Treason at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [106]
“Did he pay you?” She could not keep the contempt from her voice.
His head came up sharply. “No he did not! I did it because I hate Narraway, and Mulhare, and all other traitors to Ireland.”
“Victor is not a traitor to Ireland,” she pointed out. “He’s as English as I am. You’re lying.” She picked a weapon out of her imagination. “Did he have an affair with your wife, as well as with Kate O’Neil?”
Tyrone’s face flamed, and he half rose from his chair. “If you don’t want me to throw you out of my house, woman, you’ll apologize for that slur on my wife! Your mind’s in the gutter. But then I daresay you know your brother a great deal better than I do. If he is your brother, that is?”
Now Charlotte felt her own face burn. “I think perhaps it is your mind that is in the gutter, Mr. Tyrone,” she said with a tremor in her voice, and perhaps guilt, because she knew what Narraway felt for her.
Unable to piece together a defense, she attacked. “Why do you do this for Charles Austwick? What is he to you? An Englishman who wants to gain power and office? And in the very secret service that was formed to defeat Irish hopes of Home Rule.” That was an exaggeration, she knew. It was formed to combat the bombings and murders intended to terrorize Britain into granting Home Rule to Ireland, but the difference hardly mattered now.
Tyrone’s voice was low and bitterly angry. “I don’t give a tinker’s curse who runs your wretched services, secret or open. It was my chance to get rid of Narraway. Whatever else Austwick is, he’s a fool by comparison.”
“You know him?” She seized the only part of what he was saying that seemed vulnerable, even momentarily.
There was a tiny sound behind her; just the brushing of a silk skirt against the doorjamb.
She turned around and saw Bridget Tyrone standing a yard from her. Suddenly she was horribly, physically afraid. She could scream her lungs out here and no one would hear her, no one would know … or care. It took all the strength she had to stand still, and command her voice to be level—or at least something like it.
It would be absurd to pretend Bridget had not overheard the conversation.
Charlotte was trapped, and she knew it. The fury in Bridget’s face was unmistakable. Just as Bridget moved forward, Charlotte did also. She had never before struck another woman. However, when she turned as if to say something to Tyrone and saw him also moving toward her, she swung back, her arm wide. She put all her weight behind it, catching Bridget on the side of the head just as she lunged forward.
Bridget toppled sideways, catching at the small table with books on it and sending it crashing, herself on top of it. She screamed, as much in rage as pain.
Tyrone was distracted, diving to help her. Charlotte ran past, out of the door and across the hall. She flung the front door open, hurtling out into the street without once looking behind her. She kept on running, both hands holding her skirts up so she did not trip. She reached the main crossroads before she was so out of breath she could go no farther.
She dropped her skirt out of shaking hands and started to walk along the dimly lit street with as much dignity as she could muster, keeping an eye to the roadway for carriage lights in the hope of getting one to take her home as soon as it could. She would prefer to be far away from the area.
When she saw an unoccupied cab, she gave the driver the Molesworth Street address before climbing in and settling back to try to arrange her thoughts.
The story was still incomplete: bits and pieces that only partially fit together. Talulla was Sean and Kate’s daughter. When had she known the truth of what had happened, or at least something like it? Perhaps more important, who had told her? Had it been with the intention that she should react violently? Did they know her well enough, and deliberately work on her loneliness, her sense of injustice and displacement, so that she could be provoked into murdering Cormac and blaming Narraway? To her it could be made to seem a just revenge for the destruction of her family.