Free Cardington Crescent by Anne Perry

glared at her.
    Vespasia did not quibble over the description, but her cool, dove gray eyes met Emily’s for an instant with a flash of memory, images of excitement, of appalling poverty and murder, and Emily found herself blushing hotly as the much closer thought of yesterday evening in the conservatory returned. She had begun by telling Jack Radley of precisely that same affair in which she had met Somerset Carlisle. 1
    “Most unsuitable,” Eustace said irritably. “There are better ways of serving the unfortunate than making an exhibition of oneself trying to undermine government and alter the whole foundation of society. The man is quite irresponsible, and you should know better than to involve yourself with him, Mama-in-law.”
    “Sounds fascinating.” Jack Radley looked away from Emily for the first time and towards Vespasia. “Which particular foundation is he working on at the moment, Lady Cumming-Gould?”
    “Suffrage for women,” Vespasia replied immediately.
    “Ridiculous!” Eustace snorted. “Dangerous, time-wasting nonsense! Give women the vote and heaven only knows what kind of Parliament we’d have. Full of hotheads, and revolutionaries, I shouldn’t wonder—and incompetents. The man is a threat to all that makes England decent, all that has created the Empire. We raise great men precisely because our women preserve the sanctity of the home and the family.”
    “Stuff and nonsense,” Vespasia said smartly. “If women are as decent as you suppose them, they will vote for members who will uphold exactly what you value so much.”
    Eustace was thoroughly angry. He controlled himself with a visible effort. “My dear, good woman,” he said between his teeth, “it is not your decency that is in question, it is your sense.” He took a deep breath. “The fairer sex are designed by God to be wives and mothers; to comfort, to nurture and uplift. It is a high and noble calling. But they do not have the minds or the fortitude of temperament to govern, and to imagine they have is to fly against nature.”
    “Eustace, I told Olivia when she married you that you were a fool,” Vespasia replied. “And over the years you have given me less and less reason to revise my opinion.” She dabbed her lips delicately with her napkin and stood up. “If you think I am an unsuitable chaperone for Tassie, why don’t you ask Sybilla to accompany her. Presuming she gets out of her bed in time.” And without even glancing behind her she swept from the room, the parlormaid opening the doors and closing them behind her.
    Eustace’s face was scarlet. He had been insulted in his own domain, the one place in the world where he was the absolute authority and should have been inviolable.
    “Anastasia! Either your sister-in-law or your grandmother March will accompany you.” He swung round. “You, Emily, will not. You are scarcely better than your great-aunt. Such of your past behavior that I know of has been deplorable, but that is George’s problem. I will not have you misguiding Tassie.”
    “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Emily snapped back with a blinding smile. “I’m sure Sybilla is much better suited to be an example to Tassie as to how a decent and modest woman should behave than I could ever be.”
    Tassie choked into her handkerchief; Jack Radley tried frantically to find something to occupy himself with looking at, and failed. William, white to the lips, rose awkwardly, dropping his napkin and rattling his cup in its saucer.
    “I’m going to work,” he said brusquely, “while the light is so good.” Without waiting for comment he left.
    Emily was sorry: by allowing her temper to reveal her own pain she had also hurt William. He must be feeling somewhat the same as she was; confused, rejected, terribly alone, and above all, humiliated. But to seek him out and apologize now would only make it worse. There was nothing to do but pretend not to have noticed.
    She forced down enough of her breakfast to