Paragon Walk - Anne Perry [56]
Pitt felt he was losing the thread. He tried to pull her back.
“Monsieur Alaric—”
“Nonsense!” she repeated firmly. “My husband has known the Nashes for years, so naturally he is loath to admit it, even to himself, but it is quite obvious that Fulbert has run away because he himself was guilty of molesting poor Fanny. I dare say in the dark he mistook her for a maid, or something, and then when he discovered who she was, and she of course saw him, there was nothing he could do but kill her to keep her silent. It is perfectly awful! His own sister! But then men are perfectly awful, at times, it is their nature, and has been ever since Adam. We are conceived in sin, and some of us never rise above it.”
Pitt searched his mind and found no answer to that, and anyway his thoughts were revolving on her earlier words and the thought that had never occurred to him before, that Fulbert could have mistaken Fanny for someone else, a maid, a kitchen girl, someone who would never dare to accuse a gentleman of forcing himself on her or, for that matter, might not even have minded, could possibly have encouraged him. And then, when he found it was his own sister, the horror and the disgrace not only of rape but of incest would have panicked many a man into murder! And that applied equally to all three of the Nash brothers! His brain was in a whirl with the enormity of it, the vast new dimensions it opened up. Vista upon vista swam into his imagination and fell away endlessly. The whole problem would have to be started again almost from the beginning.
Grace was still talking, but he was not listening anymore. He needed time to think, to be outside in the sun where he could rearrange all that he knew in this new light. He stood up. He knew he was cutting across her speech, but there was no other way to escape.
“You have been extraordinarily helpful, Lady Dilbridge. I am most grateful.” He smiled at her dazzlingly, leaving her a little startled, and swept out into the hallway and through the front door, coattails flapping, sending the maid on the step over backward, her broom at her shoulder like a guardsman presenting arms.
It was a long, hot and busy week later, when Charlotte announced to him that Emily was giving a soiree. He had very little idea what that was, except that it occurred in the afternoon, and that she had been invited to it. He was preoccupied with waiting for news from Paris about Paul Alaric and with the wealth of detail he had learned about the personal lives in the Walk, since he had begun, with Forbes’s wide-eyed and willing assistance, to inquire all over again in the totally new light of Grace Dilbridge’s suggestion. It seemed, if everyone was to be believed, that there were a great many more relationships of varying natures than he had suspected. Freddie Dilbridge was quite notorious. Something secret, and apparently thrilling to those who partook, was assumed to happen at some of his more riotous parties. And Diggory Nash had given way to temptation on more than a few occasions. There was much speculation about Hallam Cayley, especially since the death of his wife, but he had not yet sorted out the direct lies from the fantasies on that one, and had even less idea how much might actually be truth. Apparently George had at least had the good sense to keep his indulgences out of the servants’ quarters, although it was beyond doubt he had certainly entertained feelings toward Selena, heartily reciprocated, which would deeply hurt Emily if she ever had to know. But if there were anything but wishful thinking about