no larger purpose? Or was it really about Jack? Certainly it had little if anything to do with Dudley Kynaston or the body in the gravel pit.
Emily was still walking away, though she had slowed down. Charlotte hurried to catch up with her. There was no point in being subtle now; in fact it might only make things worse.
‘Do you really know Rosalind Kynaston?’ she asked a little breathlessly. She wanted desperately to help, and yet the slightest clumsiness would close off the opportunity, perhaps for a long time. She knew even as she was doing it that it might be dangerous, and Pitt would not approve, but she knew also that what she had thought was temper on Emily’s part was really pain.
They had known each other all the life they could clearly remember. Sharing was woven through all childhood. It was nothing to do with toys, lessons, dresses, books; it was memory. As little children they had run hand in hand. As girls they had shared secrets and laughter, quick squabbles. As young women there had been adventures, hope, falling in love, and heartbreak. Now, probably more than half-way through life, there would also be disillusion, coming to terms with other kinds of pain, inequalities that would always be there.
Emily shook her head. ‘Not very well, but that could be mended. In fact, it will have to be, if Jack takes a position with Dudley Kynaston. He’s likely to be offered it. It must be a promotion.’ And yet there was no lift in her voice, no excitement.
Charlotte hesitated, then decided honesty was the only safe choice. ‘But you don’t like it? Or is it just this messy maid business that worries you?’
Emily kept her eyes forward. ‘I don’t know why you say that …’
‘Shall I explain it?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Or would you rather talk about something else?’
Emily pulled her mouth into a grimace. ‘I’m not as sure as he is that it would really be upward. I think it’s rather more sideways. Honestly …’ She gave a little sigh and looked away again. ‘Promotion carries some burdens as well. He could be away more … a lot more.’
‘Oh …’ Charlotte immediately wondered whether Emily was going to miss him, or if she were more worried about what he might do far from home, and perhaps if he would miss her as much. As far as Charlotte knew, Jack had not been unfaithful to Emily, even in thought, but before marriage he had certainly been widely experienced, and had not hidden the fact. The novel thought of being completely faithful to one woman was part of the new adventure of marrying. So also, of course, was the equally novel experience of being financially far more than comfortable, with at least two very fine homes of his own, instead living most of the year as a guest in someone else’s house, there because he was charming, entertaining and always agreeable, but never secure.
He was a Member of Parliament commanding considerable respect from his peers, and being offered advancement entirely on his own merit. Emily had begun as the privileged one; now Jack made his own way. Charlotte realised with surprise that that was a bit like herself and Pitt, except that all she had possessed at the beginning was an excellent upbringing and the entrée to certain circles in Society, no money at all. The change that Pitt’s promotions had brought delighted her, especially the respect he was now accorded by those who had previously condescended to him. The only disappointment was the inability to take part in his cases, no excitement, no detection. With a jolt of surprise she realised that she too had become a trifle bored. She was definitely affected with a feeling that she was repeating the same tasks over and over, and perhaps they were not really either as useful, or as interesting as she had imagined.
Emily had waited as long as she was going to. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded.
‘I know what you mean about promotion,’ Charlotte answered. ‘It brings more money, and more responsibility, but not necessarily more satisfaction. And certainly not more fun.’ Then afraid she had given away too much about herself, she hastened on. ‘What does Jack say?’
Emily gave a slight shrug. ‘Not a great deal. In fact, not enough. He says he wants the promotion, but it isn’t the exact truth.’ She glanced at Charlotte, then away again, and kept on walking. Their surroundings were like some other-worldly forest, hard winter sunlight reflecting back off the glass-domed ceiling while groups of strangers walked under extraordinarily shaped trees and trailing vines, pretending they had not seen each other so they did not break the spell of being in another world.
‘The trouble is,’ Emily went on, ‘I don’t know which part of it is the lie, or what it’s for. Is it self-protecting, so if he doesn’t get the promotion he can tell me he really doesn’t mind? Or does he want the position for some reason he doesn’t want me to know?’
Or possibly he just did not consult Emily any more, not as he used to, but that was not a thought that Charlotte wanted to speak aloud. On the other hand, maybe he wanted the job very much, and he was afraid Emily’s advice would be negative.
‘Do you know much about it?’ Charlotte asked.
‘The position? Not a lot. After the last disaster, none of which was Jack’s fault, I don’t know whether to encourage him or not, and he isn’t telling me enough for me to make an intelligent comment anyway. I … I don’t know whether he doesn’t trust me, or if he doesn’t care what I think …’ Now the misery was so heavy in her voice she seemed on the brink of tears.
Charlotte said the only thing she could.
‘Then we must find out. It is better to find out the worst and deal with it than to spoil something that wasn’t actually the worst at all, by fearing and being filled with an unjust suspicion.’ She looked at Emily’s face. ‘I know that’s very easy to say, and you think I’ve never experienced it.’
‘You haven’t!’ Emily said sharply. ‘Thomas would no more look at another woman than grow wings and fly in the air! If you dare patronise me, so help me, I’ll push you and your best dress into that pile of wet soil over there — and you’ll never get the smell out as long as you live!’
‘An excellent solution to all problems,’ Charlotte said disgustedly. ‘Push it into the manure. It’ll make us all feel so much better — for about five minutes …’
‘Ten!’ Emily snapped. Then in spite of herself she began to laugh, even though the tears running down her face were not really those of amusement.
Charlotte put her arms around her and hugged her briefly, then stepped back. ‘We had better get started,’ she said in a businesslike way. ‘We must get to know Dudley and Rosalind Kynaston, and the possibility of Jack being offered a position with Kynaston is the perfect excuse.’
Emily put her shoulders back and lifted her chin a little. ‘I shall begin immediately. I’m freezing standing here. I thought tropical jungles were supposed to be warm! Let’s go home and have some tea by the fire, and hot crumpets soaked with butter.’
‘An excellent idea,’ Charlotte agreed. ‘Then I shall have to have a whole wardrobe of new dresses, a size larger.’
‘You could give me that one,’ Emily regarded it with pleasure. ‘I could have it taken in to fit me!’
Charlotte pretended to slap her, and tripped over a piece of fallen branch, only just righting herself before she overbalanced. This time Emily really laughed, a swift, bubbling sound full of delight.
‘How kind!’ Charlotte said under her breath, then couldn’t help laughing as well.
The arrangement was fulfilled three days later when Charlotte and Pitt met Emily and Jack at the theatre. There had been no further progress either in finding Kitty Ryder alive, or in identifying the body on Shooters Hill. Other news had overtaken the issues raised in Parliament by Somerset Carlisle’s questions. However, it was only a matter of time before they would need to be addressed more urgently. Pitt had not deluded himself that the case was over, and Charlotte was quite aware of the tension in him above that of the usual concerns of his position.
It was the opening night of a new play, and therefore something of an occasion. Emily had been both fortunate and clever to obtain four tickets. Formal dress was required, which Pitt hated. On the other hand, he enjoyed seeing Charlotte wear a really beautiful gown of warm coral and russet tones with even a touch of hot scarlet in the brocade. It was brand new; the skirt was perfectly flat at the front and around the hips, not a line possible for everyone. It widened like a bell at the bottom, so cleverly was it cut. It was unadorned; the beauty of the fabric said everything.
Glancing at herself in the looking-glass for a final time, Charlotte had to admit that even without expensive jewellery she looked striking. She could not afford such things and did not wish Pitt to be extravagant in giving them to her. She wore no necklace at all. This was rather a daring decision, but it only drew attention to her still smooth jawline, her slender throat and the warmth of her natural colouring. Her thick, dark chestnut hair was
