5
E
The dinner had been lavish and served in the grandest manner. Now the guests were all sitting or standing around the reception rooms in small groups talking, laughing and passing on personal and political gossip, although of course the personal was probably the most political of all. The by-election was drawing near and emotions were running high.
Emily was standing, not because she wished to but because her stays, which had contrived her exquisite waist, were far too binding for her to sit down for long with any comfort at all. Dinner itself had been more than enough.
“How delightful to see you, my dear Mrs. Radley, and looking so very—well.” Lady Malmsbury smiled brightly and regarded Emily with no pleasure at all. Lady Malmsbury was in her mid-forties, dark, rather large, and an ardent supporter of the Tory party, and thus of Jack’s rival, Nigel Uttley. Her daughter Selina was of Emily’s generation, and they had been friends in the past.
“I am in excellent health, thank you,” Emily replied with an equally dazzling smile. “I hope I find you the same? You most certainly seem so.”
“Indeed I am,” Lady Malmsbury agreed, discreetly looking Emily up and down, and disliking what she saw. “And how is your dear Mama these days? I have not seen her for such a long time. Is she well? Of course widowhood is so hard on a woman, at whatever age it occurs.”
“She is very well, thank you,” Emily replied a trifle more guardedly. It was not a subject she wished to pursue.
“You know, I had the oddest experience the other evening,” Lady Malmsbury continued, moving a step closer so her skirts rustled against Emily’s. “I was leaving a recital, a most excellent violin recital. Are you fond of the violin?”
“Yes indeed,” Emily said hastily, wondering what Lady Malmsbury was about to say in such eager confidence. The gleam in her eyes boded no good.
“I too. And this was delightful. Such charm and grace. A most elegant instrument,” Lady Malmsbury continued, still smiling. “And as I was walking down the Strand for a breath of air before taking my carriage home, I saw a group of people leaving the Gaiety Theatre, and one of them reminded me so much of your Mama.” She opened her eyes a little wider. “In fact I would have sworn it were she, were it not for her dress and the company in which she was.” She looked at Emily directly.
Emily had no choice but pointedly to evade the subject, or else to ask the inevitable question.
“Indeed? How odd. A trick of the light, I suppose. Streetlights can give the strangest impressions sometimes.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said that streetlights can give the strangest impressions on occasions,” Emily repeated with an artificial smile. She refused to ask who the company had been.
Lady Malmsbury was not to be deflected.
“They could not have created an illusion like this. She was with a group of actors, my dear! And she was so obviously at ease with them, it was not an accident of chance that they left together. Anyway, the Gaiety. Your Mama would never have been in there, would she?” She laughed at the absurdity of it, a hard, tinkling sound, like breaking glass. “And with such people!”
“I don’t think I would know a group of actors if I saw one,” Emily replied with a chill. “You have the advantage of me.”
Lady Malmsbury’s expression tightened and she raised her flat eyebrows very high. “I know you have been out of society in your confinement, my dear, but surely you would recognize Joshua Fielding? He is quite the darling at the moment. Such an interesting face, remarkable features. Not in the least what you could call regular, but quite full of expression.”
“Oh, if it was Joshua Fielding then I assume he was visiting the Gaiety, not playing there,” Emily observed with elaborate casualness. “Isn’t he a more serious actor?”
“Yes, of course he is,” Lady Malmsbury agreed. “But still hardly the company a lady would keep—not socially, I mean.” Again she laughed, still staring at Emily.
“I really don’t know,” Emily said, staring back. “I have never met him.” That was a lie, but the occasion had not been in public, so Lady Malmsbury would not know of it.
“He is an actor,” Lady Malmsbury repeated. “He makes his living on the stage.”
“So does Mrs. Langtry,” Emily remarked. “And she seems to be quite good enough for the Prince of Wales, socially, I mean.”
Lady Malmsbury’s face hardened. “Not the same thing, my dear.”
“No,” Emily agreed. “I am not sure that one could really say Mrs. Langtry earned her chief remuneration on the stage—acting possibly, but in a different position, and a somewhat less public venue—at least most of the time.”
Lady Malmsbury blushed to the roots of her hair. “Well really! I am afraid I must say I consider that remark in the worst possible taste, Emily. Since you have remarried, my dear, you have changed a great deal, and not for the better. I am not surprised your poor Mama does not show herself in society as much as she used to. Even in a silk turban and a dress with no discernible waist.”
