But if it were a matter of desperate embarrassment, even of humiliation, then the fewer people who were aware of it the easier for the family. And also since Charlotte was not of their own social circle, perhaps they would not suffer so acutely for her knowing the truth.
Emily accepted the argument with reluctance, but she was obliged to concede its validity. At least she made no protest about lending both her carriage and her footman. She would take the use of her mother's to return to her home.
Inigo called at six o'clock precisely, dressed in an elegant coat of darkest green with a fine top hat.
It was on the tip of Charlotte's tongue to ask him where on earth they might be going, but she bit back the words, remember shy;ing the need for discretion. Caroline had already delivered her shy;self of her opinion of Charlotte's behavior, and she forbore expressing it again in front of Inigo.
Inside the carriage he made sure that she was comfortable, then offered no further remark, but sat silent, a smile curving his mouth, while they drove through gaslit streets Charlotte had not seen before, seemingly toward the heart of the city.
She lost track of time. They turned endless corners till her sense of direction, which had never been good, vanished, and | when at last they pulled up she could not have made even a guess where they were.
Inigo climbed out and handed her down. The lamps were brilliant in the street, and some on the front of a large building were of different colors. j
'Electric,' he said cheerfully. 'There are quite a few of them i now.'
She stared around her. There was music coming from somewhere, and a dozen or more people on the pavement, mostly men, some of whom were in evening dress.
'Where are we?' she asked in bewilderment. 'Where is this?'
'It is a music hall, my dear,' he said with a sudden, flashing smile. 'One of the best. Ada Church is singing here tonight, and she'll pack 'em in.' I
'A music hall!' Charlotte was stunned. She had been expect- ' ing a cemetery, a clinic, or even a madhouse- but a music hall! It was preposterous-like a black farce.
'Come on.' He took her arm and pushed her toward the doorway. She thought of resisting; she was both frightened and intensely curious. She had heard of Ada Church-she was said to be very handsome, and had one of the best music hall acts.
Even Pitt had once commented that she had beautiful legs-of all things! He had smiled as he said it, and she had recognized that he was teasing, so she had refrained from asking him how he knew!
'Good evening, Mr. Charrington, sir.' The doorman raised his hand in a little salute, although his eyes registered surprise at Charlotte. 'Good to see you again, sir.'
'You've been here before!' Charlotte accused him. 'And often!'
'Oh yes.'
She stopped, pulling against his arm. 'And you have the impertinence to bring me with you! I know I am a policeman's wife, but I do not frequent places like this! I'll have you remem shy;ber that there are a great many things men may do and women may not! Now you have had your rather cheap joke. I accept that it was tasteless and cruel of me to ask what happened to your sister. You have your revenge, and my apologies. Now please take me home!'
He held on to her arm tightly, too tightly for her to break away.
'Don't be so pompous,' he said quietly. 'You aren't any good at it. You wanted to know what happened to Ottilie. I'm going to tell you, and prove it. Now stop making a scene and come in. You'll probably even enjoy it, if you let yourself. And if you don't want to be seen here, then don't stand in the entranceway where everybody can look at you making a specta shy;cle of yourself!'
His logic was irrefutable. She jerked her head in the air and sailed in on his arm, looking neither right nor left, and permitted him to seat her at one of the numerous tables in the center of the floor. She was dimly aware of tiers of boxes and balconies, like a theater, of a brilliantly lit stage, of gaudy colors, flounced dresses low off the shoulders, and the black and white of rich men's clothes mixed with the duller browns of those less comfortable, and even the checks of men come from the local streets. Waiters wove their way through the throng, glasses sparkled as they were raised and lowered, and all the time there was the murmur of voices and the lilt of music.
Inigo said nothing, but she was conscious of his bright face watching her, curiosity and laughter so close to the surface she could feel it as if he touched her.
A waiter came over and he ordered champagne, which in itself seemed to amuse him. When it came, he poured, lifted his glass, and toasted her.
'To detectives,' he said, his eyes silver in the light. 'Would to God all mysteries were so simple.'
'I'm beginning to think it is the detectives who are simple!' she replied acidly, but she accepted the champagne and drank it. It was pleasantly sharp, neither sour nor sweet, and she felt less angry after it. When he poured more, she accepted that too.
Presently a juggler came onto the stage, and she watched him without particular interest. She granted that what he was doing was extremely difficult, but it seemed hardly worth the effort. He was followed by a comic who told some very odd jokes, but the audience seemed to find them hilarious. She had a suspicion she had failed to understand the point.
The waiter brought more champagne, and she became aware that she was beginning to find the colors and the music rather pleasing.
A chorus of girls appeared and performed a song she was sure she had heard before, and then a man popped up and twisted himself into the oddest contortions.
At last there was silence and then a roll of drums. The an shy;nouncer held up his hands.
'Ladies and gentlemen, for your exclusive entertainment and enchantment, the culmination of your entire evening, the quintes shy;sence of beauty, of daring, of sheer dazzling delight-Miss Ada Church!'
There was a thunder of applause, even whistles and shouts, and the curtain went up. There was only one woman on the stage, slender with a tiny waist and long, long legs encased in black trousers. A tailcoat and white shirt hid nothing of her figure, and a top hat was perched at a rakish angle on a pile of flaming red hair. She was smiling, and the joy seemed to radiate out of her to fill the whole hall.
'Bravo, Ada!' someone shouted, and there was more clapping. As the orchestra started to play, her rich, throaty voice rang out in a gay, surging, bawdy song. It was less than vulgar, but there was an intimacy to it, full of suggested secrets.
The audience roared its approval and sang the chorus along with her. By the third song, Charlotte found to her horror that she was joining in as well, music swelling up inside her with a pleasant, tingling happiness. Rutland Place seemed a thousand miles away, and she wanted to forget its darkness and its miseries. All that was good was here in the lights and the warmth, singing along with Ada Church, and the vitality that conquered everything.
It would have shocked Caroline rigid, but now Charlotte was singing as loudly as the rest in the rollicking chorus: 'Champagne Charlie is my name!'
When at last the curtain came down for the final time, she stopped clapping and turned to find Inigo staring at her. She ought to have felt embarrassed, but somehow she was so exhila shy;rated it did not seem to matter.
He held up the last bottle of champagne, but it was empty. He signaled for the waiter to bring another. Inigo had barely opened it when Charlotte saw Ada Church herself walking toward them, giving a little wave of her arm, but gracefully avoiding the hands stretched out at her. She stopped at their table, and Inigo stood up immediately and offered her his chair.
She kissed him on the cheek, and he slipped an arm around her.
'Hello, darling,' she said casually, then turned a dazzling smile on Charlotte.
Inigo bowed very slightly. 'Mrs. Pitt, may I present my sister Ottilie? Tillie, this is Charlotte Pitt, the daughter of one of my neighbors, who has rather let her family down by marrying into the police! She fancied we had done away with you, so I brought her here to see that you are in excellent health.'
For once, Charlotte was staggered beyond words.
'Done away with me?' Ottilie said incredulously. 'How absolutely marvelous! You know, I do believe the thought oc shy;curred to Papa, only he didn't have the nerve!' She began to laugh; it rose bubbling in her throat and
