Anne Perry - Death On Blackheath

She learned who, later in the evening after the lecture itself was finished and refreshments were offered. Many people congratulated Dr Arbuthnott and asked him further questions about the power and beauty of the far northern oceans.

Emily was in close conversation with Rosalind, and Charlotte had decided to follow behind Ailsa as closely as she could without being obvious. She made herself appear to be looking for an acquaintance, and felt as if she were behaving like a complete eccentric. She hoped she would never have to meet any of those people again socially. Possibly if they thought she was peculiar enough, they would take trouble to avoid her?

She was abundantly rewarded. She followed where she had seen Ailsa disappear, presumably seeking a little respite from the stuffiness and intense conversation of the room. She had walked quite casually under an elaborate archway leading to a side room, a minor gallery. It was beautifully proportioned but leading nowhere except to a large window.

Charlotte did not want a confrontation. It would be far too clumsy, and unmistakable that she had seen Ailsa go in and chosen to follow her. She dared not even go too close, because there were several very fine mirrors, and her passing in front of one would catch anybody’s eye.

Then she stopped abruptly. Inadvertently she had placed herself exactly where she could see Ailsa reflected in a mirror to her side, giving a clear profile angled in a further mirror beyond Charlotte’s line of sight. She could not take her eyes from it! Ailsa was standing quite still beside Edom Talbot. From their closeness to each other, and the look on Talbot’s face, there was no one else in the room. He moved a little behind her so Charlotte could see only his arms as they gently curved around Ailsa’s waist, and his shoulders above hers. She was tall, but he was several inches taller again. He was not a handsome man, but he was in a way distinguished, and quite unmistakable.

Ailsa did not move. She was smiling slightly, as though not only pleased but faintly amused.

Talbot’s hands moved up a little from her waist, gradually inch by inch until he caressed her breasts. He did it with some confidence, as if he did not expect to be denied.

Charlotte studied Ailsa’s face and saw her expression freeze. The gesture had not surprised her, but she found it distasteful. Charlotte could feel it as if it were her own body being touched. She saw the muscles in Ailsa’s neck and throat clench as if she almost stopped breathing.

Charlotte’s mind raced. Why did she endure it? She did not believe for an instant that Ailsa did not know how to deal completely effectively with such a thing. She had only to turn around sharply and confront him, or — even more simply than that — take a very carefully judged step back and put her heel on the instep of his foot, and then her weight. She was a handsomely built woman. The pain would be excruciating. She could pretend it was accidental, and they would both know it was entirely on purpose. And yet she did not.

Talbot bent his head and began to kiss her gently along the back of her neck and shoulder. She seemed to struggle to master her feelings. He could not see her face, only Charlotte could, and she read the revulsion in it as if it had been her own.

Then Ailsa turned and kissed him back quickly and pulled away. She said something, and Talbot smiled back. They began to move.

Charlotte dared stay no longer. There were too many mirrors. She could not afford to be caught staring. One meeting of the eyes and she would never be able to deny it.

Charlotte had no opportunity to tell Emily until they were in the carriage again on the way home, moving swiftly through the brightly lit traffic.

‘What?’ Emily said incredulously. ‘You must be mistaken! Are you sure it was Ailsa?’

‘Yes, of course I am. Apart from her gown, which was quite individual, I could see her face!’

‘Then maybe it wasn’t Talbot! Could Dudley Kynaston have arrived, and we didn’t see him?’ Emily persisted.

‘Dudley? She’s the widow of the brother he adored!’ Charlotte protested.

‘Don’t be naïve!’ Emily said, more with disbelief than criticism. ‘Bennett is dead! What greater compliment could the devoted Dudley give him than to step into his shoes?’

‘That’s disgusting!’ Charlotte retorted. ‘Would you be as quick into my shoes?’

Emily smiled. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I think Thomas is rather sweet! And he’d never be boring! Would he?’

Charlotte realised she was being teased just in time to avoid making a fool of herself, and perhaps making a remark whose sting would linger far more than she intended.

‘He snores,’ she said.

Emily looked crushed. ‘Does he?’

‘No!’

Emily sighed. ‘Jack does. He looks quite beautiful asleep, with those eyelashes. But he does snore — sometimes.’

Charlotte swivelled around. ‘Emily, were you serious that Ailsa could be the mistress that Dudley is so desperate to keep quiet about?’

Emily was immediately sober again. ‘Well, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? It isn’t that it’s so terribly scandalous, so much as it is a desecration of his adored dead brother.’ She stopped. ‘Except that Rosalind told me Ailsa never really got over Bennett. She’s still in love with him.’

‘Perhaps Dudley reminds her of him?’ Charlotte thought aloud. ‘And in a weak moment, a lonely one, she slipped up?’

‘What? And now she can’t say no?’ Emily asked incredulously. ‘Yes, she could. I’ll wager Ailsa could say no to anyone — and mean it. If she’s playing along, then there’s something she wants.’

‘Except that this wasn’t Dudley, it really wasn’t,’ Charlotte insisted. ‘He was a similar height, but it was very definitely Edom Talbot. I saw his face. It was a reflection, but it was perfectly plain. She allowed him to touch her in a very intimate way, but she had to force herself to.’

‘With Talbot,’ Emily said thoughtfully. For a little while she was silent. ‘There are so many possibilities,’ she said at last. ‘We need to discuss this. Come home with me and we’ll talk. It’s still early. I’ll have the carriage take you home after. Please?’

‘Of course,’ Charlotte said instantly. It did not matter whether it was really to discuss whatever they might have observed this evening, or simply because Emily did not want to go home alone — or even worse, to Jack being silent and withdrawn. Possibly he would even be tense about the situation with Kynaston, and therefore perhaps irritable. The very fact that he was not sharing his anxiety with Emily was the cause of hurt, whatever it was about. He probably thought he was protecting her. Men could be incredibly stupid sometimes, trip over the obvious, and still not see it.

But then Emily ought to know that by now, and not make an issue out of something that was not meant to be one.

Or on the other hand, perhaps Jack was drifting out of love, and a far bigger change was needed. And Charlotte was certainly not wise enough to answer that question. But she would go home with Emily and stay at least an hour, if Emily wished it.

‘Do you think it really could be all about Bennett?’ Charlotte asked when they were sitting beside the fire in Emily’s drawing room, which perfectly reflected her tastes and character in its rich golds and pinks, the flashes of red, and the paintings on the walls.

‘Why not?’ Emily asked. ‘He seems to have been reasonable, from what Rosalind says. And actually very nice. He was the handsomer of the two brothers and, at the time he died, he was considered the one with the greatest promise.’

Charlotte thought for a minute, knowing Emily was watching her. ‘That sounds a little difficult to live with,’ she said at last. ‘I wouldn’t entirely blame Dudley if his feelings about Bennett were a trifle mixed. Although Thomas did say he still keeps a portrait of Bennett in his study. He seemed to be devoted. He admired him enormously and in a way strove to be like him, even to finish some of the work Bennett began …’