Rutland Place tp-5
Page 2
"Charlotte?" Caroline's voice recalled her to Rutland Place and the warm withdrawing room.
"Yes, Mama. Perhaps it would be better if you said nothing at all. After all, if it was stolen, the thief is hardly going to admit it, and anyone decent enough to return it to you would not have looked at what they would know is personal. And even if they did, they would not find it remarkable. After all, we all have private matters."
Caroline forced a smile, overlooking the fact that the thief would not even know it was hers without some natural investi shy;gation, which would be bound to include opening it to see the inscription.
"No, of course not." She stood up. "Now I'm sure it must be nearly time to eat. You look very well, my dear, but you mustn't neglect your health. Remember, you are eating not only for yourself!"
The meal was delicious and far more delicate than Charlotte would have had at home, where she tended to skimp on midday meals. She ate with enjoyment. Afterward they repaired to the garden for a short breath of air, and in the shelter of the walls it was very pleasant. A little before three o'clock they went back to the withdrawing room, and within half an hour received the first caller of the afternoon.
"Mrs. Spencer-Brown, ma'am," the parlormaid said formally. "Shall I tell her you are at home?"
"Yes, by all means," Caroline agreed quickly, then waited a moment until the girl left before she turned to Charlotte. "She lives opposite, at number eleven. Her husband is a terrible bore, but she is very lively. Pretty creature, in her.own way-"
The door opened again and the parlormaid ushered in the visitor. She was perhaps thirty-three or thirty-four, very slender with fine features, the longest, most graceful neck Charlotte had ever seen, and fair hair that was swept to the back of her head and piled in the latest fashion. She was dressed in ecru-colored lace.
"My dear Mina, how delightful to see you," Caroline said as easily as if no thought had troubled her all day. "How opportune you should call."
Mina turned immediately to Charlotte, her eyes bright.
"I don't believe you have met my daughter Mrs. Thomas Pitt." Caroline performed the awaited introductions. "Charlotte, my dear, this is my most excellent neighbor, Mrs. Spencer-Brown."
"How do you do, Mrs. Spencer-Brown." Charlotte inclined her head a little in something like half a curtsy, and Mina made the same gesture of recognition.
"I have been so interested to meet you," she said, looking Charlotte up and down, mentally taking note of everything she wore, from her slightly scuffed boots to the sleek styling of her hair, in order to assess the skill or otherwise of her maid, and thus the standard of her whole household. Charlotte was used to such judgments, and she met this one with unflickering coolness.
"How kind of you," she said, her eyes amused and frank. "I'm sure had I known of you a little more, I should have looked forward to our meeting just as much." She knew Caroline was regarding her anxiously, trying to get close enough to kick her under her skirts without being observed. Charlotte smiled even more candidly. "How fortunate Mama is to have such an agree shy;able neighbor. I hope you will stay and take tea with us?"
Mina had had every intention of staying, but was momentarily disconcerted to have the subject mentioned when she was hardly through the door.
"Why-why, thank you, that would be delightful, Mrs. Pitt." They all sat down, Mina opposite Charlotte where she could face her without appearing to stare. "I haven't seen you in Rutland Place before. Do you live far away?"
Charlotte was careful not to make Jemima an excuse. People in Mina's position were not obliged to care for their children themselves; there would be first a wet-nurse, then a child's nurse, then at five or six a nanny, and finally a governess or a tutor, and thus every possible need would be tended to.
"A little distance," she said composedly. "But one gets involved with one's own circle, you know?"
Caroline shut her eyes, and Charlotte heard her give the faintest of sighs.
Mina was temporarily at a loss. The reply had not elicited the information she had expected, nor yet led to another avenue of exploration.
"Yes," she said. "Naturally." She took a deep breath, — smoothed her skirts, and began again. "Of course we have had the pleasure of meeting your sister Lady Ashworth-a most charming person."
The implication was being made, very delicately, that if some shy;one of Emily's social distinction could find the time, then Char shy;lotte certainly ought to.
"I'm sure she must have enjoyed it." Charlotte knew quite well that Emily would have been bored to tears, but Emily had always been skilled at hiding her feelings; in fact, she seemed to have the entire family's share of tactfulness.
"I do hope so," Mina replied. "Does Mr. Pitt have interests in the city?"
"Yes," Charlotte said quite truthfully. "I imagine he is there at this moment."
Caroline slid a little down in her chair, as if she were pretend shy;ing she was absent.
Mina brightened. "Indeed! How sensible. An idle man can so quickly fall into unfortunate company, and end up wasting both his time and his substance, don't you think?"
"I have no doubt of it," Charlotte said, wondering what had prompted the remark.
"Although naturally the city has its pitfalls as well," Mina continued. "Indeed, some of our own neighbors here in the Place have the oddest of habits, with comings and goings in the city! But then, of course, young men are prone to do such things, and I suppose one must expect it of a certain sort. Family background always tells, you know-sooner or later!"
Charlotte had no idea what she was talking about.
Caroline sat up. "If you mean Inigo Charrington," she said with only the barest edge to her voice, although Charlotte no shy;ticed her ankles cross and her knees tighten as she deliberately kept her face smooth, "I believe he has friends in the city, and no doubt he cares to dine with them on occasion, or possibly go to the theater, or a concert."
Mina's eyebrows went up.
"Of course! One only hopes he has chosen wisely, and his friends are worthy of him. You didn't know poor Ottilie, did you?"
"No." Caroline shook her head.
Mina made a little face of sympathy. "The poor creature died the summer before you arrived, as I recall. She was so young, not more than twenty-two or twenty-three.",
Charlotte looked from one to the other of them, waiting for an explanation.
"Oh, you wouldn't know her," Mina said, seizing the chance. "She was Ambrosine Charrington's daughter-Inigo's sister. Really a most tragic affair altogether. They were away for a few weeks during the summer. Ottilie was in perfect health when they left-at least she seemed so. And then within a mere fortnight she was dead! Quite dreadful! We were all completely at a loss!"
"I'm so sorry." Charlotte meant it; the story of life cut short was suddenly sobering in the midst of all the silly chatter and games of social superiority. "How very painful-for her family, I mean."
Mina's slender fingers roamed over her skirt again, laying it even more smoothly over her knees.
"Actually, they have borne it with the greatest fortitude." Her fine eyebrows rose as if she were still surprised by it. "One cannot but admire them, most especially Ambrosine herself- that is, Mrs. Charrington-she has risen above it so magnificently. If one did not know of it for oneself, one would almost believe it had not happened at all. They never speak of her, you know!"
"No doubt the wound is still there," Charlotte answered. "One never forgets, no matter how brave one's face."
"Oh dear!" Mina crumpled. "I do hope I have not inadvertently said something distressing, my dear Mrs. Pitt? Nothing was further from my mind than to cause you some painful memory."
Charlotte smiled at her, pushing Sarah from her thoughts and hoping Caroline could do so too.
"I would never imagine that you might," she said quietly. "I expect everyone has suffered some loss or another. There cannot be a family in the land that has never had death rob them of someone."
Before Mina cou
ld.search for a courteous acceptance of this, the withdrawing-room door opened and a very elderly lady came in, her face creased with irritation, a fine lace shawl drawn round her shoulders, and her black boots polished like glass.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Spencer-Brown," she said curtly.
"Didn't know you were entertaining this afternoon, Caroline.
Cook said nothing at luncheon!" She looked at Charlotte, then took a step closer. "Good gracious! It's Charlotte!" She snorted
slightly. "Decided to come back into decent Society, have you?"
"Good afternoon, Grandmama." Charlotte stood up and offered her the most comfortable chair, which she herself had been occupying until that moment.
The old lady accepted it after rearranging the cushions and dusting the seat. She sat down, and Charlotte found herself a hard-backed chair.
"Better for you anyway." The old lady nodded. "Get a round back sitting in one of these at your age. Girls always sat up properly when I was young. Knew how to conduct ourselves then. None of this gadding about without chaperones, going to the theater, and the like! And electricity all over the place! It must be unhealthy. Goodness only knows what's in the air! Gas lamps are quite bad enough. If the good Lord had intended it to be light all night, He would have made the moon as bright as the sun."
Mina ignored her and turned to Charlotte with excitement. "Do you go to the theater alone, Mrs. Pitt? How thrilling! Do tell us, do you have adventures?"
Grandmama pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose loudly. Charlotte hovered on the edge of pretending that she did do such a thing, to annoy her grandmother, then decided the embar shy;rassment it would cause Caroline was too great to balance the pleasure.
"No, no, I never have," she said with a touch of regret. "Is it adventurous?"
"Good gracious!" Mina looked startled. "I have no idea! One hears stories, of course, but-" Suddenly she giggled. "I should ask Mrs. Denbigh! She is just the sort of person who would have the courage to do it, if she wished."
"I daresay," Grandmama glowered at her. "But I have often thought that for all that she is a widow and ought to know her place better, Amaryllis Denbigh is no better than she should be! Caroline! Are we going to have tea this afternoon or sit here till dusk chattering dry?"
Caroline reached out and rang the bell.
"Of course we are, Mama. We were merely waiting until ybu joined us." Over the years she had grown accustomed to calling the woman "Mama," although she was in fact Edward's mother.
"Indeed," Grandmama said skeptically. "I hope there is some cake. I can't bear all that bread cook sends up. The woman has a mania for bread. They used to know how to make a decent cake when I kept servants. Trained them properly-that's what it all comes down to. Don't let them get away with so much-then you'll get cake when you want it!"
"I do get cake when I want it, Mama!" Caroline's temper was wearing thin. "And keeping a good staff these days is a lot harder than it used to be. Times change!"
"Not for the better!" Grandmama glared at Charlotte. She refrained from saying anything about respectable women who married into the police, of all things! But only because there was an outsider present, who, please God, knew nothing about it. If she did, next thing it would be all over the neighborhood! And then heaven knew what people would say, let alone what they would think!
"Not for the better," she said again. "Women working in offices like clerks when they ought to be in good domestic service. Whoever heard of such a thing? Who looks after their morals, I should like to know? There aren't any butlers in
offices. Not that there are many women, thank heaven! Women's place is in a house-either their own or, if they haven't one, somebody else's!"
Charlotte thought of several answers and held her tongue on all of them. The conversation degenerated into pleasantries about fashion and the weather, with only occasional references to other residents of Rutland Place, and Grandmama's dour comments upon them. They were almost finished when Edward came in, rubbing his hands a little from the cold.
"Why, Charlotte, my dear!" His face lit up with pleasure and surprise. "I had no idea you were calling or I would have come home sooner.'' She stood up and he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "You look extremely well."
"I am, thank you, Papa." She stepped back and he noticed Mina for the first time, her pale lace almost blending into the brocade of the sofa and its cushions.
"Mrs. Spencer-Brown, how pleasant to see you." He bowed. "Good afternoon, Mr. Ellison," she answered brightly, her eyes moving from Edward back to Charlotte, interested that he had not been expecting her. "You seem cold," she observed. "Do you care to sit next to the fire?" She moved her skirt to allow him more room on the sofa beside her.
He could not decline without discourtesy, and anyway he considered the spot nearest the fire to be his right. He sat down gingerly.
"Thank you. It does appear that the weather has changed. In fact, I fear it might rain."
"We can hardly expect better at this time of the year," Mina replied.
Caroline met Charlotte's eyes over the low table in a glance of helplessness, then reached for the bell to send for a fresh pot of tea for Edward, and some more cakes.
Edward received them with obvious appetite, and they all engaged in only the barest conversation for several minutes.
"Did you find that brooch you lost, my dear?" he said presently, head toward Caroline but his attention still on the cake.
Caroline colored very slightly. "Not yet, but I daresay it will turn up."
"Didn't know you'd lost anything!" Grandmama exclaimed. "You didn't tell me!"
"No reason why I should, Mama," Caroline replied, avoiding her eyes. "I'm quite sure if you had found it you would have mentioned it to me without my asking."
"What was it?" Grandmama was not going to let go so easily.
"How unfortunate!" Mina joined in. "I hope it was not valuable?"
"I've no doubt it will turn up!" Caroline replied with a note of increasing sharpness in her voice. Charlotte, glancing down, saw her hands twined in the handkerchief again, white where the tightness of the linen bit into her flesh.
"I expect you have mislaid it," she said with a smile she hoped did not look as artificial as it was. "It may be pinned to some garment you had forgotten you had worn."
"I do hope so," Mina said, shaking her head. Her dark blue eyes were enormous in her fragile face. "It is most distressing to have to say so, but, my dear, there have been a number of things-taken-in the Place recently!" She stopped and looked from one to another of them.
"Taken?" Edward said incredulously. "What on earth do you mean?"
"Taken," Mina repeated. "I hate to use a worse word."
"You mean stolen?" Grandmama demanded. "I told you! If you don't train your servants properly and run a house as it ought to be run, then this is the sort of thing you can expect! Sow a wind, and reap a whirlwind! I've always said so."
"It wasn't you who said that, Grandmama," Charlotte said tartly. "It's from the Book of Hosea, in the Bible."
"Don't be impertinent!" Grandmama snapped.
Edward seemed quite unaware of Caroline's distress or of Charlotte's attempt to close the subject.
"Did you say there have been other thefts?" he asked Mina.
"I'm afraid so. It's perfectly dreadful! Poor Ambrosine lost a most excellent gold chain, from her very own dressing table."
"Servants!" Grandmama snorted. "Whole class of servants is going down. I've said so for years! Nothing's been the same since Prince Albert died in '61. He was a man with standards! No wonder the poor Queen is in perpetual mourning-so should I be if my son behaved like the Prince of Wales." She snorted in outrage. "The whole country's heard of his goings-on!"
"And my husband lost an ornamental snuffbox with a crystal lid from our mantelshelf," Mina continued, ignoring her completely. "And poor Eloise Lagarde lost a silver buttonhook from her reticule, unfortunate child." She looked at the old lady candidly. "I canno
t imagine any servant who had opportunity to take all those articles. I mean, how would someone else's ser shy;vant be in my house?"
Grandmama's eyebrows went up and her nostrils flared. "Then obviously we must have more than one dishonest servant in Rutland Place! The whole world is degenerating at a disastrous speed. Heaven only knows where it will all end."
"It will probably end with everyone finding what they have misplaced!" Charlotte said, standing up. "It has been most delightful meeting you, Mrs. Spencer-Brown. I do hope we shall have the opportunity to speak again, but since the afternoon is turning somewhat unpleasant, and it does indeed look like rain, I'm sure you will excuse me if I seek to return to my home before I am drenched."
Without waiting for a reply, she bent and gave her grandmother a peck on the cheek, her father a swift touch, and extended her arm to Caroline as if inviting her to accompany her at least as far as the door.
After rather startled murmurs of goodbye, Caroline took advan shy;tage of the opportunity. She was almost on Charlotte's heels as they came into the hall, and she shut the withdrawing room door behind them.
"Maddock!" Caroline called sharply. "Maddock!" He appeared. "Yes, ma'am. Shall I call the carriage for Miss Charlotte?"
"Yes, please. And, Maddock, have Polly close the curtains, please."
"It is still two hours at least until dark, ma'am," he said with slight surprise.
"Don't argue with me, Maddock!" Caroline took a breath and steadied herself. "The wind is rising and it will rain quite shortly. I prefer not to watch it. Please do as you are asked!"
"Yes, ma'am." He withdrew obediently, stiff-shouldered in correct and spotless black.
Charlotte turned to her. "Mama, why does this locket matter so much? And why do you want the curtains drawn at four o'clock in the afternoon?"
Caroline stared at her as if frozen.
Charlotte put out her hands and touched her mother gently. Caroline's body was stiff under the fine material of her dress.