exaggeration, but Zenobia let it pass. She recalled how sedate and pompous Gerald Carfax had been, and pictured Mary's long boredom over the years, the brief dream of love fading at last, buried, because to remember it made the present unbearable.
'Then he married with his heart?' she remarked. 'How very commendable. No doubt he is very happy.'
Lady Mary drew breath to declare that certainly he was, then she remembered Etheridge's murder and realized that would be a highly unfortunate thing to say. 'Ah, well...'
Zenobia waited with the question written large in her face.
'His father-in-law died tragically a very short time ago. He is still in mourning.'
'Oh dear-oh!' Zenobia affected sudden intelligence. 'Oh, of course! Vyvyan Etheridge, murdered on Westminster Bridge. How perfectly wretched. Please accept my condolences.'
Lady Mary's face tightened. 'Thank you. For one who has just returned from the outreaches of the Empire you are very well informed. No doubt you have missed Society. I must say, one would have considered oneself safe from such outrages in London, but apparently not! Still, no doubt it will all be solved and forgotten soon. It can have nothing whatsoever to do with us.'
'Naturally,' Zenobia said with difficulty. She remembered acutely why she had disliked Mary Carfax so much. 'It is hardly like marrying a cheesemaker.'
Lady Mary was oblivious to sarcasm; it was outside her comprehension. 'A great deal depends upon upbringing,' she said serenely. 'James would never have done such a selfish and completely irresponsible thing. I would not have
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permitted him to entertain such an idea when he was young, and of course now he is adult he still respects my wishes.'
And your purse strings, Zenobia thought, but she said nothing.
' 'Not that he is without spirit! *' Lady Mary looked at Zenobia with a flash of dry disapproval that contained the trace of a smile. 'He has many fashionable friends and pursuits, and he certainly does not permit his wife to intrude into his ... his pleasures. A woman should keep her place; it is her greatest strength, and her true power. As you would have known, Zenobia, if you had kept it yourself, instead of careering off quite unnecessarily to heathen countries! There is no call for an Englishwoman to go traipsing around on her own, wearing unbecoming clothes and getting in everyone's way. Adventuring is for men, as are many other pursuits.'
'Otherwise one ends up marrying a cheesemaker instead of an heiress!' Zenobia snapped. 'I imagine James's wife will inherit a fortune now?'
' 'I have no idea. I do not inquire into my son's financial affairs.' Lady Mary's voice was tinged with ice, but there was a curl of satisfaction round her mouth just the same.
'Your daughter-in-law's affairs,' Zenobia corrected. 'Parliament passed an act, you know; a woman's property is her own now, not her husband's.'
Lady Mary sniffed, and her smile did not fade.' 'A woman who loved and trusted her husband would still give it into her husband's charge,'' she replied.' 'As long as he was alive. As you would know, if you had enjoyed a happy marriage yourself. It is not natural for women to concern themselves in such things. If we once start doing it, Zenobia, then men will cease to look after us as they should! For goodness' sake, woman, have you no intelligence?'
Zenobia laughed outright. She loathed Mary Carfax and everything to do with her, but for the first time since they had parted thirty-eight years go, she felt a glimmer of understanding toward her, and with it a kind of warmth.
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'I fail to see what is funny!' Lady Mary said tartly.
'I'm sure.' Zenobia nodded through her mirth. 'You always did.'
Lady Mary reached for the bell. 'You must have other calls to make-please do not let me take all of your time.'
There was nothing Zenobia could possibly do but take her leave. She rose. The visit had been a total disaster, not a thing could be salvaged, but she would go with dignity.
'Thank you for passing on the news about Beatrice Al-lenby. I knew you would be the person who would
