Traitors Gate - Anne Perry [86]
To her surprise Charlotte felt sorry for him, but she could not say anything which would be interpreted as praise for the Inner Circle, which was what the whole conversation was about. Eustace was so naive, sometimes she felt as if he were a child, an innocent.
“But the ideals of the Round Table were still the finest,” she said gently. “And Galahad was without sin, or he would never have seen the Holy Grail. The thing is, one may find the good and the bad together, professing the same beliefs; all of us have weaknesses, vulnerabilities, and most of us have a tendency to see what we want to in others, most especially others we admire.”
Eustace hesitated.
She looked at his face, his eyes, and saw for a moment his struggle to understand what she really meant, then he abandoned it and settled for the simple answer.
“Of course, dear lady, that is undoubtedly true.” He turned to Vespasia, who had been listening without comment. “Who is that remarkable woman in the box next to Lord Riverdale? I have never seen such unusual eyes. They should be handsome, they are so large, and yet they are not, I declare.”
Vespasia followed his gaze, and saw Christabel Thorne, sitting beside Jeremiah and talking to him with animation. He was listening with his gaze never wavering from her face, and with not only affection but very apparent interest.
Vespasia told Eustace who they were. Then she pointed out Harriet Soames in company with her father, and also displaying a most open affection and pride.
It was only a few moments after that when there was something of a stir in the audience. Several heads turned and there was a cessation of general whispering, but also a sudden swift commenting one to another.
“The Prince of Wales?” Eustace wondered with a touch of excitement in his voice. As a strict moralist he would have disapproved unequivocally of the Prince of Wales’s behavior in anyone else. But princes were different. One did not judge them by the standards of ordinary men. At least Eustace did not.
“No,” Vespasia said rather tartly. She applied the same standards to all; princes were not exempt, and she was also fond of the Princess. “The Secretary of State of Colonial Affairs, Mr. Linus Chancellor, and his wife, and I believe her brother-in-law, Mr. Francis Standish.”
“Oh.” Eustace was not sure whether he was interested or not.
Charlotte had no such doubts. Ever since she and Pitt had seen Susannah Chancellor at the Duchess of Marlborough’s reception, she had found her of great interest, and overhearing her discussion with Kreisler at the Shakespearean bazaar had naturally added to it. She watched them take their seats, Chancellor attentive, courteous, but with the ease of one who is utterly comfortable in a marriage while still finding it of intense pleasure. Charlotte found herself smiling as she watched, and knowing precisely what Susannah felt with her turning of the head to accept his rearranging of the shawl across her chair, the smile on his lips, the momentary meeting of the eyes.
The lights dimmed and the music of the national anthem began. There was no more time for wandering attention.
When the applause died down and the first interval commenced it was a different matter.
Eustace turned to Charlotte. “And how is your family?” he enquired, but out of politeness, and to preempt any return to the subject of King Arthur, or any other society, past or present.
“They are all well, thank you,” she replied.
“Emily?” he pressed.
“Abroad. Parliament is in recess.”
“Indeed. And your mama?”
“Traveling also.” She did not add that it was on honeymoon. That would be altogether too much for Eustace to cope with. She saw a twitch of laughter in Vespasia’s mouth, and looked away. “Grandmama has moved into Ashworth House with Emily,” she continued hastily. “Although of course she has no one there but the servants at present. She does not care for it at all.”
“Quite.” Eustace had the