Treason at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [93]
“Where is she? Is she safe …?” Safe was a stupid word to use if she was in Ireland with Narraway.
“Thomas, Victor is out there with her. He won’t let any harm come to her if he can prevent it,” Vespasia said softly.
Pitt knew Narraway was in love with her, but he did not want to hear it. “If he cared, he wouldn’t have …,” he began.
“Allowed her to go?” she finished for him. “Thomas, she has gone in order to honor her friendship and loyalty, and above all to protect her husband’s career, and therefore the family’s means of survival. What do you imagine he could have said or done that would have stopped her?”
“Not told her he was going in the first place!” he snapped.
“Really?” She raised her silver eyebrows. “And left her wondering why you did not come home after chasing your informant through the streets? Not that night, or the entire following week? She might have gone to Lisson Grove and asked, by which time she would be frantic with fear. And she would have been met with the news that Narraway was gone and you were nowhere to be found, and there was no one in Lisson Grove to help or support you. Do you feel that would have been preferable?”
“No …” He felt foolish—panicky. What should he do? He wanted to go immediately to Ireland and make sure Charlotte was safe, but even an instant’s reflection told him that it was an irresponsible, hotheaded thing even to think of. By reacting thoughtlessly, he would likely be playing directly into the hands of his enemies.
“I’ll go home and see Daniel and Jemima,” he said more calmly. “If they have had a week of Mrs. Waterman, they may be feeling pretty desperate. She is not an easy woman. I must speak to Charlotte about that, when she gets home.”
“You don’t need to concern yourself—” Vespasia began.
“You don’t know the woman—” he started.
“She is irrelevant,” Vespasia told him. “She left.”
“What? Then …”
Vespasia raised her hand. “That is the other thing I was going to tell you. She has been replaced by a new maid, on the recommendation of Gracie. She seems a very competent girl, and Gracie looks in on them every day. Her reports of this new girl are glowing. In fact I must say that I rather like the sound of young Minnie Maude. She has character.”
Pitt was dizzy. Everything seemed to be shifting. The moment he looked at it, it changed, as if someone had struck the kaleidoscope and all the pieces had shattered and re-formed in a different pattern.
“Minnie Maude?” he said stumblingly. “For God’s sake, how old is she?” To him, Gracie herself was little more than a child, despite the fact that he had known her since she was thirteen.
“About twenty,” Vespasia replied. “Gracie has known her since she was eight. She has courage and sense. There is nothing to concern yourself about, Thomas. As I said—I have been there myself, and everything was satisfactory. Perhaps just as important, both Daniel and Jemima like her. Do you imagine I would allow the situation to remain if that were not so?”
Now he felt clumsy and deeply ungracious. He knew an apology was appropriate; his fear had made him foolish and rude. “Of course not. I’m sorry. I …” He hunted for words.
She smiled. It was a sudden, beautiful gesture that lit her face and restored everything of the beauty that had made her famous. “I would think less of you were you to take it for granted,” she said. “Now, before you leave, would you like tea? And are you hungry? If you are I shall have whatever you care for prepared. In the meantime we need to discuss what is to be done next. It is now up to you to address the real issue behind all this ploy and counterploy by whoever is the traitor at Lisson Grove.”
Her words were sobering. How like Vespasia to discuss the fate of revolution, murder, and treason in high places over tea and a plate of sandwiches in the withdrawing room. It restored a certain sanity to the world. At least something was as it should be. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, steadying himself.
“Thank you. I should very much like a good cup of tea. The prison in