Free Paragon Walk by Anne Perry Page B

us!”
    “Perhaps that is no more than our good fortune?” Charlotte suggested, then added, lest she embarrass Emily too much, “If he were a madman, he might imagine all sorts of things that were entirely false, might he not, utterly without reason?”
    “I have no acquaintance with madmen,” Miss Lucinda said fiercely.
    Charlotte smiled. “Nor I with rapists, Miss Horbury. Everything I say is only a surmise.”
    Miss Laetitia flashed her a smile so quick it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.
    Miss Lucinda sniffed harder. “Naturally, Mrs. Pitt. I hope you did not imagine for a moment that anything I said was from any kind of personal knowledge! I assure you, I was no more than sympathizing with poor Mr. Nash—to have such a disgrace within his family.”
    “Disgrace!” Charlotte was too angry even to try to control her tongue. “I see it as a tragedy, Miss Horbury, a terror, if you like, but hardly a disgrace.”
    “Well!” Miss Lucinda bridled. “Well, really—”
    “Is that what Mr. Nash said?” Charlotte pressed, ignoring a sharp nudge from Emily’s boot. “Did he say it was a disgrace?”
    “Really, I do not recall his words, but he was most certainly aware of the—the obscenity of it!” She shuddered and snorted down her nose. “I am quite terrified at the mere thought myself. I believe, Mrs. Pitt, if you lived in the Walk, you would feel as we do. Why, our maid, poor child, fainted clean away this morning, when the next door bootboy spoke to her. That’s another three of our best cups gone!”
    “Perhaps you could reassure her that the man is probably miles away from her now?” Charlotte suggested. “After all, with the police investigating and everyone looking for him, this is the last place he would be likely to remain.”
    “Oh, one must not lie, Mrs. Pitt, even to servants,” Miss Lucinda said sharply.
    “I don’t see why not?” Miss Laetitia put in with mildness. “If it is for their good.”
    “I always said you had no sense of morals!” Miss Lucinda glared at her sister. “Who can say where the creature is now? I am sure Mrs. Pitt cannot! He is obviously possessed by uncontrollable passions, abnormal hungers too dreadful for a decent woman to contemplate.”
    Charlotte was tempted to point out that Miss Lucinda had done little else but contemplate them since she had arrived, and it was only sensibility for Emily that prevented her.
    Selena shivered.
    “Perhaps he is some depraved creature from the under-world, excited by women of quality, satins and laces, cleanliness?” she said to no one in particular.
    “Or perhaps he lives here in the Walk, and naturally chooses his own to prey upon—who else?” It was a gentle, light voice, but distinctly masculine.
    They all whirled round as one, to see Fulbert Nash only two yards from them on the grass, a dish of sherbet in his hand.
    “Good afternoon, Selena, Lady Ashworth, Miss Lucinda, Miss Laetitia.” He looked at Charlotte with raised eyebrows.
    “My sister, Mrs. Pitt,” Emily said tightly. “And that is an appalling thing to say, Mr. Nash!”
    “It is an appalling crime, ma’am. And life can be appalling, have you not observed?”
    “Not, mine, Mr. Nash!”
    “How charming of you,” he sat down opposite them.
    Emily blinked. “Charming?”
    “That is one of the most restful qualities of women,” he replied. “The ability to see only what is pleasant. It makes them so comfortable to be with. Don’t you think so, Mrs. Pitt?”
    “I should think it would make for extreme insecurity,” Charlotte replied with candor. “One would never know whether one was dealing with the truth or not. Personally I should be forever wondering what it was I did not know.”
    “And so, like Pandora, you would open the box and let disaster loose upon the world.” He looked over the sherbet at her. He had very fine hands. “How unwise of you. There are so many things it is safer not to know. We all have our secrets.”