Bedford Square - Anne Perry [55]
It was not only Albert Cole’s life which was confusing, it was sitting here having reported to Gracie as if she were his superior, at the same time being waited upon and spoiled and made welcome.
“I’ve got to go,” he said reluctantly, pushing his chair back. “Tell Mr. Pitt I’m following up on Cole. If he used to quarrel over the spoils of his thieving, that may be what happened to him. I’ve got to find out who he worked with.”
“I’ll tell him,” she promised. “Mebbe that is wot ’appened Makes more sense’n anythin’ else.”
“Thank you for supper.”
“S’only bubble an’ squeak.”
“It was very good.”
“Yer welcome.”
“Good night, Gracie.”
“Good night, Mr. Tellman.”
That sounded so formal. Should he tell her his name was Samuel? No. Don’t be absurd! She did not care what his name was. She had been in love with that Irish servant in Ashworth Hall. Anyway, they disagreed about everything that mattered—society, politics, justice, a man’s rights and obligations in the world. She was perfectly happy being a servant, and he deplored the entire concept as beneath the dignity of any human being.
He marched over to the door.
“Your bootlace is undone,” she commented helpfully
He was obliged to bend down and retie it, or risk tripping over his own feet as he went down the hall.
“Thank you,” he mumbled furiously.
“S’all right,” she answered. “I’ll see yer ter the front door. Only manners. It’s what Mrs. Pitt would do.”
He stood upright and stared at her.
She smiled at him brightly.
He turned and went down the hall to the door, her light, quick steps after him.
5
CHARLOTTE KNEW that Gracie had had something to report to Pitt from Tellman’s visit the previous evening, but it was one of those mornings when nothing seemed to be straightforward, and she was not in the kitchen at the time, at least only dashing in and out. The day before had been mild and sunny, but now the wind had a sharp edge and it was threatening rain. The clothes she had put out for Jemima to go to school in were now not warm enough. Jemima was very serious and did not complain about her pinafore as usual. That meant something else was worrying her, which was more urgent.
It took patient and careful questioning to elicit exactly what the difficulty was, and the answer, most solemnly given, reminded Charlotte how intensely important social questions were even at the age of nine. The precise way of dealing with a matter of accepting favors from the acknowledged leader of the twenty or so little girls in the classroom was a matter of great consequence. Debts were incurred and must be lived up to. Refusals must be explained without offense or one would be placed outside the magic circle of those who were favored.
She treated the problem with appropriate gravity. She had not gone to school herself. Having two sisters, she was taught by a governess in the classroom at home. But the principles were the same as in adult society, and sometimes the pattern of hierarchy lasted as long. Certainly the wounds of exclusion were as deep.
All of which meant that Daniel, two years younger, felt that something of importance was going on and he was not part of it. He knocked and banged around, dropping things and making loud comments, ostensibly to himself but really to take Charlotte’s attention.
So when she had finished with Jemima she decided she would walk to school with Daniel, instead of sending Gracie. The result was that by the time she had returned, dealt with the laundry, decided exactly how much longer the socks would last, which shirts needed their collars and cuffs turned (a job she hated), it was late morning when she sat down at the kitchen table for a cup of tea and Gracie told her what Tellman had said about Albert Cole’s strange, contradictory character.
“You did very well,” she said sincerely.
“I give ’im dinner, jus’ cold mutton an