Thomas Pitt Rutland Place by Anne Perry

Author:Anne Perry [Perry, Anne]
Format: epub
Publisher: Anne Perry
Published: 2010-05-29T07:01:21.812000+00:00

"What has happened?" she repeated urgently. "Who is dead? How? And what has it to do with Mama?"

"Sit down." Charlotte pointed to one of the kitchen chairs. "It's quite a long story, and it won't make a lot of sense unless I tell it from the beginning. Would you like some luncheon?"

"If you insist. But tell me who is dead, before I explode! And what has it to do with Mama? From the way you wrote, she is in danger herself.''

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"A woman called Mina Spencer-Brown is dead. At first it looked like suicide, but now Thomas says it is almost certainly murder. I have onion soup—would you like some?"

"No, I would not! Whatever possessed you to cook onion soup?"

"I felt like it. I've wanted onion soup for days now."

Emily regarded her with a look of pain.

"If you had to have^ a craving because of your condition, couldn't you have made it for something a little more civilized? Really, Charlotte! Onions! They are socially impossible! Where on earth can we go calling after onion soup?"

"I can't help it. At least they are not out of season, or ridiculously expensive. You can afford to have a craving for fresh apricots or pheasant under glass if you wish, but I cannot."

Emily's face tightened. "Who is Mina Spencer-Brown? And what has she to do with Mama? Charlotte, if you have got me here simply because you want to meddle in one of Thomas' cases"—she took a deep breath and pulled a face—"I would love to have an excuse to interfere! Murder is much more exciting than Society, even if it terrifies me sick at times and makes me weep because the solution is always so wretchedly sad." She clenched her fist on the table. "I do think you might have told me the truth, instead of a pack of silly stories about Mama. I put off a really rather good luncheon to come here. And you offer me boiled onion soup!"

Memories flickered through Charlotte's mind for a moment: the terrible corpse in the closed garden in Callander Square; and standing side by side with Emily, paralyzed with fright, when Paul Alaric found them at the end of the murders in Paragon Walk. Then she remembered the present again, and all the tingle and beating of the blood vanished.

"It is to do with Mama," she said soberly. She served the soup and bread and sat down. "It will need salting. I forgot. Do you recall Monsieur Alaric?"

"Don't be a fool!" Emily said with raised eyebrows. She reached for the salt and sprinkled a little. "How could I possibly forget him—even if he were not still my neighbor? He is one of the most charming men I have ever met. He can converse upon almost any subject as if he were interested. Why on earth does

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Society consider it fashionable to affect to be bored? It is really very tedious." She smiled. "You know, I never really knew if he was aware quite how fascinated

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