The Cater Street Hangman - Anne Perry [28]
“I’m busy,” Emily replied. “I have sewing to do, since we are a maid short. There is linen to be mended.”
“And if Mrs. Dunphy is sick,” Sarah added, “then I shall stay at home and see if there is anything I can do for her. Perhaps I can talk with her, take her mind off it.”
Charlotte gave her a withering stare. She knew perfectly well her reasons were not to do with Mrs. Dunphy. Sarah thought Mrs. Harding was a disreputable old gossip, and she did not wish to know her socially. As far as the gossip went, she was perfectly correct. But had her stories been a little more up to date they might well have found her a readier audience.
“Charlotte doesn’t need company,” Edward said tartly. “It’s less than two miles away. Go straight there, Charlotte, and return as soon as it is civil for you to do so. I doubt there will be any need to explain. I expect the news is all over the neighbourhood. And don’t gossip! Old Mrs. Harding is an inveterate busybody. Give her the receipt, and wish her well, and then come home again.”
“I won’t have the girls walking in the street alone,” Caroline said firmly. “Either someone goes with her, or Mrs. Harding will have to wait. The streets are too dangerous.”
“Nonsense, Caroline! She’ll be perfectly safe,” Edward sat up straighter. “It’s broad daylight.”
“It was broad daylight when Mrs. Waterman’s maid was attacked!” Caroline rejoined. “I wonder you didn’t tell us about that, so we as well as the servants might have been warned.”
“My dear Caroline, where is your sense of proportion? This lunatic, whoever he is, attacks servant girls, girls of loose morals. No one could take Charlotte to be such a creature!”
“What about Chloe Abernathy? She wasn’t a servant!”
“Yes, I was surprised about her myself. I had always considered her to be proper enough, if somewhat light-headed. It shows how one can be deceived.”
“Because she was killed?” Caroline said with a lift of amazement in her voice.
“Precisely.”
That is a completely circular argument, Charlotte thought, almost forgetting herself so far as to say so. “You are saying she was killed because she was immoral, and she was immoral because she was killed!” she finished aloud.
“I am saying she was killed because she kept immoral company,” Edward looked at her with a frown, “and the fact that she was killed proves it. Are you frightened to go out alone?” This time there was concern in his voice. He was not unkind.
“Yes,” she said honestly. “I would prefer not to.”
Dominic stretched out his legs, and then stood up swiftly.
“If you like, I’ll come with you. I doubt I should be of any assistance whatsoever here, either with the linen or with Mrs. Dunphy, and certainly not in the kitchen.”
The journey with Dominic was marvellous, in spite of the heat which beat down from the August sun, and up in waves from the pavement. Mrs. Harding was delighted to see them, although for once her flow of gossip seemed to have been cut off at the source. Perhaps it was the very masculine presence of Dominic. She offered them refreshments, and they were glad to accept a lemonade before parting. She understood but regretted their need for haste; at least she said so, but Charlotte had the distinct feeling Dominic’s presence hampered her, although she obviously admired him—as indeed what woman would not?
On the way home Dominic himself had seemed a little put out at her reticence. He said he had heard she was the best gossip in the district, and was greatly disappointed in her. Charlotte tried to explain what she felt to be the reason and ended up by regaling him with the best stories she could remember, to his vast entertainment. He laughed with pure delight, and Charlotte was blissfully, painfully as happy as she had ever been.
They arrived home to find Sarah in a rage, Papa white-faced, Emily silent, and Mama absent in the kitchen.
The happiness vanished as if a door had been closed on it, though Dominic was still smiling, as if he had not felt the change.
“What’s the matter with everyone?” he asked, going over to open the French windows.