Paragon Walk - Anne Perry [79]
The faintest suspicion crossed her face that he was somehow amused by her, but, since she saw nothing funny herself, she dismissed it as a foreign joke and not worthy of attention.
“Certainly not,” Lady Tamworth agreed enthusiastically. “There is no limit to what can be accomplished if we band together. And there is so much to be done, if we are to preserve our Society.” She glanced balefully across at Simeon Isaacs, head bent to Albertine Dilbridge, his face alight. “And we must act quickly, if we are to succeed! At least that abominable Mr. Darwin is dead and can do no more harm.”
“Once an idea is published, Lady Tamworth, its originator does not need to survive,” Alaric pointed out. “Anymore than the seed need the sower in order to flourish.”
She looked at him with distaste.
“Of course you are not English, Monsieur Alaric. You could not be expected to understand the English people. We will not take seriously such blasphemies.”
Alaric affected innocence.
“Was not Mr. Darwin an Englishman, then?”
Lady Tamworth shrugged her shoulder sharply.
“I know nothing about him, nor do I wish to. Such men are not a fit subject for the interest of decent people.”
Alaric followed the line of her eye.
“I’m sure Mr. Isaacs would agree with you,” he said with a faint smile, and Charlotte was forced to stifle a giggle by pretending to sneeze. “Being a Jew,” Alaric continued, avoiding her eye, “he would not countenance Mr. Darwin’s revolutionary theories.”
Hallem Cayley drifted up, his face heavy, another glass in his hand.
“No,” he looked at Alaric with dislike. “The poor sod believes man is made in the image of God. I think the ape far more likely, myself.”
“You are surely not saying now that Mr. Isaacs is a Christian?” Lady Tamworth bridled.
“A Jew,” Hallam answered carefully and distinctly, then took another drink. “The Creation belongs to the Old Testament. Or haven’t you read it?”
“I am of the Church of England,” she said stiffly. “I don’t read foreign teachings. That is primarily what is wrong with society these days: a great deal of new foreign blood. These are names now that I never heard of when I was a girl! No breeding. Heaven only knows where they come from!”
“Hardly new, ma’am.” Alaric was standing so close to Charlotte, she fancied she could feel the warmth of him through the thick satin of her gown. “Mr. Isaacs can trace his ancestry back to Abraham, and he back to Noah, and so back to Adam.”
“And so back to God!” Hallam drained his glass and dropped it on the floor. “Impeccable!” He glared triumphantly at Lady Tamworth. “Makes the rest of us look like yesterday’s bastards, doesn’t it?” He grinned broadly and turned away.
Lady Tamworth shook with rage. Her teeth clicked quite audibly. Charlotte felt a pity for her, because her world was changing, and she did not understand it; it had no place for her. She was like one of Mr. Darwin’s dinosaurs, dangerous and ridiculous, beyond its time.
“I think he has had too much to drink,” she said to her. “You must excuse him. I don’t suppose he meant to be so offensive.”
But Lady Tamworth was not mollified. She could not forgive.
“He is appalling! It must have been associating with men like that that gave Mr. Darwin his ideas. If he does not leave, then I shall.”
“Would you care for me to escort you home?” Alaric asked instantly. “I doubt Mr. Cayley will leave.”
She looked at him with loathing, but forced herself to refuse civilly.
Charlotte burst into giggles, covering her face with her hands.
“You were quite dreadful!” she said to him, furious with herself for laughing. She knew it was the pressure of fear and excitement as much as humor, and she was ashamed. “You do not have the sole prerogative to be outrageous, Charlotte,” he said quietly. “You must allow me a little fun as well.’
A few days later Charlotte received a note from Emily, written in haste and some excitement. From something that Phoebe had said, Emily was now perfectly convinced that, in spite of her self-righteous prying,