The Cater Street Hangman - Anne Perry [17]
“Do you know Cumberland, Mr. Decker?” Emily asked. She did not like Decker, and resented his curiosity.
Decker looked a little taken aback.
“No, Miss Ellison. Is it—pleasant?”
Emily turned to George, raising her eyebrows.
“Very beautiful, if a little rustic,” he replied. “It lacks a good many of the amenities of civilized living.”
“No gaslights?” Charlotte asked. “Surely they must have hot water, and fires?”
“Certainly, Miss Ellison. I was thinking of gentlemen’s clubs, imported wines, tailors fit to patronize, theatres of anything but the most bucolic—in short, society.”
“It must be most distressing for your sister,” Miss Decker said drily. “I must be sure not to marry a man with the misfortune or the perversity to live in Cumberland.”
“Then if such a gentleman should ask you, you will have to refuse him,” Charlotte said tartly. Emily hid a smile. Apparently Charlotte did not like Miss Decker any more than she did. But, please heaven, she was not going to be rude! “Let us hope you have an offer more to your liking,” Charlotte finished.
Miss Decker flushed in annoyance.
“I don’t doubt I shall, Miss Ellison,” she snapped.
George sat forward, his handsome face darkened, his lip tight.
“I doubt you will get an offer more favourable than Lord Carson’s, Miss Decker. Not for marriage, at least!”
There was a moment’s hot silence. It was inexcusable for him to have embarrassed a woman in such a fashion, whatever the provocation. Caroline was at a loss for words.
Emily had to do something.
“It is as well we do not all have the same tastes,” she said quickly. “But I dare say Lord Carson’s estates are very comfortable. Living in a place is quite different from visiting it. One always finds plenty to do when one is at home. There are responsibilities.”
“How perceptive you are,” George agreed. “Lord Carson’s estates are extremely wide. He breeds bloodstock, and runs a prize herd of cattle; and, of course there is extensive shooting and fishing. There are mills of some sort also—”
He stopped suddenly, realizing he was speaking of possessions, of money, in a manner that was vulgar. “Eugenie has more than enough to do, especially with three children.”
“She must indeed be busy,” Caroline said noncommittally.
And so the afternoon continued. The conversation recovered. Emily worked hard to see that it did so, and Sarah was sufficiently impressed to exercise her very best manners, which were excellent.
Afterwards Emily and Charlotte were alone in the withdrawing room. Charlotte opened the doors to let in the late afternoon sun.
“You were not a great deal of help,” Emily said a little crossly. “You might have perceived what manner of creature Miss Decker is!”
“I also perceived what manner of creature he is,” Charlotte replied, staring at the roses.
“Mr. Decker?” Emily said in surprise. “He is nothing.”
“Not Decker. Your Lord Ashworth. That yellow rose is going to be out tomorrow.”
“What on earth does that matter? Charlotte, I mean to have George Ashworth offer for me, so just control your tongue while he calls upon us!”
“You what?” Charlotte turned round in amazement.
“You heard me! I mean to marry him, so just play at being courteous at least for the present.”
“Emily! You hardly know him!”
“I will, by the time it matters.”
“You can’t marry him! You’re talking nonsense!”
“I’m speaking perfectly good sense. You may be happy to spend your life dreaming, but I am not. I have no illusions that George is perfect—”
“Perfect!” Charlotte said incredulously. “He’s appalling! He’s shallow, a gambler, and probably a rake! He’s not—not a part of our world, Emily. Even if he married you, he would make you wretched.”
“You’re a dreamer, Charlotte. There is no man who won’t make you wretched some time or other. I think George will have more to compensate for it than most, and I mean to marry him. I won’t allow you to prevent me.” She meant it. Standing in the withdrawing room in the gold evening sunlight, looking at Charlotte’s face, the light on her heavy hair, she realized just how profoundly