Loretta’s eyes opened wide. “In this weather? My dear, it is bitterly cold and looks as if it might well snow again.”
“Very bracing,” Veronica said immediately. “And I am longing to get a little air.”
The corners of Loretta’s full-lipped mouth curved upward minutely. “Are you going to call upon anyone?”
This time Veronica was slower, and her eyes slid away from her mother-in-law’s. “I . . . er—”
“We have not decided,” Charlotte interrupted for her, smiling at Loretta. “We thought we could go wherever the whim took us.”
“I beg your pardon?” Loretta was put off her stride by such an unexpected answer.
“We have not decided,” Veronica repeated, seizing on the escape. “We shall drive for pleasure. I have been inside too much lately. I am sure fresh air would do me good. I feel peaked.”
“And what about Miss Barnaby?” Loretta inquired. “She is not in the least peaked. In fact she appears in the most robust good health.”
Charlotte knew she had anything but the pale and languid look of fashion, but she did not care. “I am perfectly happy to take a ride,” she insisted. “Perhaps we should see some sights.”
“You are too amiable,” Loretta said coolly. “I thought perhaps you might have considered visiting Harriet Danver.”
They all knew she meant Julian, but they kept up the fiction.
With Charlotte’s moral support Veronica had gathered courage. This time she met Loretta’s eyes. “No,” she said blandly. “We had merely said it would be nice to take a ride. I thought I might show Elisabeth some of the fashionable places in London that she has not seen.”
“In this weather?” Loretta said again. “There is no sun whatever and it will be dark by four. Really, my dear, you are being a trifle impractical.”
“Then we had better hurry.” Veronica was not to be dissuaded. Her will was growing stronger; Charlotte could see it in the angle of her head and the increasing quickness of her answers.
Loretta smiled sweetly, taking them both by surprise. “In that case I shall come with you. Then if you do decide to call upon the Danvers you will not be unchaperoned, which would be most unsuitable. After all, it is Saturday, and Mr. Danver may well be at home. We must not be ill thought of.”
Suddenly Veronica seemed seized by panic, as if she were enmeshed in a net and every new twist to free herself only bound her more tightly. Charlotte could see the rise and fall of her bosom as she fought for bream, and her hands clenched at her sides as if she would tear at her skirt.
“I shall have Elisabeth with me!” Her voice rose sharply, almost out of control. “I know the rules! I—”
Loretta stared at her, eyes careful, steady, almost warning, a tight smile on her lips. “My dear girl—”
“How generous of you.” Charlotte immediately wished she had not stepped in: it might have been more productive to let the scene play itself out. She should have thought more of detection and less of friendship. But it was too late now. “I am sure we should enjoy your company, especially if we take a walk in the park.” She thought of the raw wind slicing in off the open grass and whining through the wet, leafless trees.
But Loretta was not to be deterred so easily. “I think, Miss Barnaby, that when you step outside you will change your mind, but if that is what you wish then I shall wait in the carriage for you.”
“You’ll freeze!” Veronica said desperately.
“I am much stronger than you think, my dear,” Loretta replied levelly, and as Veronica turned away Charlotte was startled to see tears in her eyes. What was this emotion between these two women? Veronica was afraid; Charlotte had seen fear often enough to know. And yet Veronica was not naturally submissive, and now that Robert was dead she ought to have no need to cater to his feelings for his mother. Financially she was secure, and she was all but engaged to marry again. Why was she so afraid? Everything Loretta had done, at least on the surface, had been in her interest.
If only Charlotte could learn what sort of a marriage it had been, how it had begun. Had Loretta adored her only son, and had she been too demanding of her daughter-in-law? Had she interfered, criticized, been open in her disappointment because there had been no grandchildren? There could be a dozen passions or griefs behind the driving emotion that bound these two women.
The tense silence in the room was broken when the door opened and Piers York came in. Charlotte had not met him before, but she knew him immediately from Pitt’s description: elegant, a trifle stooping, face wry with self- deprecatory good humor.
“Ah!” he said with slight surprise on seeing Charlotte.
Veronica forced a smile; it was ghastly, a travesty of pleasure.
“Papa-in-law, this is Miss Barnaby, a new friend of mine who has been good enough to call. We were going to take a short drive.”
“What an excellent idea,” he agreed. “Rather cold, but better than sitting inside all day. How do you do, Miss Barnaby.”
“How do you do, Mr. York,” Charlotte replied warmly. He was the sort of man she liked without needing to think about it. “I’m so glad you approve. Mrs. York”—she glanced at Loretta—“was afraid we should not enjoy it because it is so chill outside, but I feel exactly as you do, that whatever the weather it is better to go out for a little while, even if only to better appreciate the fire when we return.”
“What a sensible young woman.” He smiled. “I have no idea why fashion so admires the drooping young creatures who lie about being bored with everything. They have no idea how tedious they are. I pity the man who is naive enough to marry one of them. Still, I suppose they are all taking a pig in a poke anyway!”
“Piers!” Loretta said tartly. “Please keep that sort of unfortunate language for your club! It has no place here. You will offend Miss Barnaby.”
