Southampton Row by Anne Perry Read Free Book Online

to take chances and appear courageous, and yet never slip badly enough to fall.”
    Pitt had heard all this before, but it still concentrated his mind to have it put so succinctly.
    “He is a man of intense pride,” Cornwallis continued. “But in day-to-day life he has the skill to conceal it, or at least make it appear as something less offensive.”
    “Less vulnerable,” Pitt said instantly.
    Cornwallis did not miss the meaning. “You are looking for a weakness?”
    Pitt remembered with an effort that Cornwallis knew nothing of the Whitechapel affair, except Adinett’s trial in the beginning and Voisey’s knighthood at the end. He did not even know that Voisey was the head of the Inner Circle, and for his own safety it was better that he never learn it. Pitt owed him at least that much in loyalty for the past, and he would have wished it in friendship now.
    “I’m looking for knowledge, and that includes both strengths and weaknesses,” he replied. “He is standing for Parliament as a Tory, in a strong Liberal seat. The question of Home Rule has already arisen!”
    Cornwallis’s eyebrows rose. “And that means Narraway?”
    Pitt did not answer.
    Cornwallis accepted his silence.
    “What do you want to know about Voisey?” he asked. “What kind of weakness?”
    “Who does he care for?” Pitt said softly. “Who is he afraid of? What moves him to laughter, awe, pain, any emotion? What does he want, apart from power?”
    Cornwallis smiled, his eyes steady on Pitt’s, unblinking. “It sounds as if you are deploying for battle,” he said with a very slight lift of question.
    “I am searching to see if I have any weapons,” Pitt replied without looking away. “Have I?”
    “I doubt it,” Cornwallis answered. “If he cares for anything apart from power, I’ve not heard of it, not enough that the loss of it would hurt him.” He was watching Pitt’s face, trying to read in it what he needed. “He likes to live well, but not ostentatiously. He enjoys being admired, which he is, but he’s not willing to curry favor to get it. I daresay he doesn’t need to. He takes pleasure in his home, good food, good wine, the theater, music, company, but he’d sacrifice any of them if he had to, to reach the office he wants. At least that’s what I’ve heard. Do you want me to ask more?”
    “No! No . . . not yet.”
    Cornwallis nodded.
    “Anyone he fears?” Pitt asked without hope.
    “None that I know,” Cornwallis said dryly. “Has he cause? Is that what Narraway is afraid of . . . an attempt on his life?”
    Again, Pitt could not answer. The silence was worrying him, even though he knew Cornwallis understood.
    “Anyone he cares about?” Pitt asked doggedly. He could not afford to give up.
    Cornwallis thought for a moment or two. “Possibly,” he said at last. “Although how deeply I don’t know. But I think there are ways in which he needs her—as his hostess, if nothing else. But I think he does care for her, as much as a man of his nature can.”
    “Her? Who is she?” Pitt demanded, hope quickening in him at last.
    Cornwallis dismissed the matter with a tiny, rueful smile. “His sister is a widow of great charm and formidable social skills. She appears, at least on the surface, to possess a gentleness and moral sensitivity he has never shown, in spite of his recent knighthood, of which you know more than I.” It was not a question. He would never intrude where he knew he had no rights, and a refusal would hurt. He frowned very slightly; it was just a shadow between the brows. “But I have met her only twice, and I am no judge of women.” Now there was a slight self-consciousness in him. “Someone more skilled might tell you quite differently. Certainly she is one of his greatest political assets among those in the party with the power and the will to support him. With the voters he has little to rely on but his own oratory.” He sounded discouraged, as if he feared that would be