Long Spoon Lane - Anne Perry [46]
The muscles in Emily’s face tightened. “The Circle wanted Jack to become a member, you know? He refused.” She swallowed. “Sometimes I wish he hadn’t won a seat. Then he could have followed some other profession with an easy conscience, and been safe.” She bit her lip, embarrassed at the confession.
“Do you? Is that who you want him to be?” Charlotte asked. Then she smiled, halfheartedly, at her own weakness. “I wish that too, sometimes. If Thomas could have stayed in the police, just doing what somebody else told him to, as a constable, he wouldn’t have had to make any decisions that other people might not have liked, and he wouldn’t be in much danger. Poorer of course. And if Jack had stayed in a junior position, that wouldn’t affect you, because of the money you inherited, but it would affect Jack. He’d hate it.”
“I know. I know,” Emily surrendered, lowering her eyes. “And what we would have liked doesn’t matter anyway, it’s what we have that we must deal with. There are some good people against the bill—Somerset Carlisle, of course. He would be.” She named half a dozen other members of Parliament with wry, slightly disparaging comments. “And of course several of their prosperous constituents are crying out for peace in the streets and safety in the home, a return of the rule of law, and so on. They are saying the police are ineffectual because we don’t give them the power or the weapons they need.” She looked very steadily at Charlotte. “One of the most serious opponents of the bill, and best speaker against it, is Charles Voisey.”
“Oh.” Charlotte’s mind raced. She remembered a dark night on Dartmoor, fleeing the rented cottage with Gracie and the children; Tellman helping them; then long evenings alone in Keppel Street because Pitt was in Whitechapel and she had no idea when he would be home, or even if he would be at all. He had had to live there in lodgings, walk the alleys in the failing gaslight and the shadows. It was all Voisey’s doing, his guilt and his hatred. It made most perfect sense that he would fight this battle, even if only to thwart Wetron. “Not the ally I would have chosen,” Charlotte said aloud, smiling ironically. “But perhaps better than none.”
“I would rather look for others,” Emily said curtly. “By the way, his sister, Mrs. Cavendish, is back in society, you know. There is even talk that she may marry again, and well. But that is by the way. I shall have to learn what more I can about the members. You know, sometimes I wish women did have the vote, then perhaps people would be obliged to listen to us with more attention.”
“We can hardly afford to wait for that!” Charlotte retorted. “But by all means let us think whose aid we might enlist now.”
They considered it for some time, making suggestions and adopting or abandoning them. Working together on a plan was something Charlotte had missed, and there was a warmth to it, in spite of the gravity of the subject. It was almost time for luncheon when they heard Jack’s footsteps outside, and the moment later he stood in the doorway. He looked harassed, and surprised to see Charlotte.
Emily turned towards him, then stood up quickly. There was a solicitude in her manner that was not characteristic, and Charlotte knew her well enough to read her fear in it. She greeted Jack; he spoke to both of them, but he looked as if he had anxieties on his mind, and was disconcerted not to find Emily alone.
“We were talking of the Police Bill,” Charlotte said, by way of explaining her presence. “Thomas is very unhappy about it.”
“Yes, I know,” Jack agreed as he sat down. “He saw me earlier this morning.”
Emily stood in the middle of the room. The sunlight fell in bright patterns on the carpet and the polished wood in the wide margins around it. The perfume of the late tulips was heady in the warmth.
“We were trying to think who else might be helpful,” Emily said. “We have a few ideas.”
Jack frowned. “I would prefer