Silence in Hanover Close - Anne Perry [37]
After the formal greetings had been exchanged, the usual small talk began. Since all the others were known to each other, it centered upon Charlotte and Jack Radley, and Charlotte concentrated on giving answers that made sense factually and were also in keeping with the character she had created for herself. She was supposed to be a young woman of modest means and good breeding, and, naturally, in search of a husband. Maintaining this role required all her attention, and it was not until they were at dinner round a table gleaming with silver and crystal, partaking of a rather too salty soup, that she was able to take time to observe the rest of the company.
The conversation was still very general: comments upon the unpleasantness of the weather, then minor points of news—nothing political or even remotely contentious—and then remarks about a play that most of them had seen. Charlotte replied only when good manners demanded, which gave her time to think. She might not get this opportunity again, so she must take full advantage of it.
The things she hoped to discover were few, but they would add to the little she had learned from Pitt. How long had Julian Danver and Veronica been acquainted? Did their love predate Robert York’s death, and thus cause it? Was Julian Danver an ambitious man, either in his profession or socially? Was there a noticeable difference in their financial status, so that money might have been a motive, either for Veronica or for him?
Charlotte had grown up in a home where quality was intensely admired, even on those occasions when it could not be afforded. It was one of a well-bred young lady’s attributes that she should be able to distinguish the excellent from the merely good, and naturally also its cost. She had been in the hall and withdrawing room of the York house, and she judged that they had had money long enough to be comfortable with it. There was none of the tendency to show off which so often accompanied recent acquisition. They felt no necessity to parade new furnishings or decorations, or put objets d’art in prominent positions.
Of course, she was quite aware that people’s circumstances can change; she had seen many houses with fine rooms where guests were received, while the rest of the building lacked even a carpet and grates did not know a fire from one Christmas to another. And some prefer to keep a full complement of servants while they themselves eat barely enough to keep alive, rather than be seen to have a poor establishment. But Charlotte had noticed the women’s clothes. They were of the latest cut and there were no worn places on cuffs or elbows; nothing had been altered to fit another season, or turned to hide patches. And she had done enough of that kind of thing herself to know precisely where to look for the telltale needle holes, the slightly different shading of fabric.
Now as she pretended to listen to the conversation across the table, she glanced as discreetly as she could at the dining room and its furnishings. The whole effect was silver and blue, pale on the immaculate wallpaper, dark royal blue in the curtains, which seemed to be without the usual faded marks that the sun so quickly made in blues, which meant they were not above a season old. Perhaps that indicated a tendency to extravagance? There was a painting of a Venetian scene on the wall opposite her, but Charlotte could not tell whether it was excellent or merely agreeable. The table itself was mahogany, or at least the legs were; the top was completely covered by crisp damask of heavy quality.