Anne Perry - Callander Square

Emily was hot on the scent.

“I should not think him a great deal of fun,” she pursued.

“No, indeed.” Sophie looked her up and down and moved a little closer. Emily knew a confidence was coming and her blood tingled with excitement. She smiled encouragingly.

“She is very,” Sophie hesitated, “attracted-to Brandy Balantyne. So charming, Brandy. I swear if I were not simply devoted to Freddie, I should be quite in love with him myself!”

Emily took a deep breath, her heart beating in her throat.

“You mean,” she said in wonder, “she is having an affair with Brandy?”

Sophie held up her finger to her lips, but her eyes were dancing. “And she is expecting!” she added. “About the third month!”

It was three days before Emily could visit Charlotte and report to her on the Friday afternoon party and deliver her astounding news. The weekend was quite out of the question, not only because George had arranged for them several engagements: a day at the races on Saturday, and then dinner with friends, and on Sunday a society wedding in the midafternoon and the inevitable celebration afterward; but also, of course, because Pitt would be at home. Having reached the rank of inspector, he was not required to work at such times unless he were pursuing a most urgent case. The deaths of two babies, probably illegitimate and some servant girl’s, would not fall in that category.

Emily was in no way ashamed of what she was doing, but she preferred that Pitt should remain unaware of it, at least for the time being.

However, by Monday morning she could contain herself no longer, and took the unprecedented step of calling for her carriage at ten o’clock and having herself driven directly to Charlotte’s house.

Charlotte was both incredulous and amused. She opened the door herself, in a plain stuff dress and apron.

“Emily! What in goodness’ name are you doing here?” There was no need to ask if some disaster had brought her, her face was glowing with excitement; indeed Charlotte could not remember having seen such a look of satisfaction on her face since Emily had announced that she was going to marry George Ashworth: not that he had known it at the time, of course.

“I have the most devastating news!” Emily said, almost willing Charlotte out of the way so she could enter. “You will hardly believe it when I tell you.”

Charlotte summed up the nature of her news immediately.

“Detecting agrees with you more than I expected,” she said with wide eyes. “Perhaps you should have married Thomas, not I!”

Emily stared at her with withering reluctance, and then dismay. It was quite a moment or two before she realized Charlotte was teasing her.

“Why, Charlotte-you-” she could think of no word that both described her feelings, and was fit for the tongue of the lady she felt herself to be.

Charlotte laughed.

“Come in, tell me what you have detected, before you burst!”

Emily had intended to drop her clues one by one, to extend the story to its utmost tension, but she could not bear it herself.

“Euphemia Carlton is having an affair!” she said proudly. She waited for Charlotte’s amazement.

Charlotte gratified her, widening her eyes and letting the duster fall from her hand.

“There!” Emily shone with satisfaction. “Pitt hasn’t found that out, has he? The affair is with Brandy Balantyne, and that isn’t all!” She hesitated, for effect.

Charlotte sat down.

“Well?” she inquired.

Emily sat beside her.

“She is expecting! The third month!”

Charlotte was genuinely impressed, and she was perfectly sure Pitt did not know any of this, whether it was actually relevant or not.

“How do you know?” she asked. It seemed the oddest information to have come by on so short an acquaintance.

“Sophie Bolsover told me. She is a silly, harmless creature, and does not seem to have the least notion of its meaning.”

“Or else she knows it has no meaning,” Charlotte did not wish to burst the bubble of Emily’s excitement, but the truth always came to her mouth as soon as it occurred to her mind, and she had not yet managed much skill in controlling it. Besides, it was kinder in this instance not to let the supposition grow without examination.

“How could she possibly know such a thing?” Emily demanded. “If Euphemia is having an affair with Brandy Balantyne, the child will be his! And another thing I haven’t told you-I saw Sir Robert Carlton. He is quite old. Very grand and distinguished, but fearfully grim looking. And his hair is fair and his eyes quite light. Brandy is very dark; his hair is black and his eyes hazel, dark-colored.”

Charlotte remained unimpressed.

“Euphemia is fair!” Emily exploded with exasperation. “Her hair is very handsome, red gold! If the child’s hair is black, there will be the most fearful scandal! No wonder she is frightened.” She blinked. “Thank goodness George is dark and I am fair. Whatever my child should be like, it will raise no comment,” she said quite casually, merely a thought in passing. Emily was practical, above all things.

Charlotte accepted it as such.

“That really is very important,” she said seriously. “About Euphemia and Brandy Balantyne, I mean.”

Emily beamed with satisfaction. She was more pragmatic and more assured than Charlotte, and yet there was something in Charlotte, perhaps an inner certainty of her own beliefs, that made Charlotte’s praise peculiarly valuable to her.

“Shall you tell Mr. Pitt?” she asked.

“I think I must! Is there any reason why I should not?”

“No, of course not. Why else should I tell you? My dear, you know better than to imagine I should trust you with a secret!”

Charlotte was hurt, and it showed in her face.

“Not that you would tell it,” Emily said quickly. “But you would never lie, not successfully. You would betray that you knew something, by your very discomfort, and then have to swear silence. The whole thing would be awful, and grow to be far more important than the secret itself.”

Charlotte stared at her.

“I lie very well,” Emily added. “I think that makes for a good detective, especially if you are not of the police, and therefore cannot be direct in your interest. As soon as I discover something further, I shall tell you.”

Charlotte thought for a moment or two, and then spoke carefully.

“Perhaps you had better see if you can find out how long this affair has been going on. But Emily-please be careful! Do not be carried away with your successes. If they discover what you are doing, you may become very disliked.” She took a deep breath. “More than disliked. As you say, there would be a dreadful scandal. Sir Robert is in the government. If Euphemia was prepared at best to bury her own dead children without Christian rites, or, at worst, actually to kill them herself to protect her reputation, she will not easily let you expose her now!”

Emily had not considered any personal danger before, indeed it had never entered her head that any part of the business would affect her at all. Now she was suddenly cold. The story had suddenly become reality.

Charlotte saw her face pale, her hands clench involuntarily. She smiled and put her fingers over Emily’s.

“Just be careful,” she warned. “Detection is not just an exercise of the mind, you know. People are real, and love and hate are dangerous.”

When Pitt returned in the evening Charlotte met him almost at the door. Emily’s news had been simmering inside her all day, and with the sound of Pitt’s step on the pavement, it had finally come to the boil. She caught hold of his lapels and kissed him quickly.