Half Moon Street by Anne Perry Read Free Book Online

protection. That, after all, is his purpose, isn’t it?”
    “Of course it is, my dear,” her husband assured her. “It seems he does not appreciate the harm his laxity is doing.”
    Caroline glanced at Joshua. She knew his views on censorship, and she was afraid he would say something which would offend the Marchands, but she did not know how to prevent it without in turn hurting him. “It is a difficult decision,” she said tentatively.
    “It may require courage,” Mrs. Marchand replied without hesitation. “But if he accepts the office then we have the right to expect that much of him.”
    Caroline could understand exactly what she meant. She knew instinctively her concerns, and yet she was equally sure Joshua would not. She was surprised how moderate his answer was when he spoke.
    “Protection is a double-edged sword, Mrs. Marchand.” He did not move from his relaxed position against the corner of the balcony, but Caroline could see the more angular lines of his body as his muscles tensed.
    Mrs. Marchand looked at him guardedly. “Double-edged?” she enquired.
    “What is it you would like to be protected from?” Joshua kept his voice level and gentle.
    Mr. Marchand moved slightly, only a changing of weight.
    “From the corruption of decency,” Mrs. Marchand replied, anger and certainty ringing in her tone. Unconsciously she put her hand towards her husband. “From the steady destruction of our way of life by the praising of immorality and selfishness. The teaching of young and impressionable people that self-indulgence is acceptable, even good. The exhibiting in public of emotions and practices which should remain private. It cheapens and demeans that which should be sacred. . . .”
    Caroline knew what she meant, and she more than half agreed with her. The Marchands had a young son, about sixteen years old. Caroline could remember when her daughters were that age, and how hard she had worked to guide and protect them. It had been less difficult then.
    She looked at Joshua, knowing he would disagree. But then he had never had children, and that made a world of difference. He had no one to protect in that passionate way that demanded all commitment.
    “Is self-denial better than self-indulgence?” Joshua questioned.
    Mrs. Marchand’s dark eyebrows rose. “Of course it is. How can you need to ask?”
    “But is not one person’s self-denial only the reverse side, the permission, if you like, for another’s self-indulgence?” he asked. He leaned forward a little. “Take the play, for example. When the wife denied herself, was she not making it possible for the husband to delude and indulge himself ?”
    “I . . .” Mrs. Marchand began, then stopped. She was convinced she was right, but not sure how to explain it.
    Caroline knew what she meant. The husband’s suffering was public, his wife’s had been private, one of the many things one did not speak of.
    “She is disloyal,” Mr. Marchand said for his wife. His voice was not raised in the slightest, but there was a ring of unshakable conviction in it. “Disloyalty can never be right. We should not portray it as such and seek sympathy for it. To do so confuses people who may be uncertain. Women may be led to feel that the wife’s behavior is excusable.”
    The smile stayed fixed on Joshua’s face. “And on the other hand, men may be led to question if perhaps their wives have as much need, even right, to happiness as they have,” he countered. “They may even realize that life would be better for both of them if they were to understand that women cannot be married and then safely considered to be purchased, for use when desired, like a carpet sweeper or a clothes mangle.”
    Mr. Marchand looked confused. “A what?”
    “A clothes mangle,” Joshua replied with a sudden shift to lightness. “A machine for wringing the excess water out of laundry.”
    “I have no idea what you mean!” Marchand looked at Caroline.
    But it was Pitt who