heard from the kitchen staff at Torrington Square. "I hope he has someone trustworthy to care for him," she said with enough solicitude to be courteous.
"Of course," he replied. He took a breath. "He has taken his own manservant."
There was nothing she could add that would not betray an unseemly curiosity, and curiosity was a social sin of which she had never been guilty. It was vulgar, and implied that one's own life was of insufficient interest to fill one's mind. No one would care to admit to that; it was the ultimate failure.
"I daresay he will feel the benefit," she observed. "I admit I do not care for January and February very much myself. I preferred it when I spent more time in the country. A walk in the woods is a pleasure at any time of the year. London streets in the snow offer a great deal less-mostly wet skirts up to the knees, unless one is fortunate. The south of France sounds more and more appealing all the time."
He fixed her with a flintlike stare. It was not entirely her imagination that there was also enmity in it, a knowledge that she would not have come wholly as a gesture of courtesy to a woman she did not know.
"I am most pleased to have made your acquaintance, Mrs. Arbuthnott," she said graciously. "I am sure you will enjoy your stay in London." She inclined her head to the sister and brother-in-law. "Good evening, Ferdinand," she finished, and without waiting for acknowledgment she turned and went back into the passage leading from box to box. Only feet away, Theloneus was still standing with the bishop, a slightly glazed look on his face.
"... misunderstanding of virtue," the bishop was saying intently. "It is one of the curses of modern living that..."
Theloneus was sorely in need of rescue.
"Bishop, would you come to join us for champagne?" Vespasia said with a dazzling smile. "Or were you going to say that we drink too much of it? I daresay you are right, and of course you are bound in honor to set us all an example. So refreshing to have seen you here. Do enjoy the evening." And she offered her hand to Theloneus, who took it immediately, trying hard to suppress his laughter.
VISITING SAVILLE RYERSON was altogether a more difficult matter to arrange, and in spite of the fact that she was genuinely concerned that Martin Garvie had met with some misfortune, regardless of Garrick's statement that he was in the south of France with Garrick's son, her fear for Ryerson was deeper. At best he was going to be disillusioned in a woman he loved, perhaps not wisely but certainly with all the power of his nature. To find yourself betrayed, not only in fact but in hope, to have your dreams stained beyond repair, was one of the hardest of all tests of the soul. And at worst he could find himself in the dock beside Ayesha Zakhari, and perhaps even on the gallows as well.
She did not bother to try the easy routes first. She could not afford the time taken by failure, nor perhaps the warning to others that she was so keenly interested she would call in old favors in order to see him.
Therefore she went straight to see the appropriate assistant commissioner of police. A long while ago, in their youth, there had been a time when he had courted her, and later, when they were both married, there had been a long weekend house party in one of the great stately homes of the duke of something-or-other. An afternoon in the yew walk sprung to mind particularly. She disliked calling on memories in such a fashion-it lacked grace-but it was extremely useful, and Ryerson's need was too profound for such delicacies to stand in her way.
He received her without keeping her waiting. Time had been kind to him, but not as it had been to her. He was standing in the center of the floor of his office when she was shown in. He looked thinner than in the past, and his hair was very gray.
"My dear..." he began, and then was uncertain quite how to address her. It had been many years since they were on familiar terms.
She responded quickly, to save him embarrassment. "Arthur, how generous of you to see me so quickly, especially when you must be quite certain, when I have come in such indecent haste, that I am seeking