by Rebecca King
“I can assure you, madam, that I do work for the War office, and am here on an official investigation for them,” Angus declared pompously.
“Doing what?” Alice demanded. She threw a suspicious look at Charity. “Do we have to fetch the Vicar?”
“No, you do not,” Charity snapped. She struggled not to sneak a look at Angus, but her determined attempts to appear as casual as possible had her clasping her hands before her in a pose that was decidedly chastened.
Charity knew she had done wrong. It was obvious to everyone.
Even Angus, because he sighed heavily and waited for the inevitable pounding. He didn’t have to wait long.
“So why do you have him for breakfast?” Agatha demanded.
“I haven’t had him for breakfast,” Charity snapped.
Her cheeks blushed furiously when she realised how that sounded. She sighed when Gertrude began to chortle, and Alice gasped in shocked disbelief.
“I haven’t had him at all,” Charity added pertly.
“But he is here, dear. Now unless he is interested in your – tapestry – he must have a good excuse for being in your house at eight o’clock in the morning,” Edwina murmured silkily. “It is far too early for a gentleman to come calling.”
“I would hate to think that you have ventured out this early to try to prove I am a liar,” Charity frowned. “Or a wanton.”
She ignored Alice’s horrified gasp.
“Why, we should never do such a thing,” Augusta gasped in dismay.
“Good,” Charity snapped.
“On the contrary, my dear, we have turned out so early this morning to find out what is really going on. Gertrude, here, felt certain we were being followed last night when we went home, you see? I know for a fact that once I was inside my home, the man who tailed us through the village waited until Gertrude closed her door and then retraced his steps. I can see the end of this lane from my house and watched him disappear around the back here. If it wasn’t him, it was his friend.” She pointed one long, accusing finger at Angus, who shook his head in disbelief.
“My colleagues and I were making sure you ladies were safe, that’s all,” Angus warned. “There is a kidnapper on the loose, you know?”
“Yes, indeed. So how are we to know that you are not him?” Edwina demanded.
“I am trustworthy, I promise,” Angus growled for want of having to tell them the truth.
Angus had never felt so outnumbered or beleaguered in his life. He would rather be in the middle of a brutal tavern brawl than in a posh sitting room with a gaggle of inquisitive females. The urge to make his excuses and leave was strong. It was professionalism that kept him where he was. Professionalism, and guilt at the thought of leaving Charity to face them all alone. After all, she hadn’t asked for him to touch her the way he had. He hadn’t intended to present the ladies with an idea of something that most certainly wasn’t there.
Yet, a small voice whispered.
No, it cannot be yet. She belongs here. I don’t. Not with this lot, Angus thought churlishly.
“You may as well tell us because we aren’t going anywhere until we know exactly who you are, why you are here, and what it has to do with Charity,” Monika informed him.
“And why you were kissing her when we arrived,” Gertrude added.
“He wasn’t kissing me,” Charity lied. “Far from it.”
“Well, he must have really poor eyesight then because it looked as if he was struggling to see you,” Monika scoffed in her habitual forthright manner. “His nose was practically touching yours and you appeared to have something down your throat he was trying to find.”
“Jesus,” Angus whispered. His sigh was loud but there was little he could do to preserve Charity’s reputation. The promises he knew they were all waiting for, including Charity, he just couldn’t give any of them, especially Charity. That galled him.
Charity shifted and struggled to contain the urge to disappear to the kitchen to give her heated cheeks time to cool down. As it was, she found herself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Angus when he came to stand beside her.
It was with a sense of unity that she faced her friends.
“We are just working on trying to find the kidnapper and need Charity’s help that’s all,” Angus informed them reluctantly. “We are working on an official government investigation. I would ask you to keep everything you are told to yourselves. If you do speak about it, you will face arrest for interfering. Men’s lives are at risk here. If you talk, they could die, it is as simple as that.”
He refused to soften his stance, not even when Alice and Edwina gasped in horror and began to flutter about fretfully.
Agatha’s eyes popped wide. She looked about the room. “Men, you say? Where are they? How many are there?”
“Who are you?”
“Why have you chosen Charity to help you?”
“Are you going to arrest him?”
“Is Charity in any danger?”
“Is she investigating with you?”
“Are you going to stay here?”
“Are you getting married?”
Charity sighed when everyone levelled their gazes on her. These people were her friends, people she would remain with for many years after Angus had moved on. Was it fair or right for Angus and his colleagues to just turn up and expect her to lie to her nearest and dearest? No, she didn’t think so. It was because of that she refused to even look at Angus for approval before she told them what they wanted to know.
“Angus is going to stay here, along with some of his colleagues. They are taking turns keeping watch on the suspect. It is imperative you do not speak of this with anybody else, though. The person they are after is the blackguard who has been snatching young women just like me off the streets.”
“Are you in danger?” Alice cried. “Oh dear, oh dear.”
“No,” Charity assured her. “I am in no danger. In fact, I am probably the safest person in the village right now. The men are keeping watch in the house morning, noon and throughout the night and are armed. Nobody will be able to get anywhere near the house without risking being shot or arrested.”
“Thank heavens for that.” Monika nodded emphatically. “Shoot first, ask questions later.”
“Monika,” Charity scolded. “What has gotten into you? It is not like you to be so cut-throat.”
“Well, I am just saying,” Monika shrugged. “You have to be – safe.”
Again, she turned a suspicious squint on Angus.
“Who do you believe it is?” Edwina demanded.
Angus stepped forward to try to stop Charity from answering. She was far too forthright with information for her own good. He was already too late, though, because she had seemingly already decided to tell her friends everything, despite his dire warnings.
“Will you just remember what I said?” he snapped to try to pre-empt her disclosure.
“They have to know,” Charity protested.
“Why were you kissing her?” Monika asked bluntly. “We all know that is what you were doing.”
“Mr Bentonville here is from the War Office. He has it in his stupid head that Mr Lawrence across the road is involved in the kidnapping of those young ladies,” Charity declared, carefully ignoring Monika’s question.
Charity heard Angus’s grumbled epithet but chose to ignore it. Deep inside, she was thoroughly miserable at the hint of betrayal she felt emanating from Angus. Her loyalty was torn between her friends and him. Did he not understand that? It was only the distinct memory of his sentiments last night that still echoed hollowly within her that nudged her toward doing whatever she had to do to reassure her worried friends. If Angus was mad at her for it, then so be it.
“Do you not think you should leave the explaining to me?” Angus asked her.
“They have to know,” Charity protested, defiantly tipping her chin up.
“How ridiculous,” Augusta blustered. “Mr Lawrence struggles to remember to put his
pants on in a morning. He couldn’t possibly do such a thing. You men would be fools to even bother attempting to investigate the man if that is really why you are here.”
“It might be Billy Stingle, though,” Edwina suggested, staring thoughtfully out of the window. “Now I have never liked that boy. He is a bully through and through. Ever since he was a young lad he has picked on young girls. His mother has been at her wits end with him, I can tell you. Now he would do something like that, egged alone by that dratted Barry Shallimore. He is a true scoundrel.” She looked at Angus, her eyes alight with militant determination. “I am sure the magistrate will be able to tell you all about him.”
“You see?” Charity murmured when she saw Angus remove a small pocket book and pencil from his breeches and begin to write. “You need us. The ladies here will be able to tell you about the people in the village who are most likely to engage in such heinous activity. People like Mr Lawrence aren’t.”
“Does Mr Lawrence have any relations in the area?” Angus murmured, scribbling furiously.
“Yes, a cousin of his lives in the next town. He is a little shady, but I haven’t heard any bad rumours going about him. He is just shifty, you know?” Monika replied matter-of-factly.
“What’s his name?” Angus murmured as he carefully noted the names that flowed out of the women. They provided a veritable treasure trove of valuable information for a group as starved of fact as the Star Elite were right now, and for that he could only applaud Charity for the wisdom of involving her friends.
Reluctantly, and without telling Charity, he conceded that she had been right to tell the ladies of the tapestry circle what he was doing.
“Phillip Lawrence,” Monika replied promptly. “The old man is called Brian. People don’t stop and talk to him, Phillip. He is just odd, you know? Like we have said, he is shifty and rarely gives direct answers. As a result, he comes here to visit his cousin, yet nobody knows anything about him.”
“I had heard that he has spent a lot of time going in and out of prison, but nobody seems to know what for,” Agatha Applebottom replied with such a matter-of-fact air that Angus didn’t doubt her sincerity.
“We can find that out,” Angus assured her.
“How about I take you over to Mr Lawrence? I can introduce you as Charity’s cousin, and explain that you are looking to move into the village?” Edwina suggested with a smile made brighter because of the brilliance of her suggestion.
“I don’t think that one is going to stick, do you? I mean, he doesn’t look very cousinly to me, not given the ardent way he was kissing her just now. We saw them. There is no reason to suspect the Lawrences didn’t either,” Monika snorted.
“I have to say that I do think Mr Horvat might be responsible,” Charity interrupted desperately, trying to keep the topic of discussion off the kiss she had shared with Angus.
“Until we can find out who is responsible you must keep this quiet, ladies. Do not discuss it amongst yourselves on the street, in public where anybody might overhear you, or question, however carefully, anybody about the history, details or whereabouts of any of the suspects. I don’t care what you think you see, or when you think you are witnessing anything unusual, do not approach any of the suspects,” Angus warned darkly. “We still don’t know what happens to the victims. They might all be dead for all we know. It is imperative that for all intents and purposes you know nothing about us, or our investigation. It is the only way to keep yourselves safe.”
Everyone murmured their agreement so readily that Angus breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He would have relaxed, if he hadn’t noticed Alice dabbing at the corner of her eye, and Edwina staring at him with a somewhat starry look in her eye.
“What in the Devil’s name is wrong?” Angus demanded. Instinctively, he edged closer to Charity, who looked up at him in astonishment when she heard him and had to smother a giggle when she saw Alice’s wonder.
“My, my, Charity, you have your very own hero,” Alice whispered in awe. She leaned forward and patted the back of Charity’s hand encouragingly.
“Isn’t it wonderful? And he is so protective of her as well,” Edwina whispered.
“I am just here to do a job.” Angus shifted uncomfortably.
“Oh, you do it so well,” Edwina gushed. “We had no idea, did we Alice?”
“No indeed, no idea at all,” Alice gushed. “Of course, you must keep our Charity safe, and you can rely on us to do whatever we can to help you.”
“Er, no, thank you,” Angus replied firmly. “But thank you for the suggested names. We will check them out, although we have good, reliable sources of information already. I don’t want you ladies going about the village asking questions.”
“Mrs Vernon might have noticed something unusual,” Gertrude declared confidently. “She never misses a thing.”
“She is right. You have men coming and going from here at all times of night,” Charity said quietly. “She will have seen something.”
“We haven’t been seen.” Angus insisted. He refused to believe it because he was someone who had been specifically trained to move about in the shadows, undetected by anybody, and was very good at it. After all, if he weren’t he would be dead by now.
“It might be that Horvat fellow,” Monika murmured thoughtfully. She slid a knowing look at Angus. “He is a shifty fellow as well. He has been here for several weeks now, but nobody can get a word out of him.”
Edwina nodded. “More importantly, nobody knows what happened to old Mrs Browning. Now she was a nice old dear but didn’t get about much.”
“Didn’t she die?” Angus asked bluntly.
“God, I hope not,” Monika retorted. “It looks as if she might have died because I never even knew her house was vacant. Nobody went to her funeral, though. At least, I don’t think so.”
All the ladies shook their heads.
“She can’t have died,” Augusta protested.
“Where did she go?” Agatha challenged.
Augusta shrugged.
“I cannot remember when I last saw her. It was only when Mr Horvat appeared that I realised she wasn’t around,” Edwina murmured looking acutely uncomfortable.
Charity began to worry. “Mrs Browning just disappeared one day. When Mr Moldwort went to find out if she was all right, Mr Horvat practically slammed the door in his face.”
“How long has he been here; Horvat, that is?” Angus asked quietly.
“About eight weeks,” Augusta replied confidently.
“I have to say that I have heard many rumblings around the village that the man refuses to speak. Nobody has been able to get anything out of him other than the fact that he is foreign, but then we all know that. It is difficult to miss given that swarthy complexion of his,” Alice added.
“How old is he?” Angus asked.
“About mid-fifties. He is short, wiry, yet looks fit and healthy. He would have no problem dragging young women about,” Monika replied with a firm nod.
“Oh dear, do we have to talk about this? How distressing,” Alice cried.
“It is what is going on around here,” Augusta declared matter-of-factly. “You cannot be oblivious to it. This is happening right in our village. We have to know what is going on, if only so we know to keep ourselves safe.”
“The best way to do that is to not discuss this with anybody,” Angus reiterated, a little fed up at having to keep repeating himself. He knew he was getting nowhere because the ladies were all looking at each other and not paying him the slightest bit of attention.
Monika suddenly pierced him with a knowing stare. “If you want to catch the culprit, you need to keep an eye on Mr Horvat. He is more likely to be responsible. Even more so than Phillip Lawrence in my opinion.”
“I would keep my eye on them both if I were you,” Augusta suggested.
“I think we have to keep an eye on both of the blackguards,” Alice announced.
“I think we have to come up with a reason why our dear Ang
us is coming and going from this house,” Augusta murmured, eyeing Angus as though he was a juicy rump steak.
Angus scowled. He didn’t like being called ‘our dear Angus’ by anyone.
“I say we all have a nice bit of cake and discuss what we are going to do,” Augusta suggested.
“But its only nine o’clock in the morning,” Angus protested, feeling sick at the thought.
“Oh, there is never a bad time to have cake. I have brought a nice fruit cake with me. How about we all have a slice while we discuss how we are going to go about catching this brigand?” Gertrude suggested with a contented smile.
“We aren’t going to go about anything,” Angus growled. “I will have you arrested if you try.”
“But we must come up with a plausible reason for you coming and going from the house and treating it as your own, without your name being romantically linked with our Charity’s. That way, when it is time for you to move on, her reputation will be intact. You can follow Mr Horvat wherever he goes, and nobody will suspect that you two have been - close,” Augusta said carefully.
Edwina nodded. “We know a lot of people in this village who will be curious. If people ask any of us, whom they know are close to Charity, and we all tell the same consistent story, who will doubt us?”
Monika nodded. She threw Angus a false commiserating look that was full of a somewhat malicious glee. “There is no better way to create a cover story and have it stick than get respectable members of the community like us to spread it about a bit.” When Angus opened his mouth to protest, she lifted a hand to stave him off. “Whenever we are asked, of course.”
“Oh, of course. It doesn’t do to gossip too much,” Edwina gushed.
Agatha, who had disappeared off into the kitchen, promptly returned with a stack of plates, and several forks, which landed on the side table beside the door with a clatter.
Seconds later, Angus found himself sitting in a high-backed chair beside the roaring fireplace. He eyed the thick wedge of fruit cake resting on the plate in his hand warily while he listened to the ladies concoct a credible story that would explain his presence in Charity’s home. They did so with an inventiveness that was alarming. He was so bemused by what he witnessed that he jerked guiltily when Agatha asked him if he didn’t like her cake. To appease her, Angus absently took a forkful and began to munch.
