Midnight at Marble Arch - By Anne Perry Page 0,2

was very ugly,” Charlotte said to Vespasia as soon as she was certain they were not overheard. “What an insensitive young man.”

“He must feel foolish,” Vespasia replied with a touch of sympathy.

“What on earth was that all about?” a dark-haired woman near them asked confusedly.

The elderly man with her shook his head. “Young ladies tend to be rather excitable, my dear. I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s just some misunderstanding, no doubt.”

“Who is she, anyway?” the woman asked him, glancing at Charlotte also, in case she could shed light on it.

“Angeles Castelbranco. Pretty young thing,” the elderly man remarked, not really to anyone. “Going to be a beautiful woman.”

“That’s hardly relevant, James!” his wife snapped. “She doesn’t know how to behave! Imagine her doing that at a dinner party!”

“Quite bad enough here, thank you,” another woman joined in. The brilliance of her diamonds and the sheen on her lush green silks could not disguise the bitterness of her expression.

Charlotte was stung to the girl’s defense. “I’m sure you are right,” she said, meeting the woman’s eyes boldly. “You must know far more about it than we do. All we saw was what appeared to be a rather self-assured young man quite clearly embarrassing a foreign ambassador’s daughter. I have no idea what preceded it, or how it might more kindly have been handled.”

Charlotte felt Vespasia’s hand fall very lightly on her arm again, but she ignored it. She kept the fixed, inquiring smile on her face and did not lower her gaze.

The woman in green colored angrily. “You give me too much credit, Mrs …. I’m afraid I do not know your name …” She left the denial hanging in the air, not so much a question as a dismissal. “But of course I am well acquainted with Sir Pelham Forsbrook, and therefore his son, Neville, who has been kind enough to show a very flattering interest in my youngest daughter.”

Pitt now rejoined them with a glance at Vespasia, but Charlotte did not introduce either him or herself to the woman in green. “Let us hope it is more graciously expressed than his unflattering interest in Miss Castelbranco,” she continued in a tone so sweet as to be sickly. “But of course you will make sure of that. You are not in a foreign country and uncertain how to deal with ambiguous remarks from young men directed toward your daughter.”

“I do not know any young men who make ambiguous remarks!” the woman snapped back, her eyebrows arched high.

“How pleasant for you,” Charlotte murmured.

The elderly man coughed, and raised his handkerchief to conceal his mouth, his eyes dancing.

Pitt turned his head away as if he had heard some sudden noise to attract his attention, and accidentally pulled Charlotte with him, although in truth she was perfectly ready to leave. That had been her parting shot. From here on it could only get worse. She gave a dazzling smile to Vespasia, and saw an answering sparkle in her eyes.

“What on earth are you doing?” Pitt demanded softly as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Telling her she’s a fool,” Charlotte replied. She had thought her meaning was obvious.

“I know that!” he retorted. “And so does she. You have just made an enemy.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “That may be unfortunate, but being her friend would have been even more so. She’s a social climber of the worst sort.”

“How do you know? Who is she?” he asked.

“I know because I’ve just seen how she acts. And I have no idea who she is, nor do I care.” She knew she might regret saying that, but just at the moment she was too angry to curb her temper. “I am going to speak to Senhora Castelbranco and make sure her daughter is all right.”

“Charlotte …”

She broke free, turned for a moment and gave him the same dazzling smile she had offered Vespasia, then moved into the crowd toward where she had last seen the Portuguese ambassador’s wife.

It took her ten minutes more to find her. Senhora Castelbranco was standing near one of the doorways, her daughter with her. The girl was the same height as her mother, and even prettier than she had appeared at a distance. Her eyes were dazzling, and her skin softly honey-colored with a faint flush across her cheeks. She watched Charlotte approach them with an alarm that she could not hide, even though she was clearly trying to.

Charlotte smiled at her briefly, then turned to her mother. “I’m so sorry