‘Do you know the north well?’ Emily asked with enthusiasm.
For a moment Ailsa hesitated, as though she were unprepared for the question.
‘I have travelled north,’ she conceded. ‘It has great beauty, and one becomes acclimatised to the cold. Of course, summer is not cold at all, and brighter than here … quite often.’
‘So you will be familiar with places like the ones Dr Arbuthnott will be mentioning,’ Emily concluded. She turned to Rosalind. ‘Have you been there also?’
Rosalind smiled. ‘Oh, no. I’m afraid I have never been further north than Paris, which I find a marvellous city.’
‘Paris is south from here, my dear,’ Ailsa said gently.
Charlotte looked at her face. She was smiling but there was no warmth in it, in spite of her tone. If she had liked Rosalind, Charlotte knew that she would not have made the observation at all.
Rosalind coloured very slightly. ‘I know that. Perhaps I would have been clearer if I had said “in Europe”.’
Several appropriate remarks occurred to Charlotte, which would have put Ailsa in her place, but she refrained from making them.
‘I would love to travel,’ she said instead. ‘Perhaps one day I will. But I still find people more interesting than even the most marvellous cities. And I am grateful that there are men like Dr Arbuthnott who will bring us photographs and magic lantern images to show the beauty of the places I will never visit.’
‘A lifetime’s worth of them,’ Ailsa observed.
Charlotte pretended to misunderstand her. She was irritated at having her own life dismissed in such a way, but more offended for Rosalind, because to judge from her face, she felt the cut more keenly.
‘Really? He did not look more than forty-five in the photographs. But perhaps they are not recent?’
Ailsa stared at her, then quite suddenly a flash of amusement lit her face, almost appreciation. Charlotte realised she respected someone who would fight back. She smiled at Ailsa with all the considerable charm she could call on when she wished, and saw the recognition of it, and a quick acknowledgement.
They took their seats and an expectant hush settled over the room. Dr Arbuthnott appeared, to applause, and the lecture began.
Certainly what he had to say was interesting, and to Charlotte completely unfamiliar, but she could not afford to turn her attention to it fully. She and Emily had finally decided to take seats on the aisle immediately behind those of Ailsa and Rosalind. This gave her the opportunity to watch them both, while still appearing to be fully intent upon the lecturer.
Of course it would be ill-mannered to whisper to each other during the time when Dr Arbuthnott was actually speaking, but it seemed to Charlotte completely natural, and even expected, that at suitable moments one would speak to one’s companion to remark on something of particular beauty or surprise. She did so to Emily without giving it thought.
Then she faced forward again, and began to study the two women in front of her. Both sat straight up, as governesses would have taught them. Beauty was a gift; deportment was acquired, as was graceful speech both in timbre and pronunciation. Having something of interest to say was, of course, quite another matter.
Rosalind inclined very slightly towards Ailsa, and murmured to her, but so quietly Charlotte did not hear any of it.
Ailsa nodded, but did not reply. She did not lean her body towards Rosalind. A moment later she looked around the audience as discreetly as was possible, as if searching for someone she knew. Apparently she did not find them, because she did so again at the next opportunity, without being obvious about it. Charlotte was very curious as to who it might be.
She learned who, later in the evening after the lecture itself was finished and refreshments were offered. Many people congratulated Dr Arbuthnott and asked him further questions about the power and beauty of the far northern oceans.
Emily was in close conversation with Rosalind, and Charlotte had decided to follow behind Ailsa as closely as she could without being obvious. She made herself appear to be looking for an acquaintance, and felt as if she were behaving like a complete eccentric. She hoped she would never have to meet any of those people again socially. Possibly if they thought she was peculiar enough, they would take trouble to avoid her?
She was abundantly rewarded. She followed where she had seen Ailsa disappear, presumably seeking a little respite from the stuffiness and intense conversation of the room. She had walked quite casually under an elaborate archway leading to a side room, a minor gallery. It was beautifully proportioned but leading nowhere except to a large window.
Charlotte did not want a confrontation. It would be far too clumsy, and unmistakable that she had seen Ailsa go in and chosen to follow her. She dared not even go too close, because there were several very fine mirrors, and her passing in front of one would catch anybody’s eye.
Then she stopped abruptly. Inadvertently she had placed herself exactly where she could see Ailsa reflected in a mirror to her side, giving a clear profile angled in a further mirror beyond Charlotte’s line of sight. She could not take her eyes from it! Ailsa was standing quite still beside Edom Talbot. From their closeness to each other, and the look on Talbot’s face, there was no one else in the room. He moved a little behind her so Charlotte could see only his arms as they gently curved around Ailsa’s waist, and his shoulders above hers. She was tall, but he was several inches taller again. He was not a handsome man, but he was in a way distinguished, and quite unmistakable.
Ailsa did not move. She was smiling slightly, as though not only pleased but faintly amused.
Talbot’s hands moved up a little from her waist, gradually inch by inch until he caressed her breasts. He did it with some confidence, as if he did not expect to be denied.
Charlotte studied Ailsa’s face and saw her expression freeze. The gesture had not surprised her, but she found it distasteful. Charlotte could feel it as if it were her own body being touched. She saw the muscles in Ailsa’s neck and throat clench as if she almost stopped breathing.
Charlotte’s mind raced. Why did she endure it? She did not believe for an instant that Ailsa did not know how to deal completely effectively with such a thing. She had only to turn around sharply and confront him, or — even more simply than that — take a very carefully judged step back and put her heel on the instep of his foot, and then her weight. She was a handsomely built woman. The pain would be excruciating. She could pretend it was accidental, and they would both know it was entirely on purpose. And yet she did not.
Talbot bent his head and began to kiss her gently along the back of her neck and shoulder. She seemed to struggle to master her feelings. He could not see her face, only Charlotte could, and she read the revulsion in it as if it had been her own.
Then Ailsa turned and kissed him back quickly and pulled away. She said something, and Talbot smiled back. They began to move.
Charlotte dared stay no longer. There were too many mirrors. She could not afford to be caught staring. One meeting of the eyes and she would never be able to deny it.
Charlotte had no opportunity to tell Emily until they were in the carriage again on the way home, moving swiftly through the brightly lit traffic.
‘What?’ Emily said incredulously. ‘You must be mistaken! Are you sure it was Ailsa?’
‘Yes, of course I am. Apart from her gown, which was quite individual, I could see her face!’
‘Then maybe it wasn’t Talbot! Could Dudley Kynaston have arrived, and we didn’t see him?’ Emily persisted.
‘Dudley? She’s the widow of the brother he adored!’ Charlotte protested.
‘Don’t be naïve!’ Emily said, more with disbelief than criticism. ‘Bennett is dead! What greater compliment could the devoted Dudley give him than to step into his shoes?’
‘That’s disgusting!’ Charlotte retorted. ‘Would you be as quick into my shoes?’
Emily smiled. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I think Thomas is rather sweet! And he’d never be boring! Would he?’
Charlotte realised she was being teased just in time to avoid making a fool of herself, and perhaps making a remark whose sting would linger far more than she intended.
‘He snores,’ she said.
Emily looked crushed. ‘Does he?’
