Pentecost Alley - Anne Perry [73]
Emily had already decided where she intended to go in order to get the badge made. One or two friends had from time to time had need of a discreet and skilled jeweler who was able to either copy a piece or maybe reproduce it from a drawing or photograph. One had accidents. An original piece had been pawned and sold against a debt one did not care to mention to one’s husband and which could not be met from a dress allowance. One misplaced things sometimes. There were even occasions when it was not advisable to wear an original. A jeweler unknown to the rest of the family, and who knew how to keep his own counsel, was a friend to be treasured.
Of course, Emily did not tell him who she was. But he was used to ladies who veiled their faces and whose names did not appear in any social register, even though both their-clothes and their manners suggested that they should. He accepted the commission without demur and promised to have it completed for collection in two days’ time. Emily thanked him, paid him half the price, and promised the rest on completion.
She returned home only just before Jack arrived, coming into her boudoir looking harassed and apologetic.
“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly, and indeed he did look very disturbed about something. His usually immaculate jacket was a trifle crooked and his eyes were tired.
“What is it?” she asked, touched with a moment’s anxiety. “What’s happened?” She rose to her feet and went over to him, her eyes searching his face.
“The Home Secretary has called a meeting this evening,” he said ruefully. “I have to be there or no one will put my point of view. I’m sorry, but it really does matter.”
“Of course you have to,” she agreed, overwhelmed with relief.
“But I promised to take you to the opera. We have the tickets, and I know how much you wanted to see it.”
She had completely forgotten. Beside Tallulah’s troubles it was so unimportant. What was an evening’s entertainment compared with the fears and the loneliness she had seen only an hour or two ago?
“Never mind,” she said, smiling at him. “It is a matter of priorities, isn’t it? Perhaps I shall go and see Charlotte, or something like that. The opera will play again.” She saw the apprehension iron out of his face and felt a sharp twinge of guilt. She already knew exactly what she would do with the late afternoon and evening.
“Thank you, my dear,” Jack said, touching her gently on the cheek. Standing so close to him she could see the fine lines of tiredness around his eyes and mouth and she realized with a jolt how hard he was working, for the first time in his life, at making a success of something which was a challenge to him. It was something which he cared about for himself and for her, and which he feared might be beyond him. He had grown up a younger son, handsome and idle, with a charm which enabled him to live quite easily on those who found his company such a pleasure he could move from one to another of them and never have to think further ahead, or behind, than a few weeks.
Now, because he loved Emily and wanted to fit into her life and her circle, he had looked for depths in himself and discovered them. He had committed himself to a difficult task in which failure was more than possible, and many vested interests were ranged against him. The time of charm without battles, smiling his way out of conflict, was past.
She wanted to reach up to kiss him, but she knew it was not the right time. He was weary. There was a busy, arduous and not entirely pleasant evening ahead of him, and already his mind was straggling with its problems, anticipating them and what he would say or do.
She caught his hand and held it, feeling his fingers close around hers in a moment’s surprise and warmth.
“Don’t be silly,” she said quickly. “I’m not going to sulk over an evening at the opera when what you are doing is really important. I hope I’m never so shallow. I do know what matters, you know.”
He smiled, his eyes lighter with amusement, and for a moment his tiredness vanished.
“I do!” she