do not,” she continued. “Or are you threatening me that if I do not do as you wish, you will somehow punish him for it?”
He looked startled. “Of course not!” His face was tight, his eyes burning. “But I will not allow him to be distracted from his work because he is worried that his irresponsible wife is endangering herself by meddling where she has no concern. I assume you care for his safety, and have learned, if not obedience, then at least loyalty?”
She was so furious she ached to be able to lash out at him, even physically, but she dared not, for Pitt’s sake. “Mr. Narraway,” she said, almost choking on the words. “I would like to tell you to mind your own business, and to ask how you dare to come here and ask me impertinent questions. But as you have pointed out, you are my husband’s superior, and if I do such a thing I may be jeopardizing his position, so I cannot.”
His face went white, stiff, his eyes very bright. “I am concerned for your safety, you stupid woman! If your husband cannot keep you in control, then someone else needs to.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the real reason she had gone to see Voisey, but if she did then perhaps he would also see that no matter what happened to Pitt, she could not use her evidence against Mrs. Cavendish. She must keep it to protect herself and her children. She had more hostages to fortune than Voisey had. She should have known that. The threat would work for Pitt, if Voisey hurt the rest of his family, but not for her. She did not want Narraway to know that and see her defeat. She glared at him in intense, bottled-up rage.
“Your choice of language is becoming offensive, Mr. Narraway. I think you had better leave.” She tried to say it with immense dignity, and was halfway through when it suddenly struck her that he had meant exactly what he said. He was frightened for her. There was emotion in his face, which was oddly vulnerable. He was so rigid because her safety mattered to him, and he was not used to caring. He felt naked.
Now she was aware of heat in her own face and she looked away.
“I assure you, I have no intention of seeing Sir Charles again,” she said quietly. “I have no desire to impede your inquiries, or cause Thomas any anxiety for my safety. But I do believe the bill before Parliament is dangerous, and I intend to continue doing what I can to assist those who are fighting against it. Good day, Mr. Narraway.”
“Good day, Mrs. Pitt,” he said quietly. He allowed her to conduct him to the front door. She did not meet his eyes this time, because she was afraid of what she might see there, and be obliged to acknowledge. Then he would know that she understood, and it was better that that never happen.
She closed the door behind him, and stood still for a moment, breathing hard.
10
“I SUPPOSE I should consider myself fortunate you escaped with your life,” Narraway said tartly when Pitt reported the Josephine incident to him late that afternoon. He had spent the intervening time tracing as much as he could of the connection between Simbister and the Josephine. He had found definite proof on paper and he was pleased with himself.
“Yes,” Pitt agreed, remembering far too vividly the ice-cold darkness and the sound of water closing around him, shifting, gurgling, sucking the hull of the boat down, the only light that of the matches Voisey was striking one after another. It flickered through his mind to wonder what physical fear