Rutland Place - Anne Perry [8]
“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 cannot imagine any servant who had opportunity to take all those articles. I mean, how would someone else’s servant 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 advantage 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