Paragon Walk - Anne Perry [72]
Pitt wondered why Alaric should lie as to his origin?
Then he recalled that Alaric had never said anything about his origin. Everyone else had said he was French, but Alaric himself had said nothing at all, and Pitt had never seen reason to ask. Freddie Dilbridge’s accusation was probably exactly what Grace had said it was—a desire to attract attention away from his own friends. Who easier to accuse than the only foreigner?
Pitt dismissed the Paris reply and went back to the practical investigation.
The investigation proceeded through the long, hot days, tedious question after question, and gradually Pitt was obliged to turn his attention to other crimes. The rest of London did not suddenly cease from robbery, deceit, and violence, and he could not spend all his hours on one mystery, however tragic or dangerous.
Life slowly resumed a more normal pattern in the Walk. Of course, Selena’s ordeal was not forgotten. Reactions to it varied. Oddly enough, Jessamyn was the most sympathetic. It was as if the old enmity between them had been entirely swept away. It fascinated Emily, because not only did they show a new friendship toward each other, there seemed to be a glow of satisfaction about it in both of them, as if each felt in her own way she had won a signal victory.
Jessamyn was all solicitude for Selena’s appalling experience and coddled her on every reasonable occasion, even prompting other people to the same concern. Of course, it did have the byproduct of allowing no one to forget the incident, a fact which Emily noted with some amusement and passed on to Charlotte when visiting her.
And curiously, Selena herself did not seem to mind. She colored deeply and her eyes were bright when it was referred to, always obliquely, of course—no one could wish to be vulgar enough to use unpleasant words—but she seemed to take no offense at its mention.
Naturally there were others who regarded it quite differently. George studiously avoided the subject altogether, and Emily permitted him to do so for some time. She had originally decided to dismiss her knowledge of his involvement with Selena, provided it never happened again. Then one morning an opportunity presented itself which was too good to miss, and almost without being conscious of it, she found herself taking advantage.
George looked up over the breakfast table. Aunt Vespasia was down early this morning and had helped herself delicately to apricot preserve with walnuts in, and a little very thin toast.
“What are you going to do today, Aunt Vespasia?” George inquired politely.
“I shall endeavor to avoid Grace Dilbridge,” she replied, “which will not be easy, since I have certain calls to make, as a matter of duty, and no doubt she will have the same ones. It will require some forethought to see that we do not come across each other at every step and turn.”
George said the automatic thing, partially because he was not really listening.
“Why do you wish to avoid her? She’s harmless enough.”
“She is excessively tedious,” Aunt Vespasia said smartly, finishing her toast. “I used to think that her suffering and the continuous, eyes-upturned expression of it was the nadir of boredom. But that was easy to take compared with her views on the subject of women who are molested, the general bestiality of men, and certain woman who contribute to everyone’s misfortune by encouraging them. That is more than I can bear.”
Emily spoke, for once, a fraction before she thought, her natural feelings for Selena stronger than her usual caution.
“I would have thought you might agree with her, at least in some respects?” she said, turning to Vespasia, a little edge to her voice.
Vespasia’s gray eyes widened.
“To disagree with Grace Dilbridge and yet have to listen to her with civility is part of the normal trials of Society, my dear,” she replied. “To be obliged by honesty, to agree with her, and to say so, is