The Hyde Park Headsman - Anne Griffin Perry [173]
She arrived at Mina’s house within the hour, long before Pitt got there, and was greeted with pleasure and the sort of ease that usually exists only after considerable friendship. Ordinarily she would have felt guilt for using so generous an emotion in such a way, but today there was no room in her mind for anything but necessity.
“How delightful to see you Mrs. Pitt,” Mina said enthusiastically. “How is your new house? Are you quite comfortable there now?”
“Indeed, thank you,” Charlotte replied, seeing Bart Mitchell behind her with intense relief. “I like it extremely. Good morning, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Pitt,” he replied, not troubling to keep the surprise from his face. He took a step forward.
“Please do not leave on my account,” she said in far too much haste. “I should feel most distressed.” Then she could have kicked herself for overreaction. She sounded absurd. And yet if he left the whole journey would be abortive, and there was no time to lose. There were only a few days at most before Pitt would be off the case forever.
“Well—I …” He looked startled. It was not the reaction he could possibly have foreseen.
Then a wild idea occurred to Charlotte, desperate and ridiculous, but her own dignity was beside the point now. All she could think of was Thomas.
She had no difficulty in blushing. She certainly felt fool enough. She lowered her eyes modestly, as though to hide her emotions, and then looked up at him suddenly in the way she had seen countless women do. Emily did it to a devastating effect. She herself had only tried it a few times in her youth, and made a complete exhibition of herself.
Bart looked even more taken aback, but he did not leave, in fact he sat on the sofa as if fully intending to remain.
Good heavens. Could he possibly be attracted to her? Or was he merely flattered?
Mina was saying something and Charlotte had not heard a word of it. She must pay attention or she was going to compound the situation by even further idiocy.
“How kind of you,” she murmured, hoping it fitted the circumstance.
Mina rang the bell and as soon as the maid appeared, ordered cool lemonade. That must have been what she had said.
Charlotte searched her wits for some intelligent topic of conversation. She knew nothing of current gossip in society, she had neither the means nor the inclination; it was not done for women to discuss politics; she was not up-to-date with fashion. She did not wish to go boldly into the subject of the Headsman. She had not been to the theater in months, nor to a concert.
“How is your arm? I hope the burn is healing,” she said to fill the silence.
“Yes, indeed,” Mina replied, raising her eyebrows as if she had not expected it. “Much more rapidly than I had thought it could. I believe your swift action may have saved me endless discomfort.”
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. “I know cold water is merely an ease of the symptoms, which is very often nothing to do with treatment at all. But in the case of burns, the ease seems to last, and there is much less of a mark left. Do you agree, Mr. Mitchell?”
“I think I am obliged to, Mrs. Pitt,” he replied with a smile. “Although I have little experience of domestic scalding.”
“Of other burns, perhaps?” she pursued with far more desperation than her slightly shaking voice betrayed.
His smile broadened. “Oh yes. I have quite accidentally cured sunburn with cold water.”
“Sunburn? How interesting.” She gazed at him with rapture as if it were the most fascinating subject imaginable. He did have remarkable blue eyes.
He shifted his gaze discreetly and proceeded to tell her of his travels in Africa, of becoming sunburned and