Ashworth Hall by Anne Perry

situation it was easy to see his gravity and the fact that he never for an instant forgot the reason they were met.
    Opposite her was Padraig Doyle, also an older man, perhaps in his middle fifties, with a genial expression and the kind of features which could not honestly be described as handsome, being too uneven, his nose too long and slightly crooked, but there was laughter and imagination in him, and Charlotte felt even before he spoke that he might be most entertaining company.
    Although Emily was the hostess, once she had seen that everyone was seated and served she made no demur about Ainsley Greville assuming a natural leadership of the occasion. His wife, Eudora, was a remarkably handsome woman, looking to be several years younger than he, with very fine, rich, auburn coloring; wide, brown eyes; high cheekbones, and a lovely mouth. She was modest of manner, and it only added to her charm.
    The other two women at the table were less easy for Charlotte to see, but as soon as the opportunity offered itself, she studied them discreetly. Kezia Moynihan bore a superficial resemblance to her brother. Her coloring was also fair, with very clear, almost aqua, eyes and thick hair which looked enviably easy to dress. But unlike Fergal, there was a quickness in her expression, as if humor came to her naturally, although perhaps temper also. Charlotte found it an easier face to like.
    Iona McGinley was a dramatic opposite. Her slender hands moved nervously on the white tablecloth. Her hair was almost black, and her dark blue eyes were wide, vulnerable, full of dreams and inward thoughts. She spoke very little, and when she did her voice was soft with a southern lilt almost like music itself.
    The only other person present was Lorcan McGinley, fair haired with a long, narrow face, wide mouth and very blue eyes which were startling, almost sky blue, disconcertingly direct.
    The conversation began with a few remarks which seemed harmless to the degree they were almost banal, especially among people who had all been present since the previous afternoon, therefore had shared at least two meals before.
    “Very mild,” Kezia said with a smile. “I notice there are still a great many roses in bloom.”
    “We sometimes get them right up until Christmas,” Emily replied.
    “Does the rain not rot them?” Iona asked. “We find at home it tends to.”
    “We are not so wet further east,” Carson O’Day put in.
    There was a sudden silence, as if the remark had been critical.
    Emily looked from one to the other of them.
    “Yes it does, occasionally,” she said to no one in particular. “I think it is a matter of luck. There seem to be a lot of berries on the hawthorns this year.”
    “Some say it means a cold winter,” Lorcan observed without looking up from his plate.
    “That’s an old wives’ tale,” Kezia replied.
    “Old wives are sometimes right,” her brother pointed out without a smile. He looked at Iona, and then away again quickly, but not before their eyes had met. He continued with his soup.
    Emily tried again with a different subject. This time she addressed Eudora Greville.
    “I hear Lady Crombie is planning to visit Greece this winter. Have you ever been?”
    “About ten years ago, but in the spring,” Eudora replied, taking up the opportunity to assist. “It was very beautiful indeed.” And she proceeded to describe it. No one was really listening, and perhaps she did not care whether they were or not. It was a safe subject, and the tension eased.
    Charlotte would have liked to help as well, but all she could think of was politics, divorce or potatoes. Everything seemed to lead back to these, one way or another.
    She was happy to look agreeable and affect a great interest in travel, asking questions every time it seemed the discussion might flag. It looked as though it would be a very long weekend indeed. Five or six days of this, with at least three meals every day, not counting afternoon tea, would seem