Long Spoon Lane - Anne Perry [56]
“Thank you,” Vespasia accepted. “That would be most pleasant.”
Cordelia reached for the bell.
After the instructions were given, they both sat down, settling their skirts with almost identical movements, and Vespasia began in earnest. She had made the alliance, now she must justify it.
“Those who are against us will attack our motives,” she began. “We must be certain we have the most acceptable and logical reasons, and that we give only those. Too much explanation looks like excuse.”
Cordelia did not look impressed.
“They will not be able to criticize you, or Mr. Denoon,” Vespasia made an intense effort to keep the impatience out of her voice. “And possibly not Mr. Tanqueray, although I do not know enough about him to be certain. But what of our other allies? It is an obvious tactic to fire at the most vulnerable and pick off the supporters one by one.”
A sudden flame of intelligence lit Cordelia’s face. “Yes, of course it is,” she acceded. “And it works in reverse also. We would be well advised to learn who will stand against us.”
Vespasia controlled her eyes, her voice, the hands lying loosely in her lap. She was playing a dangerous game, and she was well aware of it. “Precisely,” she agreed. “Somerset Carlisle will be one of them. He is eccentric, but he is well liked. Others have tried to defame him, and met with little success. There is also Jack Radley, I believe. He has a distant connection to my family, but he is very minor in Parliament. I do not believe attacking him will be perceived as anything but a desperate action, and we do not wish to appear either spiteful or driven to a last resort.”
“They seem negligible so far,” Cordelia agreed. “Is there anyone about whom we should concern ourselves?” There was mild amusement in her eyes, but she was listening. She knew Vespasia would not have come without a purpose.
“Sir Charles Voisey,” Vespasia answered, hoping to heaven she was wise in drawing him to Cordelia’s attention. “He has far more influence than it might appear.”
Cordelia’s black brows rose questioningly. “Really? I had not heard of him until that extraordinary business to do with the republicans, and his shooting that Italian and apparently saving the Queen. I never know how much of that sort of thing to believe.”
Vespasia felt her heart lurch, and the sharpness of loss as if it had been yesterday. The Italian that Cordelia referred to so condescendingly having been the greatest love in Vespasia’s life.
Vespasia looked down at the hands in her lap. She could not afford to have Cordelia meet her eyes. “Voisey has associations,” she replied quietly. “Friends and enemies in many places. Men contract obligations, you know, and acquire certain pieces of knowledge.”
“You mean—” Cordelia began.
She was prevented from completing the sentence by the arrival of the parlor maid, who announced the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Denoon. Should she ask them to wait in the morning room, or show them in here?
Cordelia had no choice but to welcome them. She masked her appearance that her conversation was thus interrupted, and told the maid to show them in.
Enid was naturally in black also, but she had relieved it a trifle at the throat with a cameo brooch of extraordinary beauty, and her fair hair gave her a delicacy, almost a sense of life, that Cordelia lacked. She greeted Vespasia with interest little short of amazement.
Denoon himself looked grim. He was civil, but did not pretend to be pleased to see a relative stranger at what he had apparently assumed would be a family occasion.
Cordelia lost no time in explaining Vespasia’s presence. She did not prevaricate or concede to niceties once the customary greetings had been exchanged. “Lady Vespasia has our concerns very much at heart,” she said bluntly. “She has just warned me of the importance of guarding not only ourselves from political attack, but our allies as well.”
“Considerate of you, Lady Vespasia,” Denoon said coldly, condescension clear in his face. “But quite unnecessary. I am more than aware of such currents. One can hardly run a newspaper if