Silence in Hanover Close - Anne Perry [147]
At last dinner was announced and they went in, two by two, taking the places Vespasia had set for them with meticulous forethought: Harriet next to Felix Asherson and opposite Jack, so he could see any expression in their faces; Julian next to Charlotte; and most important, Loretta and Garrard next to each other, under the chandelier, so no flicker of muscle, no shadow in their eyes could escape Charlotte directly opposite.
Soup was served, lobster bisque, and conversation flagged. Next came the fish, deviled whitebait, then the entree of quenelle of rabbit. When they were just beginning the removes of quarter of lamb, Aunt Vespasia regarded Julian Danver with an agreeable smile. “I understand you are quite a rising star in the Foreign Office, Mr. Danver,” she said. “A most responsible situation, not without its dangers.”
He looked surprised. “Danger, Lady Cumming-Gould? I assure you, I seldom leave the extremely comfortable and eminently safe rooms of the Foreign Office itself.” He smiled at Veronica quickly, then back again at Vespasia. “And even if I were posted abroad to some embassy, I would insist on it being in Europe.”
“Indeed?” Her silver eyebrows rose. “In what country’s affairs do you specialize?”
“In the affairs of Germany, and its interests in Africa.”
“In Africa?” she asked. “I believe the kaiser has some imperial designs there, which may inevitably conflict with ours. You must be involved in delicate negotiations.”
His smile remained. All the other conversation had stopped and faces were turned towards him.
“Of course,” he agreed.
The corners of Vespasia’s mouth curled upwards very slighdy. “And do you never fear betrayal, or even some slight, quite honest mistake that could hand the advantage to your opponents—your nation’s opponents?”
He opened his mouth to reply, dismissing her fears; suddenly the words died and a shadow touched his face. Then he banished it.
“One has to be careful, of course, but one doesn’t speak of state matters outside the Foreign Office itself.”
“And of course you know exactly whom to trust.” Charlotte made it more of a statement than a question. “I imagine treason begins little by little. First a small confidence elicited, perhaps by someone in love.” She glanced at Harriet and then back at Felix. “Personal loyalties can make such a mess of morality,” she said quietly, aware of what she herself was doing even at this moment, aware of friendship, the unwritten laws of hospitality—and of love that overrode them all. It was not that she thought she was right, or that love excused it, simply that it was elemental, as an animal protects its own.
There were spots of color in Felix’s pale cheeks. Sonia had stopped eating, and she clutched her fork in a white hand whose knuckles shone. Perhaps she was not as complacent as she seemed after all.
“I think you are—romanticizing, Miss Barnaby,” Felix said awkwardly.
Charlotte looked at him innocently. “Do you not believe in the strength of love to overcome judgment, Mr. Asherson, even for a moment?”
“I. . .” He was caught. He smiled to cover his dilemma. “You press me to be ungallant, Miss Barnaby. Shall I say I know no woman, however charming, who would ask the questions I was not free to answer?”
For a moment Charlotte was beaten. But then if it were so easy, it would not have eluded her thus far.
“You don’t know the mysterious woman in cerise?” The words were out before she had time to judge them. She saw Jack’s eyes widen and Aunt Vespasia let her fork fall onto her place with a little click. Veronica held her breath, staring at Charlotte as if she had cast aside a mask to reveal a reptile’s form. Garrard’s face was bloodless, his skin yellow-gray.
It was Loretta who broke the silence, her voice grating in the stillness. “Really, Miss Barnaby, you have a taste for the melodramatic which