Seven Dials by Anne Perry Page B

unfortunate taste in earrings. “Is someone you know considering him?”
    “I rather think so,” Emily lied with practiced social ease. She was used to the accommodations of good manners. “Should she not?”
    “Well, there’s plenty of money, I believe.” Mrs. Edsel leaned forward a little, her face eager. Gossip was food and drink to her, but she also genuinely wished to be helpful. “A very good family. His father, Ferdinand Garrick, is a highly influential man. Excellent military record, so my husband says.”
    “So why would his son not be a good match?” Emily asked innocently.
    “Perhaps for the right woman, he might be.” Mrs. Edsel remembered her social aspirations and became more circumspect.
    “And for the wrong woman?” Charlotte could contain herself no longer.
    Mrs. Edsel regarded her with a shadow of suspicion. She knew Emily, but Charlotte was a stranger, and neither her possible use nor her danger was known.
    A shadow of warning crossed Emily’s face, and of criticism for having interrupted.
    There was no way to take it back. Charlotte made herself smile, and it felt a bit like the baring of teeth. “I am concerned for a friend,” she said with perfect honesty. Despite their differing stations, Gracie was most certainly a friend; few others were as good.
    Mrs. Edsel eased a fraction. “Is your friend young?” she enquired.
    “Yes.” Charlotte guessed this was the correct answer.
    “Then I think she would be wiser to look elsewhere-unless she is very plain.”
    This time Charlotte held her tongue.
    “What is his fault?” Emily asked with extraordinary boldness. “Does he have disreputable friends? Who might know him?”
    “Oh, really…” Mrs. Edsel was now torn between anxiety at committing an irretrievable indiscretion, and a burning curiosity. “He belongs to the usual clubs, I’ve heard,” she went on. That remark was surely safe enough.
    “Does he?” Emily opened her blue eyes very wide. “I cannot recall my husband mentioning him. Perhaps I simply did not notice.”
    “I am sure he is a member of Whites,” Mrs. Edsel assured her. “And that is just about the best.”
    “Indeed,” Emily agreed.
    “Anyone who is anyone…” Charlotte murmured sententiously.
    Mrs. Edsel gave a little gasp, and then a giggle, quickly stifled. “To be honest, I really don’t know. But my husband says he drinks a good deal more than he can hold… rather often. It is not a gross fault, I know, but I don’t care for it myself. And he is somewhat morose of temperament. I find that most difficult. I prefer a man of reliable demeanor.”
    “So do I.” Emily nodded, avoiding Charlotte’s eyes in case she should laugh, knowing what a lie that was. It sounded unutterably boring.
    “And I!” Charlotte added with feeling as Mrs. Edsel looked to her for approval. “Indeed, if you are going to spend some time with a person, it is essential. One cannot be forever wondering what to expect.”
    “You are quite right,” Mrs. Edsel said with a smile. “I hope you do not think I am forward, but I would advise your friend most decidedly to wait a few months longer. Is it her first season?”
    Charlotte and Emily said yes and no at the same moment, but Mrs. Edsel was looking at Charlotte.
    For the next half hour or so they spoke agreeably of the difficulty of making a suitable marriage and how glad they all were to be fortunately placed already, but not yet faced with the duty of finding husbands for their daughters. Charlotte had to work very hard, scrambling in her memory for the right things to say. It was also a balancing act worthy of a circus performer not to give away Pitt’s socially unacceptable occupation. However, possibly “Special Branch” would sound better than “policeman,” but she was not supposed to speak of it. It hurt her pride to pretend complete ignorance, and in these enlightened days even Mrs. Edsel was startled at such feminine simplicity.
    As soon as they were