Rutland Place - Anne Perry [56]
“Oh, I don’t think it could be he!” she said involuntarily.
Emily’s stare was very straight. “Why not?”
Then perception flashed across her face. She knew her sister too well for comfort; indeed she had always had a disconcertingly acute judgment of most people, both about what they wanted and, even more uncomfortably, why they wanted it. It was a facility, coupled with a sharp realism in her desires and the restraint to keep a still tongue in her head, that had led to her considerable success in Society. Charlotte had far more imagination, but it lacked a bridle. She failed to take account of social conventions, and therefore many of the motives of others eluded her. It was only when the darker, more elemental and tragic passions were involved that she understood instinctively, and often with a sharp and painful wave of pity.
“Why not?” Emily repeated, finishing her soup. “Do you think that because he is handsome he is therefore decent? Don’t be such a child! You ought to know better than to imagine that simply because someone is attractive he is not capable of the most facile and disgusting things as well. Handsome people are often extremely selfish. To be able to charm others is very dangerous to the character. It comes as a shock, sometimes an unacceptable one, to find there is something you want and you may not have it. He would not be the first simply to take it! If he has been brought up to believe he has only to smile and people will do as he wishes—For heaven’s sake, Charlotte, remember Selena! She was totally spoiled by having been told she was a beauty!”
“You don’t need to belabor the point,” Charlotte interrupted her angrily. “I understand you perfectly. I have met spoiled people too! And I have not forgotten how everyone twittered over Monsieur Alaric. He had only to show up and half the women in the Walk made fools of themselves!”
Emily gave her a dry look, her own memories less than entirely comfortable.
“Then you had better put on your best dress, and we shall go and call on Mama right away,” she said briskly. “Before she goes out, or receives anyone else. We can hardly say what we have to unless we are alone.”
Caroline received them with surprise and delight.
“My dears, how marvelous! Do come in and sit down. How wonderful to see you both!” She was dressed in the softest lavender-pink dress, high to the throat, with a fichu of lace falling gently. At any other time Charlotte would have envied her it; a gown like that would have suited her wonderfully and, far more important than the mere look of it, would have made her feel beautiful. Now all she could think of was how flushed Caroline was, how gaiety and even excitement bubbled just beneath the surface.
She glanced across at Emily and saw the chill of shock in her eyes.
“Emily, do sit over here where I can see you,” Caroline said cheerfully. “You haven’t been here for ages—at least it seems like ages. It is far too early for tea, and I suppose you have had luncheon already?”
“Onion soup,” Emily said with a little wrinkle of her nose.
Caroline’s face fell. “Oh, my dear! Whatever for?”
Emily reached for her bag, opened it, and took out her perfume. She touched herself liberally with it and then offered it to Charlotte.
“Mama, Charlotte tells me you have had some tragic happenings here lately,” she began, ignoring the question of the soup. “I’m so sorry. I wish you had written me. I would like to have been here to offer some comfort to you.”
Considering how radiant Caroline looked, the remark seemed somewhat misplaced. Charlotte had never seen anyone less distressed.
Caroline recollected herself rapidly. “Oh yes, Mina Spencer-Brown. Very sad indeed—in fact, quite tragic. I cannot think what drove her to it. I wish I had been able to help. I feel awfully guilty, but I had no idea at all there was anything wrong.”
Charlotte was conscious of the minutes ticking away, mindful that early callers might come at any time after