love once she was a widow. If either you or I were to meet them, socially of course, so it will seem quite casual”— she leaned forward eagerly—“and make some remark, with a knowing look, then they would be sufficiently disconcerted that we should know immediately that we had the right person.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to protest that she could not possibly do that, but her voice died away as she recalled Pitt’s desperate situation, his dismissal, and even more than that the loss of the house, having to tell Mama, and having Grandma-ma’s malicious satisfaction, but above all, the hurt to Pitt himself.
“Yes,” she said, without the faintest idea how she would accomplish it. “Yes, that is an excellent idea. We had better begin immediately. I shall take Bart Mitchell, because I can call upon Mina. You must take Mr. Hurlwood.” She rose to her feet. “How you will find him I haven’t a notion, but that is your affair.” And giving Emily a quick hug, without waiting to hear if there were any excuse or evasion, she swept in through the French doors and made for the hallway and the street.
She arrived at Mina’s house within the hour, long before Pitt got there, and was greeted with pleasure and the sort of ease that usually exists only after considerable friendship. Ordinarily she would have felt guilt for using so generous an emotion in such a way, but today there was no room in her mind for anything but necessity.
“How delightful to see you Mrs. Pitt,” Mina said enthusiastically. “How is your new house? Are you quite comfortable there now?”
“Indeed, thank you,” Charlotte replied, seeing Bart Mitchell behind her with intense relief. “I like it extremely. Good morning, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Pitt,” he replied, not troubling to keep the surprise from his face. He took a step forward.
“Please do not leave on my account,” she said in far too much haste. “I should feel most distressed.” Then she could have kicked herself for overreaction. She sounded absurd. And yet if he left the whole journey would be abortive, and there was no time to lose. There were only a few days at most before Pitt would be off the case forever.
“Well—I …” He looked startled. It was not the reaction he could possibly have foreseen.
Then a wild idea occurred to Charlotte, desperate and ridiculous, but her own dignity was beside the point now. All she could think of was Thomas.
She had no difficulty in blushing. She certainly felt fool enough. She lowered her eyes modestly, as though to hide her emotions, and then looked up at him suddenly in the way she had seen countless women do. Emily did it to a devastating effect. She herself had only tried it a few times in her youth, and made a complete exhibition of herself.
Bart looked even more taken aback, but he did not leave, in fact he sat on the sofa as if fully intending to remain.
Good heavens. Could he possibly be attracted to her? Or was he merely flattered?
Mina was saying something and Charlotte had not heard a word of it. She must pay attention or she was going to compound the situation by even further idiocy.
“How kind of you,” she murmured, hoping it fitted the circumstance.
Mina rang the bell and as soon as the maid appeared, ordered cool lemonade. That must have been what she had said.
Charlotte searched her wits for some intelligent topic of conversation. She knew nothing of current gossip in society, she had neither the means nor the inclination; it was not done for women to discuss politics; she was not up-to-date with fashion. She did not wish to go boldly into the subject of the Headsman. She had not been to the theater in months, nor to a concert.
“How is your arm? I hope the burn is healing,” she said to fill the silence.
“Yes, indeed,” Mina replied, raising her eyebrows as if she had not expected it. “Much more rapidly than I had thought it could. I believe your swift action may have saved me endless discomfort.”
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. “I know cold water is merely an ease of the symptoms, which is very often nothing to do with treatment at all. But in the case of burns, the ease seems to last, and there is much less of a mark left. Do you agree, Mr. Mitchell?”
“I think I am obliged to, Mrs. Pitt,” he replied with a smile. “Although I have little experience of domestic scalding.”
“Of other burns, perhaps?” she pursued with far more desperation than her slightly shaking voice betrayed.
His smile broadened. “Oh yes. I have quite accidentally cured sunburn with cold water.”
“Sunburn? How interesting.” She gazed at him with rapture as if it were the most fascinating subject imaginable. He did have remarkable blue eyes.
He shifted his gaze discreetly and proceeded to tell her of his travels in Africa, of becoming sunburned and falling off his horse while crossing a wide river in spate, and in so doing, very quickly relieving the pain in his skin and the faintness he was beginning to feel as a result of the heat. It was an entertaining story and he told it with humor and animation. She did not have to affect to be interested.
The maid brought the lemonade, which was delicious, and Charlotte continued to ask him questions about his experiences, which he answered easily. Mina sat upright on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap, a small smile on her lips, completely at ease.
But time was slipping by. Charlotte had accomplished nothing decisive enough to prove her point. If Bart Mitchell were Dulcie’s lover then he was masking his feelings with consummate skill. But then the more she knew of him, the more did she believe that such a thing would be both natural and easy for him. He would not betray a woman he loved, either intentionally or by lack of thought or self-mastery.
She felt increasingly foolish with every passing moment. Please Heaven Emily was doing better. She must plunge in, whatever the cost. She must at least try!
“How long have you been returned from Africa, Mr. Mitchell?” she asked with wide eyes. Actually it was not proving as difficult to flirt with him as it might have. He was, on closer acquaintance, a most pleasing person, and most comely of appearance.
