Treason at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [64]
Charlotte smiled back, utterly without warmth. “Either they were not serious, or if they were, then they missed the subtlety of your words,” she replied. “I think you anything but simple,” she added for good measure.
Talulla laughed. It was a brittle sound. “You flatter us, Mrs. Pitt. It is Mrs., isn’t it? I do hope I have not made the most awful mistake.”
“Please don’t concern yourself, Miss Lawless,” Charlotte replied. “It is very far from the most awful mistake. Indeed, were it a mistake, which it isn’t, it could still quite easily be put right. Would that all errors were so simply mended.”
“Oh dear!” Talulla affected dismay. “How much more exciting your life must be in London than ours is here. You imply dark deeds. You have me fascinated.”
Charlotte hesitated, then plunged in. “I daresay the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. After watching the play last night I imagined life was full of passion and doom-laden love here. Please don’t tell me it is all just the fervor of a playwright’s imagination. You will entirely ruin the reputation of Ireland abroad.”
“I didn’t know you had such influence,” Talulla said drily. “I had better be more careful of what I say.” There was mocking and anger in her face.
Charlotte cast her eyes down toward the floor. “I am so sorry. I seem to have spoken out of turn, and struck some feeling of pain. I assure you, it was unintentional.”
“I can see many of your actions are unintentional, Mrs. Pitt,” Talulla snapped. “And cause pain.”
There was a rustle of silk against silk as a couple of the other women moved slightly in discomfort. Someone drew breath as if to speak, glanced at Talulla, and changed her mind.
“Just as I am sure yours are not, Miss Lawless,” Charlotte replied. “I find it easy to believe that every word you say is entirely both foreseen, and intended.”
There was an even sharper gasp of breath. Someone giggled nervously.
“May I offer you more tea, Mrs. Pitt?” Dolina asked. Her voice was quivering, but whether with laughter or tears it was impossible to say.
Charlotte held out her cup. “Thank you. That is most kind.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Talulla said tartly. “For heaven’s sake, it’s a pot of tea!”
“The English answer to everything,” Dolina ventured. “Is that not so, Mrs. Pitt?”
“You would be surprised what can be done with it, if it is hot enough.” Charlotte looked straight at her.
“Scalding, I shouldn’t wonder,” Dolina muttered.
CHARLOTTE RELAYED IT TO Narraway later that night, after dinner. They were alone in Mrs. Hogan’s sitting room with the doors open onto the garden, which was quite small, and overhung with trees. It was a mild evening, and a moon cast dramatic shadows. In unspoken agreement they stood up and walked outside into the balmy air.
“I didn’t learn anything more,” she admitted finally. “Except that we are still disliked. But how could we imagine anything else? At the theater Mr. McDaid told me something of O’Neil. And O’Neil himself implied that I was here to meddle in Irish affairs—‘like your friend Narraway,’ as he said. It is time you stopped skirting around it and told me what happened. I don’t want to know, but I have to.”
He was silent for a long time. She was acutely aware of him standing perhaps a yard away from her, half in the shadow of one of the trees. He was slender, not much taller than she, but she had an impression of physical strength, as if he were muscle and bone, all softness worn away over the years. She did not want to look at his face, partly to allow him that privacy, but just as much because she did not want to see what was there.
“I can’t tell you all of it, Charlotte,” he said at last. “There was quite a large uprising planned. We had to prevent it.”
“How did you do that?” She was blunt.
Again he did not answer. She wondered how much of the secrecy was to protect her, and how much was simply that he was ashamed of his role in it, necessary or not.
Why was she standing out here shivering? What